Showing posts with label Cuir de Russie 1872. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cuir de Russie 1872. Show all posts

Friday, February 1, 2013

Cuir de Russie 1872

Cuir de Russie by Guerlain, launched in 1872, captures the romance of an era when the world was fascinated by the exotic allure of Imperial Russia. The name Cuir de Russie translates from French to “Russian Leather” (pronounced kweer duh roo-see), a phrase that instantly evokes images of elegance, adventure, and aristocratic grandeur. The term refers to the distinctive, aromatic leather that had been prized since the 17th century, celebrated for its smoky, tarry fragrance — the result of a Russian tanning process using birch tar oil to soften hides and mask the natural odor of the leather. The result was a scent unlike any other: smoky yet sweet, resinous yet supple, at once evoking a cavalry officer’s gloves, a saddle freshly oiled, and the lingering warmth of woodsmoke rising from a distant hearth.

To European noses of the 19th century, “Cuir de Russie” symbolized luxury and refinement tinged with exotic mystery. The phrase conjured visions of fur-lined sleighs gliding over snowy plains, of ornate samovars steaming in candlelit salons, and of perfumed gloves worn by noblewomen at court. In perfumery, the leather note embodied strength, sophistication, and sensuality, appealing equally to men and women — a rarity for the period. Guerlain’s choice of the name reflected not only a fascination with Russia’s opulence but also a broader 19th-century taste for travel-inspired perfumes, which translated faraway places into scent.

When Aimé Guerlain created Cuir de Russie, the world was in the midst of the Belle Époque’s early stirrings — a period of industrial progress, artistic innovation, and social transformation. Paris was at the center of fashion and luxury, with perfumery beginning to establish itself as both art and science. Women were embracing individuality in their adornment, and fragrance was a powerful form of self-expression. A perfume called Cuir de Russie would have appealed to the sophisticated woman who sought both elegance and daring, someone who wished to wear not just a pretty floral but something earthy, tactile, and intriguingly human. The name alone suggested both refinement and sensual adventure — the scent of well-worn gloves, travel trunks, and the faint smoke of a distant campfire.

In scent, Cuir de Russie would be interpreted as a complex blend of contrasts — the brightness of citrus top notes fading into a heart of smoky birch tar, spiced woods, and soft florals, anchored by a resinous, musky base. The hesperidic top — likely bergamot or orange — added an aristocratic freshness, while the leather accord, formed from birch tar, styrax, and labdanum, conveyed the scent of hand-tooled leather warmed by the body. Spices such as clove, cinnamon, or coriander may have lent warmth and depth, creating an aura of controlled fire beneath the polished exterior. The base would have been rounded with amber, coumarin, and musk, lending animalic softness to the harsher leather tones, transforming ruggedness into allure.

 

For its time, Cuir de Russie was both familiar and revolutionary. The Russian leather accord had long been known in perfumery, but Guerlain’s treatment of it was more refined — less raw hide, more glove-smooth sophistication. The addition of aromatic top notes and softening resins elevated what had once been a masculine accord into something unisex and elegant. This duality made the fragrance timeless. It was strong yet polished, assertive yet tender — a scent that embodied both strength and sensual refinement, perfectly in step with Guerlain’s vision of blending nature, chemistry, and art.

In the landscape of 19th-century perfumery, Cuir de Russie stood apart for its balance of bold character and elegance. Where others leaned toward simple florals or heavy orientals, Guerlain’s creation was nuanced and tactile, capturing the essence of leather — the symbol of craftsmanship, travel, and aristocratic luxury — and transforming it into something ethereal. It was not merely the scent of leather, but the poetry of leather: the memory of journeys, the warmth of touch, and the lingering smoke of history itself.




Fragrance Composition:



So what does it smell like? Cuir de Russie is classified as a spicy leather chypre fragrance for men and women. 
  • Top notes: leather, floral notes, bergamot, lemon, petitgrain, neroli, orange blossom, cassie, geranium, aromatic notes, methyl benzoate
  • Middle notes: jasmine, gardenia, rose, geraniol, lilac, ylang ylang, leather, spicy notes, patchouli, rosewood and vetiver
  • Base notes: terpineol, ambergris, ambreine, vanilla, vanillin, opoponax, sandalwood, civet, oakmoss, leather, musk, musk ketone, musk ambrette, birch tar, tonka bean, coumarin, musk xylene, castoreum, and orris

Recently, I was able to obtain a sample from my good friend Alexandra Star, who has lots of rare antique Guerlain treasures in her etsy shop, Parfums de Paris. If you are interested in experiencing the smokey deliciousness of Guerlain's Cuir de Russie, stroll on over to her shop and take a look around.  



Scent Profile:



To smell Guerlain’s Cuir de Russie is to be transported into a world of polished saddles, candlelit salons, and windswept steppes — a fragrance that embodies the meeting of civilization and wilderness, refinement and raw sensuality. Classified as a spicy leather chypre, it opens with an assertive brilliance, evolves through opulent florals and spices, and settles into a base of profound animalic warmth. Every note seems to tell a story of travel, craftsmanship, and seduction — the olfactory equivalent of fine leather burnished by years of wear and memory.

At first breath, the perfume awakens with the brightness of citrus and herbs — bergamot, lemon, petitgrain, and neroli — their oils distilled from sun-soaked groves in Calabria and Tunisia. Bergamot lends its familiar green sparkle, a natural balance of linalool and limonene that invigorates the senses. Lemon adds a sharper, crystalline zest, while petitgrain, taken from the leaves and twigs of the bitter orange tree, contributes a dry, slightly woody counterpoint. The neroli and orange blossom bring a luxurious floral sweetness, distilled from the same flower but extracted differently: neroli by steam distillation, orange blossom by solvent extraction, creating two faces of one bloom — one dewy and ethereal, the other honeyed and warm. The inclusion of cassie, a mimosa-like flower native to Egypt, adds a green, powdery, slightly leathery accent that foreshadows the heart of the fragrance. Methyl benzoate, a naturally occurring component in ylang-ylang and tuberose, enhances the top accord, lending a subtle fruity-floral smoothness that ties together the brightness and depth.

As the citrus brilliance fades, the floral heart unfolds, lush yet tempered with spice and smoke. Here, jasmine, gardenia, and rose blend with ylang ylang and lilac, forming an opulent bouquet that feels both romantic and exotic. The jasmine — likely sourced from Grasse or Egypt — reveals its narcotic indole, a natural compound that gives the flower its animalic undertone. The rose, rich in citronellol and geraniol, introduces a velvety warmth, while geraniol itself, a key aroma molecule, amplifies the natural facets of both flowers, bridging them with seamless grace. The ylang ylang, distilled from blossoms grown in the Comoros, adds a creamy, banana-like sweetness, balancing the sharper spice of clove and coriander, while patchouli and vetiver lend earthy grounding. The heart’s hidden pulse — the faint trace of leather — begins to emerge here, created from smoky birch tar and resins, blended with soft florals to mimic the supple texture of Russian tanned hides.

Then comes the base — dark, sensual, and endlessly layered. It is here that Cuir de Russie reveals its true soul: leather, musk, and ambergris, wrapped in a balsamic cloud of vanilla, opoponax, and tonka bean. Birch tar, distilled from northern birch wood, imparts its inimitable smoky bitterness, conjuring images of polished boots and worn saddles. Ambreine (from ambergris) and opoponax add golden warmth and animalic sweetness, their resins and fixatives deepening the scent’s longevity. Civet and castoreum, both traditional animal essences, lend a feral, human-like warmth — the note of skin itself. The musks, both natural and synthetic (musk ketone, musk ambrette, musk xylene), round and soften the composition, replacing what was once natural musk with cleaner yet still sensual tones. Orris root, from the rhizome of the iris, contributes its powdery, suede-like texture — a final whisper of refinement amid the animalic chorus.

The use of synthetics such as coumarin, vanillin, and the musks was revolutionary for its time. Coumarin, with its scent of newly mown hay and almond, gives a dry sweetness that echoes the tonka bean, while vanillin amplifies the natural warmth of real vanilla and benzoin. Together, they polish the rougher, more untamed notes into a gleaming harmony — a perfect illustration of how 19th- and early 20th-century perfumery bridged the natural and the modern.

In the end, Cuir de Russie smells like power tamed by elegance — an aromatic portrait of leather softened by flowers, smoke smoothed by sweetness. It is both an homage to Russian tradition and an emblem of French refinement — a scent that lingers like the memory of a luxurious coat brushing past in winter air, warm from the body it once adorned.





Bottles:


Presented in the Carre flacon (parfum), the quadrilobe flacon (parfum), the Goutte flacon (eau de toilette), the Amphore flacon (parfum), the Lanterne flacon (parfum), and Stilboide Fluid (hair dressing).


Photo by ellenaa


Photo by anapamama.ru

Photo by Drouot





Photo by ellenaa







Fate of the Fragrance:



According to perfumer Frédéric Sacone, Jacques Guerlain’s 1935 version of Cuir de Russie was not an entirely new composition, but rather a sophisticated reimagining built upon the foundations of two of his earlier masterpieces — Chypre de Paris and Mitsouko. Sacone’s research into Guerlain’s handwritten formula for Cuir de Russie revealed a fascinating creative process: instead of starting from scratch, Jacques Guerlain blended and refined elements of these existing perfumes to craft a new olfactory expression.

This practice was not unusual for Guerlain; he often worked like a composer, revisiting and layering motifs from his earlier works. Chypre de Paris provided the structural backbone — the earthy mosses, labdanum, and citrus that defined the chypre genre — while Mitsouko contributed its voluptuous warmth and emotional depth, infused with peachy lactones and the resinous sensuality of amber and woods. By merging these two, Guerlain transformed the classic chypre accord into something darker, smokier, and more tactile, capturing the essence of tanned leather softened by musks and balsams.

The idea that Cuir de Russie could be “composed” from Chypre de Paris and Mitsouko illustrates Jacques Guerlain’s artistic continuity and mastery of nuance. He treated each fragrance in his portfolio not as an isolated creation but as part of a greater olfactory dialogue. In the 1935 Cuir de Russie, one can imagine the elegant mossy freshness of Chypre de Paris meeting the velvety richness of Mitsouko, their union enveloped in a smoky leather accord that evokes polished riding boots, glove leather, and the faint trace of birch tar.

The result was a fragrance both deeply rooted in tradition and strikingly modern. By weaving together his own past creations, Guerlain crafted a scent that honored the classic chypre lineage while giving it a sensual, animalic twist. In doing so, he reaffirmed his reputation as a perfumer of memory and transformation — one who could take the familiar and render it extraordinary once more.


Still being sold in 1953. Discontinued, date unknown.

Guerlain's Talc de Toilette

 Guerlain's Talc de Toilette was housed inside of a tin enameled in blue, off white and black.