Lolium Agriphyllum 1848

Lolium Agriphyllum by Guerlain, launched in 1848 as part of the Jardin d’Hiver Collection, carries a name that feels both botanical and mysterious — a Latin echo of cultivated fields and wild meadows. The title combines Lolium, the Latin term for ryegrass, with Agriophyllum, a genus of hardy flowering plants belonging to the amaranth family. The name suggests something at once pastoral and intellectual: a cultivated nature, tamed and refined for elegant society. Pronounced "LOH-lee-um Ah-GREE-fill-um", it rolls from the tongue like a line of classical verse, evoking both the scholarly precision of Latin taxonomy and the romantic imagery of nature studied, classified, and distilled into scent.

In translation, Lolium Agriphyllum means “ryegrass of the field leaf,” though its connotations extend beyond literal botany. The name conjures images of sunlit meadows after rain, sheaves of drying grass, and the faint sweetness of hay mingling with distant wildflowers. The use of “Lolium” might also have been an artistic nod to Lolium temulentum—known as “darnel,” or “false wheat”—a plant historically associated with intoxication and illusion. In this sense, the name hints at a fragrance that is deceptively soft, yet subtly bewitching, like a whisper of nature laced with elegance and danger.

When this perfume appeared in 1848, Europe stood at a cultural crossroads. It was the year of revolutions—social, artistic, and intellectual. In France, the Second Republic was born, and with it came renewed interest in nature, symbolism, and individual expression. Fashion leaned toward romanticism: soft silhouettes, floral motifs, and natural beauty idealized through art and design. The upper classes filled their conservatories with exotic plants and their dressing tables with perfumes that mirrored the botanical world. Guerlain’s Jardin d’Hiver Collection perfectly embodied this trend—a series of refined floral and herbal bouquets named in Latin, evoking both science and poetry, civilization and wilderness.

To a woman of the mid-19th century, Lolium Agriphyllum would have suggested something refreshingly different from the overtly floral perfumes of the day. While rose, jasmine, and violet dominated feminine perfumery, this fragrance promised something earthier and more introspective — a study in greens, grasses, and sunlit fields. The name alone would have appealed to the era’s fascination with botany and the “language of flowers,” when even the most genteel women took an interest in the natural sciences as a mark of refinement. Wearing Lolium Agriphyllum might have felt like an embrace of rustic simplicity reinterpreted through the lens of Parisian sophistication — nature, but made elegant.

In scent, Lolium Agriphyllum may have opened with the freshness of cut grass, dew, and wild herbs, supported by subtle floral and woody undertones. Imagine the delicate sharpness of crushed stems, mingled with clover honey and the faint spice of meadow blossoms. Early perfumers likely achieved this effect through tinctures of hay, clover, and resins, balanced by aromatic herbs such as thyme or lavender. The base would have been warm and slightly balsamic — a dry, ambery smoothness recalling sun-warmed straw or sweetened moss. In a modern interpretation, one might imagine accords of vetiver, coumarin (from tonka bean), and labdanum creating that effect — but in 1848, Guerlain would have achieved it with natural essences, perhaps tinctured grasses and balsams that softened over time into a gentle, nostalgic warmth.

Among its contemporaries, Lolium Agriphyllum would have stood apart for its pastoral restraint. At a time when most perfumes sought to imitate gardens in bloom, this one seems to have captured the quieter poetry of the meadow — the scent of open air, dry grass, and faint sweetness carried on the breeze. It was an intellectual’s floral, a perfume for women who valued subtlety, complexity, and the quiet sophistication of nature distilled into art. In essence, Lolium Agriphyllum was Guerlain’s way of translating the soul of the countryside into the refined language of perfumery — a whisper of the wild, made civilized.

Jardin d’Hiver Collection:

Guerlain’s Jardin d’Hiver Collection, launched in 1848, represents a remarkable celebration of botanical singularity and refined artistry. Each fragrance within the collection is devoted to a single floral or plant note, captured with painstaking care to highlight its unique character and essence. The collection’s Latin-styled names—Tilia microphylla, Lathyrus odorans, Mimosa fragrans, Cyperus ruber, and the most recent addition (1853), Mimosa Esterhazya—lend an air of classical sophistication, evoking the scholarly prestige and aristocratic refinement associated with the study of plants and natural sciences. These names, both precise and exotic, signal the high level of craft and attention devoted to each fragrance, appealing to a clientele who valued knowledge, taste, and exclusivity.

At the 1851 Universal Exposition, these perfumes competed not merely as products of luxury, but as demonstrations of technical mastery and artistic innovation. Each extrait is a distillation of a single botanical note, conveying the essence of the plant in a way that is at once vivid, nuanced, and enduring. Tilia microphylla, for instance, would have unfolded with the delicate, honeyed softness of its linden blossoms, while Mimosa fragrans exudes a sunlit, powdery warmth, evocative of early spring mornings. Cyperus ruber, with its earthy, subtly green facets, contrasts with the intensely floral sweetness of Lathyrus odorans, creating a spectrum of olfactory experiences within a unified concept.

The collection was designed for the highest echelons of society, intended for women who were not merely consumers of fragrance but arbiters of taste and refinement. These perfumes were not relegated to the dressing table as casual adornments; they were worn as statements of identity and prestige, perfuming the air with subtlety and elegance. In essence, the Jardin d’Hiver Collection embodies the aristocratic ethos of mid-19th century Paris—a union of botanical scholarship, artistic sophistication, and the cultivated elegance expected of the queens of fashion and fortune. Each fragrance is an intimate portrait of a singular flower, captured with the utmost care, and presented as a jewel of olfactory refinement.

Fragrance Composition:

So what does it smell like?  Lolium Agriphyllum, as imagined from its botanical inspirations, would not smell like the intense or “green-leafy” amaranth flowers themselves in a dominant way; rather, it would suggest a delicate, nuanced green and herbal character. The perfume evokes meadows, freshly cut grasses, ryegrass, and wild herbs, with subtle floral undertones drawn from companion blossoms in the field. The Amaranthaceae element (Agriophyllum) would lend a soft, slightly nutty, earthy aroma — a faint, almost honeyed warmth that blends seamlessly with the bright green notes.

The overall impression would be green, crisp, and slightly sweet, with hints of soft florals — perhaps clover, meadow flowers, and dry hay. There would be earthy, slightly balsamic undertones, reminiscent of sun-warmed straw or aromatic resins, giving depth to the fresh top notes. Think of walking through a dewy summer meadow, where the grasses release a clean, green scent, mingled with fleeting floral hints and a gentle warmth from the earth beneath.

So yes, amaranths contribute to the earthy, slightly honeyed nuance, but the fragrance as a whole is more of a green, grassy bouquet with subtle floral and herbal complexity — evocative of cultivated fields rather than a singular floral explosion.

Bottle:

Presented in the carre flacon.

Petit courrier des dames: Journal des modes, 1848:

"By creating the Château des Fleurs, inventing the Jardin d’Hiver, and making flowers fashionable in all the salons of Paris, the trend of perfumery simultaneously returned—after having been somewhat neglected due to the overuse of amber, musk, and vetiver. Yet the perfumes that reappear today bear no resemblance to those bourgeois emanations of old-fashioned coquetry. At Guerlain, 11 Rue de la Paix, however, belongs the right to this thoroughly modern renewal, offering compositions more delicate, more suave, more gentle on the nerves, and more voluptuous to the sense of smell than any other.

Ladies of good society are recognized by these perfumes, just as the high lineage of noble families is recognized by their coats of arms; and when a lock of hair flutters near you, when a magnificent handkerchief falls beside you, or when a fresh, coquettish glove happens to brush near your lips, you can judge by the fragrance emanating from that hair, that handkerchief, or those gloves whether the woman to whom they belong has received at Guerlain the mark of good taste, fashion, and refinement.

New odors composed by Guerlain:

• Extrait de Lolium agriphyllum 
• Extrait de Phlomis asplenia, 
• Extrait d'Azalea melaleuca
• Extrait de Cyparisse Elaidon
• Extrait d'Hyemalis anthelia
• Extrait de Cytise sylvaria 
• Extrait d'Anthemia nobilis 
• Extrait de Cyperus ruber  
• Extrait de Tilia micropluilla
• Extrait d'Hymenaea nitida 
• Extrait de Mimosa fragrans
• Extrait de Caryophilus album 
• Extrait d'Amyris Polyolens 
• Extrait de Polyanthe suaveolens  
• Extrait de Lathyrus odorans  
• Extrait d'Ocymum dulce 

By bringing to light these entirely new perfumes, Guerlain points out that they can only be found at home, and recommends to be on guard against the imitations that one will try to make."

Anthaemia Nobilis 1848

Anthaemia Nobilis by Guerlain, launched in 1848 as part of the Jardin d’Hiver Collection, exemplifies the mid-19th-century fascination with botanical purity and classical elegance. The name itself—Anthaemia Nobilis—draws from Latin, as was customary in the era for perfumes that sought to convey refinement and erudition. “Anthaemia” refers to the flowering plant, while “Nobilis” translates to “noble,” evoking dignity and elevated taste. Pronounced as "An-THAY-mee-ah No-BEE-lis", the title conjures images of sunlit Roman gardens, soft white and golden blooms, and a genteel serenity that permeated aristocratic salons. It evokes a sense of calm sophistication, echoing the soothing and delicate qualities of Roman chamomile itself.

The perfume’s star ingredient, Anthaemia nobilis or Roman chamomile, was prized for its gentle, subtly sweet floral aroma, often associated with comfort and quiet luxury. The essential oil, typically steam-distilled from the flowers, carries notes of apple-like freshness, soft herbaceous warmth, and a hint of honeyed sweetness, which combine to create a calming, almost balsamic character. In a period when perfumery was heavily influenced by opulent, animalic notes like musk, amber, and vetiver, the choice to foreground Roman chamomile signaled Guerlain’s dedication to nuanced and refined compositions, offering an alternative that was both delicate and sophisticated.

Women in 1848 would have related to Anthaemia Nobilis as a perfume of grace and modern taste. Its gentle aroma would have complemented the light silks and laces of the period, while its classical name and exotic botanical origin suggested cultural knowledge and elegance. Within the context of other fragrances on the market, Anthaemia Nobilis was both in line with trends favoring floral purity and subtly innovative in its use of a botanical often overlooked in perfumery. Its soft, soothing profile marked it as a distinctive choice for a refined woman, one seeking to assert sophistication without resorting to overpowering scents. Guerlain’s creation captured the essence of understated aristocratic luxury, demonstrating the maison’s mastery of botanical individuality and the art of subtle elegance.

Jardin d’Hiver Collection:

Guerlain’s Jardin d’Hiver Collection, launched in 1848, represents a remarkable celebration of botanical singularity and refined artistry. Each fragrance within the collection is devoted to a single floral or plant note, captured with painstaking care to highlight its unique character and essence. The collection’s Latin-styled names—Tilia microphylla, Lathyrus odorans, Mimosa fragrans, Cyperus ruber, and the most recent addition (1853), Mimosa Esterhazya—lend an air of classical sophistication, evoking the scholarly prestige and aristocratic refinement associated with the study of plants and natural sciences. These names, both precise and exotic, signal the high level of craft and attention devoted to each fragrance, appealing to a clientele who valued knowledge, taste, and exclusivity.

At the 1851 Universal Exposition, these perfumes competed not merely as products of luxury, but as demonstrations of technical mastery and artistic innovation. Each extrait is a distillation of a single botanical note, conveying the essence of the plant in a way that is at once vivid, nuanced, and enduring. Tilia microphylla, for instance, would have unfolded with the delicate, honeyed softness of its linden blossoms, while Mimosa fragrans exudes a sunlit, powdery warmth, evocative of early spring mornings. Cyperus ruber, with its earthy, subtly green facets, contrasts with the intensely floral sweetness of Lathyrus odorans, creating a spectrum of olfactory experiences within a unified concept.

The collection was designed for the highest echelons of society, intended for women who were not merely consumers of fragrance but arbiters of taste and refinement. These perfumes were not relegated to the dressing table as casual adornments; they were worn as statements of identity and prestige, perfuming the air with subtlety and elegance. In essence, the Jardin d’Hiver Collection embodies the aristocratic ethos of mid-19th century Paris—a union of botanical scholarship, artistic sophistication, and the cultivated elegance expected of the queens of fashion and fortune. Each fragrance is an intimate portrait of a singular flower, captured with the utmost care, and presented as a jewel of olfactory refinement.

Fragrance Composition:

So what does it smell like? The perfume’s star ingredient, Anthaemia nobilis or Roman chamomile, was prized for its gentle, subtly sweet floral aroma, often associated with comfort and quiet luxury. The essential oil, typically steam-distilled from the flowers, carries notes of apple-like freshness, soft herbaceous warmth, and a hint of honeyed sweetness, which combine to create a calming, almost balsamic character. 

• Top notes:
• Middle notes:
• Base notes:

Bottle:

Presented in the carre flacon.

Petit courrier des dames: Journal des modes, 1848:

"By creating the Château des Fleurs, inventing the Jardin d’Hiver, and making flowers fashionable in all the salons of Paris, the trend of perfumery simultaneously returned—after having been somewhat neglected due to the overuse of amber, musk, and vetiver. Yet the perfumes that reappear today bear no resemblance to those bourgeois emanations of old-fashioned coquetry. At Guerlain, 11 Rue de la Paix, however, belongs the right to this thoroughly modern renewal, offering compositions more delicate, more suave, more gentle on the nerves, and more voluptuous to the sense of smell than any other.

Ladies of good society are recognized by these perfumes, just as the high lineage of noble families is recognized by their coats of arms; and when a lock of hair flutters near you, when a magnificent handkerchief falls beside you, or when a fresh, coquettish glove happens to brush near your lips, you can judge by the fragrance emanating from that hair, that handkerchief, or those gloves whether the woman to whom they belong has received at Guerlain the mark of good taste, fashion, and refinement.

New odors composed by Guerlain:

• Extrait de Lolium agriphyllum 
• Extrait de Phlomis asplenia, 
• Extrait d'Azalea melaleuca
• Extrait de Cyparisse Elaidon
• Extrait d'Hyemalis anthelia
• Extrait de Cytise sylvaria 
• Extrait d'Anthemia nobilis 
• Extrait de Cyperus ruber  
• Extrait de Tilia micropluilla
• Extrait d'Hymenaea nitida 
• Extrait de Mimosa fragrans
• Extrait de Caryophilus album 
• Extrait d'Amyris Polyolens 
• Extrait de Polyanthe suaveolens  
• Extrait de Lathyrus odorans  
• Extrait d'Ocymum dulce 

By bringing to light these entirely new perfumes, Guerlain points out that they can only be found at home, and recommends to be on guard against the imitations that one will try to make."

Shalimar - Special Edition in Leather Case 1984

In 1984, Guerlain unveiled a luxurious and highly collectible presentation of Shalimar Parfum, a masterpiece of refinement that elevated the iconic fragrance to an object of art. The perfume was housed in a 30 ml Baccarat crystal flacon, whose clarity and weight conveyed the timeless quality of Guerlain’s craftsmanship. Each flacon was nestled within a white suede-covered presentation box, the surface soft and opulent to the touch—an embodiment of tactile luxury that complemented the sensual nature of the scent itself.

The box design featured the distinctive gilded metal lattice motif first introduced on Guerlain’s Habit de Fête refillable cases from 1982 to 1990, a hallmark pattern that symbolized the house’s devotion to elegance and continuity. For this edition, the lattice was further enhanced with accents of turquoise blue, a hue that lent the piece a serene yet regal sophistication. The combination of gold and turquoise—colors often associated with opulence, purity, and Eastern splendor—echoed Shalimar’s storied origins as a fragrance inspired by the romance and luxury of the Orient.

This special edition was strictly limited to 2,000 examples, making it an exceptionally rare find among collectors today. Every detail, from the crystalline clarity of the Baccarat bottle to the tactile elegance of the white suede and the jewel-like embellishments of the box, spoke to Guerlain’s commitment to artistry and its reverence for heritage. The 1984 Shalimar Parfum presentation captured not only the essence of the perfume itself—exotic, sensual, and eternal—but also the grandeur of Guerlain’s vision of beauty and refinement.

Ocymum Dulce 1848

Ocymum Dulce by Guerlain, launched in 1848 as part of the Jardin d’Hiver Collection, reflected the house’s fascination with nature’s aromatic diversity and classical botany. The name itself, Ocymum Dulce—derived from Latin—translates to “sweet basil,” pronounced as "Oh-see-mum Dool-chay". The use of Latin, rather than French, gave the perfume an aura of scientific sophistication and timeless elegance, echoing the 19th century’s obsession with cataloguing the natural world. To the fashionable women of mid-19th-century Paris, a name like Ocymum Dulce would have conjured visions of a conservatory filled with potted herbs and exotic plants—sunlight streaming through glass, the air rich with aromatic greenness and faint floral warmth.

In choosing this name, Guerlain celebrated not only the beauty of nature but also the refinement of intellect and taste. The word Ocymum comes from the Greek okimon, meaning basil, a plant long revered for its aromatic leaves and spiritual symbolism. Dulce, meaning “sweet,” described its softer, more honeyed and clove-like nuances, distinct from the sharper, camphorous notes of common basil. The combination of these words evoked a sense of purity and quiet vitality—an herb garden distilled into perfume form. To 19th-century sensibilities, it suggested both the elegance of nature tamed for polite society and the exotic allure of distant, sun-drenched lands where such plants thrived.

The perfume debuted at a time of great cultural and industrial transformation. France in 1848 was marked by political upheaval—the end of the July Monarchy and the birth of the Second Republic—but amid the turbulence, a romantic ideal of beauty and nature persisted in art, fashion, and fragrance. The Jardin d’Hiver Collection embodied this aesthetic: delicate, intellectual, and naturalistic. Fashion emphasized lightness and refinement—women wore gowns in soft pastels and floral prints, and interiors were decorated with botanical motifs and greenhouse-inspired glass domes. Perfumes, in turn, began moving away from the heavy animalic and amber bases of earlier decades toward fresher compositions that captured the scent of living plants and flowers.

Ocymum Dulce would have appealed to the cultivated woman of this period—one who appreciated both the poetry and science of scent. She would recognize the perfume not as a simple herbal accord, but as a symbol of modern refinement: clean, verdant, and subtly sensual. Interpreted in scent, Ocymum Dulce would have combined the crisp greenness of basil leaf with its spicy, anise-like undertones, softened by perhaps a touch of floral sweetness and a warm, musky base to lend body and sophistication. It would smell like the meeting point of a sun-warmed garden and a Parisian salon—alive, elegant, and quietly luxurious.

In the context of other fragrances of its time, Ocymum Dulce stood apart. While most perfumes in the 1840s favored floral bouquets or rich balsamic blends, this fragrance ventured into greener, more aromatic territory. Guerlain’s choice to highlight an herb rather than a blossom was both daring and modern, aligning with the intellectual fascination of the age and foreshadowing the aromatic, unisex compositions that would not become fashionable until many decades later.

Jardin d’Hiver Collection:

Guerlain’s Jardin d’Hiver Collection, launched in 1848, represents a remarkable celebration of botanical singularity and refined artistry. Each fragrance within the collection is devoted to a single floral or plant note, captured with painstaking care to highlight its unique character and essence. The collection’s Latin-styled names—Tilia microphylla, Lathyrus odorans, Mimosa fragrans, Cyperus ruber, and the most recent addition (1853), Mimosa Esterhazya—lend an air of classical sophistication, evoking the scholarly prestige and aristocratic refinement associated with the study of plants and natural sciences. These names, both precise and exotic, signal the high level of craft and attention devoted to each fragrance, appealing to a clientele who valued knowledge, taste, and exclusivity.

At the 1851 Universal Exposition, these perfumes competed not merely as products of luxury, but as demonstrations of technical mastery and artistic innovation. Each extrait is a distillation of a single botanical note, conveying the essence of the plant in a way that is at once vivid, nuanced, and enduring. Tilia microphylla, for instance, would have unfolded with the delicate, honeyed softness of its linden blossoms, while Mimosa fragrans exudes a sunlit, powdery warmth, evocative of early spring mornings. Cyperus ruber, with its earthy, subtly green facets, contrasts with the intensely floral sweetness of Lathyrus odorans, creating a spectrum of olfactory experiences within a unified concept.

The collection was designed for the highest echelons of society, intended for women who were not merely consumers of fragrance but arbiters of taste and refinement. These perfumes were not relegated to the dressing table as casual adornments; they were worn as statements of identity and prestige, perfuming the air with subtlety and elegance. In essence, the Jardin d’Hiver Collection embodies the aristocratic ethos of mid-19th century Paris—a union of botanical scholarship, artistic sophistication, and the cultivated elegance expected of the queens of fashion and fortune. Each fragrance is an intimate portrait of a singular flower, captured with the utmost care, and presented as a jewel of olfactory refinement.

Fragrance Composition:

So what does it smell like? It is classified as a floral oriental fragrance.

• Top notes: bergamot, citron, orange, cassie, basil
• Middle notes: verbena, geranium, rose, jasmine, tuberose
• Base notes: rose, musk, storax, tonka bean, vanilla

Scent Profile:

Imagine lifting the stopper of this Guerlain floral oriental and inhaling the first airy burst of bergamot, citron, and orange. The citrus feels like sunlight spilling across a Mediterranean terrace—bright, sparkling, and slightly green. Bergamot from Calabria, Italy, is prized for its balance of bitter and sweet nuances, offering a lightly spicy undertone alongside a luminous zest. Citron adds a subtly tart and resinous brightness, while the orange contributes a juicy, sunny sweetness. Layered alongside these fruits is cassie, the delicate, powdery aroma of mimosa, giving the opening a soft floral veil that tempers the sharpness of citrus. The inclusion of basil, likely from Provence, introduces a subtle herbaceous warmth, with aromatic eugenol and linalool compounds that lend a lightly spicy and green nuance, grounding the bright top notes and making them intriguingly complex.

As the perfume unfolds, the heart emerges, a rich bouquet of verbena, geranium, rose, jasmine, and tuberose. The verbena feels like crushed leaves releasing a bright, tangy, and slightly floral green scent, enhancing the citrus top notes while providing a fresh verdant signature. Geranium adds a rosy-tinged complexity, often richer and greener than the pure rose, with small hints of minty freshness, a result of its naturally occurring citronellol and geraniol. The rose here, reminiscent of Damask petals, is plush and opulent, a luxurious floral anchor softened by jasmine, whose indolic compounds provide sensual creaminess and luminous depth. Tuberose, full-bodied and creamy, wraps the bouquet in a rich, almost narcotic softness, its naturally occurring lactones contributing a slightly animalic sweetness that is sensual yet refined. This floral heart is where the perfume’s oriental character quietly begins to emerge.

Finally, the base settles in—a warm, enveloping harmony of rose, musk, storax, tonka bean, and vanilla. The repeating rose in the base emphasizes the continuity and elegance of the bouquet, its scent now deeper and almost velvety. Musk adds a clean, animalic softness that enhances the wearer's skin-like warmth. Storax, a resin from the Liquidambar tree, brings balsamic sweetness and a subtle smoky undertone, bridging the florals with the gourmand warmth of tonka bean, which exudes almond-like, slightly vanilla nuances thanks to its natural coumarin content. Vanilla, possibly sourced from Madagascar, rounds the composition with creamy, comforting sweetness, harmonizing the citrus freshness and floral opulence into a sensual, lingering trail. Together, these ingredients create a floral oriental that is simultaneously bright, intricate, and warmly enveloping—a perfume that moves gracefully from sunlit citrus to an elegant floral heart, finally resting in a soft, resinous, and subtly sweet base.

This fragrance exemplifies how Guerlain masterfully balances freshness, floral complexity, and oriental warmth, creating a sophisticated olfactory journey that is both immediately appealing and enduringly elegant.

Bottle:

Presented in the carre flacon.

Petit courrier des dames: Journal des modes, 1848:

"By creating the Château des Fleurs, inventing the Jardin d’Hiver, and making flowers fashionable in all the salons of Paris, the trend of perfumery simultaneously returned—after having been somewhat neglected due to the overuse of amber, musk, and vetiver. Yet the perfumes that reappear today bear no resemblance to those bourgeois emanations of old-fashioned coquetry. At Guerlain, 11 Rue de la Paix, however, belongs the right to this thoroughly modern renewal, offering compositions more delicate, more suave, more gentle on the nerves, and more voluptuous to the sense of smell than any other.

Ladies of good society are recognized by these perfumes, just as the high lineage of noble families is recognized by their coats of arms; and when a lock of hair flutters near you, when a magnificent handkerchief falls beside you, or when a fresh, coquettish glove happens to brush near your lips, you can judge by the fragrance emanating from that hair, that handkerchief, or those gloves whether the woman to whom they belong has received at Guerlain the mark of good taste, fashion, and refinement.

New odors composed by Guerlain:

• Extrait de Lolium agriphyllum 
• Extrait de Phlomis asplenia, 
• Extrait d'Azalea melaleuca
• Extrait de Cyparisse Elaidon
• Extrait d'Hyemalis anthelia
• Extrait de Cytise sylvaria 
• Extrait d'Anthemia nobilis 
• Extrait de Cyperus ruber  
• Extrait de Tilia micropluilla
• Extrait d'Hymenaea nitida 
• Extrait de Mimosa fragrans
• Extrait de Caryophilus album 
• Extrait d'Amyris Polyolens 
• Extrait de Polyanthe suaveolens  
• Extrait de Lathyrus odorans  
• Extrait d'Ocymum dulce 

By bringing to light these entirely new perfumes, Guerlain points out that they can only be found at home, and recommends to be on guard against the imitations that one will try to make."

Aqua Allegoria Forte Rosa Rossa 2022

Aqua Allegoria Forte Rosa Rossa by Guerlain, launched in 2022, is an ode to radiance, femininity, and strength. The name Forte Rosa Rossa comes from Italian—forte meaning “strong” or “intense,” rosa meaning “rose,” and rossa meaning “red.” Pronounced "FOR-tay ROH-zah ROH-sah", the name translates loosely as “intense red rose.” It evokes the image of a rose caught in the golden light of dusk—lush, velvety, and powerfully fragrant. The use of Italian, a language long associated with music, beauty, and emotion, lends the name a lyrical sensuality that perfectly suits Guerlain’s modern yet romantic vision for the Aqua Allegoria line.

The imagery of Rosa Rossa stirs emotion before the perfume even touches the skin. It conjures a rose in full bloom, its petals gleaming with dew and touched by warmth—neither fragile nor demure, but confident and full of life. The word forte adds an element of character and projection; this is not a whispering rose but one that sings—a rose alive with sunlight and color. Guerlain’s choice of name reflects the duality at the heart of this creation: the timeless grace of the rose paired with the vibrancy and sensuality of modern womanhood.

When Forte Rosa Rossa appeared in 2022, the world was in the midst of transformation. Post-pandemic life was rekindling a hunger for optimism, nature, and emotional authenticity. In perfumery, this translated to scents that felt uplifting yet comforting—creations that balanced transparency with depth. The Aqua Allegoria Forte series represented this shift perfectly, reimagining the house’s beloved fresh eaux with richer, more long-lasting formulas. The “forte” concentration mirrored a cultural desire for connection and intensity after years of restraint. Fashion was embracing tactile luxury—natural silks, florals, and glowing neutral palettes—echoing the same sensual minimalism that defined contemporary fragrance.

For women of the time, a perfume called Forte Rosa Rossa would feel like both a classic and a declaration. The rose has always been perfumery’s most feminine flower, but here it is presented as strong, radiant, and self-assured. This is not the delicate rose of Victorian sentiment, but a modern rose blooming boldly—a symbol of emotional strength wrapped in beauty. Wearing Forte Rosa Rossa feels like adorning oneself with confidence and grace, as if every petal of scent affirms vitality and joy.

 

Interpreted in scent, Forte Rosa Rossa captures the idea of a rose bathed in sunlight and framed by fruit and wood. It opens with the juicy sweetness of white peach—luminous and velvety, its lactonic molecules imparting a soft, skin-like sensuality. This note bridges fruit and flower, making the rose feel more tender and lifelike. The rose itself is multifaceted: a blend of Bulgarian and Turkish varieties, each known for their exceptional richness and complexity. The Bulgarian rose contributes freshness, dewiness, and green citrus tones from its natural citronellol and geraniol, while the Turkish rose brings honeyed depth and a warm, spicy undertone. The result is a rose that feels simultaneously natural and luxurious, as if captured in the warmth of late afternoon light.

Supporting the floral heart are soft hints of lychee and blackcurrant, which enhance the fruity facets of the rose without overwhelming it. The scent gradually deepens into a base of sandalwood and tonka bean, where creaminess and warmth take hold. The sandalwood provides a smooth, milky woodiness rich in santalol, while the tonka’s coumarin molecules contribute a comforting almond-vanilla sweetness. Together, they lend the rose a subtle gourmand glow, turning what could have been purely floral into something rounder, more tactile, and deeply sensual.

In the context of early 2020s perfumery, Aqua Allegoria Forte Rosa Rossa aligned beautifully with the era’s evolving sensibilities. It combined natural materials with luminous modernity, transparency with endurance, and classic themes with contemporary emotion. While it echoed the broader trend toward fruity-floral compositions, it stood apart in Guerlain’s masterful balance—never cloying, always refined. It captured a moment in time when women sought scents that mirrored their own contradictions: strength within softness, vitality within serenity, and timeless beauty expressed through modern light.

Fragrance Composition:

So what does it smell like? It is classified as a fruity floral gourmand fragrance for women. Forte Rosa Rossa: Majestically blooming sweet roses bathed in light, paired with a juicy white peach over a deliciously woody base.

• Top notes: peach, cassis, pink pepper and almond
• Middle notes: Bulgarian rose and damask rose
• Base notes: patchouli, benzoin and sandalwood

Scent Profile:

Forte Rosa Rossa unfolds like the slow opening of a sunlit rose, each note revealing a new texture, a new color, a new emotion. The first breath is luminous and mouthwatering—white peach glistening with dew. Its scent is soft and velvety, reminiscent of the delicate fuzz on the fruit’s skin. Naturally rich in gamma-decalactone and lactones, peach contributes a creamy sweetness and a tender, skin-like warmth that feels almost tactile. This note doesn’t simply announce itself—it melts across the senses, setting the tone for a perfume that balances voluptuousness with refinement.

Alongside the peach rises cassis, or blackcurrant, adding a sharp, green-fruity tang that keeps the opening lively. French-grown cassis buds are prized for their depth—both juicy and slightly animalic, their complex profile contains dimethyl sulfide and cis-3-hexenol, molecules that create a tart, earthy freshness suggestive of crushed leaves and fruit still on the branch. The pairing of peach and cassis is a play of contrasts: ripe sweetness meets crisp verdure, creating a sense of movement within the fragrance, as though sunlight were flickering through orchard leaves.

Then, a trace of pink pepper shimmers through—a rosy, effervescent spice that brightens the entire composition. Extracted from the berries of the Peruvian Schinus molle tree, this ingredient is prized for its clean sparkle and subtle warmth. Its key aroma molecules, limonene and beta-phellandrene, lend a radiant citrus lift that enlivens the florals to come. Beneath this glimmer lies a touch of almond, delicately bitter yet creamy, rich in benzaldehyde which imparts that familiar marzipan nuance. The almond softens the brightness of the fruits, evoking the image of rose petals dusted with fine confectioner’s sugar.

As the fragrance blooms, the heart reveals its opulent core—the marriage of Bulgarian and Damask roses. The Bulgarian rose, grown in the famed Valley of Roses near Kazanlak, is celebrated for its fresh, slightly lemony and green character, abundant in citronellol and geraniol which lend dewy, radiant qualities. The Damask rose, cultivated in both Turkey and Iran, deepens the floral heart with velvety richness and honeyed spice, thanks to its higher content of phenylethyl alcohol and eugenol. Together, they form a complete rose—one that is alive, multidimensional, and utterly enchanting. It is a rose not of nostalgia but of light—one that seems to glow from within, supported by the lingering trace of peach and almond from above.

In the drydown, warmth gathers like the soft hush of dusk. Sandalwood—likely sourced from New Caledonia or Australia—brings its signature milky-woody smoothness. The alpha- and beta-santalols within its oil provide a creamy depth, enhancing the rose’s velvety texture and allowing it to linger like silk against the skin. Patchouli, from Indonesia, adds an earthy, balsamic undertone; rich in patchoulol and norpatchoulenol, it gives the composition body and sensuality without heaviness. The sweetness of benzoin—a resin from the Styrax tree of Laos—binds the base together, its vanillic, caramel-like warmth echoing the soft almond note from the top and the creamy tone of the sandalwood beneath.

Synthetic elements play a vital role in this structure. Modern isolates of peach lactones amplify the fruit’s radiance while ensuring stability; subtle musks likely round the edges, enhancing diffusion and extending the rose’s aura without overshadowing its natural beauty. The careful interplay between natural richness and synthetic precision allows Forte Rosa Rossa to feel simultaneously classic and modern—lush yet airy, sensual yet polished.

Smelled as a whole, Forte Rosa Rossa feels like standing in a sun-drenched rose garden just after a warm rain, where petals glisten and fruit trees release their fragrance into the air. The sweetness is natural, not syrupy; the woods are caressing, not heavy. Each ingredient feels chosen to echo the duality of the rose itself—its softness and its strength. The perfume radiates a quiet confidence: a rose that does not whisper from a garden wall, but blooms proudly beneath the sun, luminous, full, and eternal.

Fate of the Fragrance:

As fo 2025, it is still available on Guerlain's website.

Hyemalis Anthelia 1848

Hyemalis Anthelia by Guerlain, launched in 1848 as part of the Jardin d’Hiver Collection, was a poetic reflection of winter’s fragile beauty. The name itself is steeped in classical elegance: Hyemalis (pronounced “hee-eh-MA-lis”) derives from Latin and means of winter, while Anthelia (pronounced “an-THEE-lee-ah”) comes from the Greek anti (against) and helios (sun), literally meaning “against the sun.” Together, they evoke the image of a luminous flower that dares to bloom during the coldest, dimmest days of the year — a symbol of endurance, quiet strength, and renewal.

To mid-19th century audiences, such a name would have carried both intellectual charm and poetic depth. This was an age when classical education and scientific curiosity intertwined with aesthetics — when botany, mythology, and art were united in a single romantic vision of nature. “Hyemalis Anthelia” would have conjured a sense of cultivated refinement: the imagery of pale yellow blossoms gleaming through frost, or sunlight refracted through the glass panes of a winter conservatory. The women who wore it likely saw in it an emblem of grace and inner radiance — the ability to remain serene and luminous, even amid the chill of social or seasonal constraint.

The year 1848 was a period of immense cultural change. Europe was swept by revolutions, yet Paris — the epicenter of refinement and fashion — continued to be captivated by beauty and innovation. Guerlain’s Jardin d’Hiver Collection perfectly mirrored this duality: a yearning for natural simplicity expressed through the sophistication of perfumery. Fashion at the time favored demure silhouettes, pale colors, and delicate fabrics — a restrained elegance that echoed the same balance of purity and sensuality embodied by “Hyemalis Anthelia.”

In scent, the perfume would likely have interpreted its name through radiant yellow florals and tender greenery, capturing the promise of spring emerging from the winter earth. The inspiration flower, Eranthis hyemalis (winter aconite), carries a soft pollen-like aroma with nuances of honey, buttercup, and fresh sap. Guerlain might have rendered this impression with mimosa, jonquil, and heliotrope, accenting their powdery sweetness with subtle herbal and green facets — perhaps galbanum or violet leaf to suggest the chill of early dawn.

A faint citrus or aldehydic brightness could have been woven in to symbolize sunlight striking snow, while orris or benzoin would lend a powdery warmth beneath, creating an elegant transition from icy freshness to gentle warmth. The result would have been a floral-green fragrance dusted with golden light — refined, uplifting, and quietly luminous.

In the context of mid-19th century perfumery, Hyemalis Anthelia would have stood out for its delicate, botanical naturalism. Where many perfumes still leaned heavily on animalic or amber bases, Guerlain’s creation celebrated freshness and light. It was a fragrance of intellectual grace — the scent of an awakening world, of cultured femininity poised between nature and art. To wear it would have been to embody the very spirit of resilience and renewal that the name so poetically proclaimed.

Jardin d’Hiver Collection:

Guerlain’s Jardin d’Hiver Collection, launched in 1848, represents a remarkable celebration of botanical singularity and refined artistry. Each fragrance within the collection is devoted to a single floral or plant note, captured with painstaking care to highlight its unique character and essence. The collection’s Latin-styled names—Tilia microphylla, Lathyrus odorans, Mimosa fragrans, Cyperus ruber, and the most recent addition (1853), Mimosa Esterhazya—lend an air of classical sophistication, evoking the scholarly prestige and aristocratic refinement associated with the study of plants and natural sciences. These names, both precise and exotic, signal the high level of craft and attention devoted to each fragrance, appealing to a clientele who valued knowledge, taste, and exclusivity.

At the 1851 Universal Exposition, these perfumes competed not merely as products of luxury, but as demonstrations of technical mastery and artistic innovation. Each extrait is a distillation of a single botanical note, conveying the essence of the plant in a way that is at once vivid, nuanced, and enduring. Tilia microphylla, for instance, would have unfolded with the delicate, honeyed softness of its linden blossoms, while Mimosa fragrans exudes a sunlit, powdery warmth, evocative of early spring mornings. Cyperus ruber, with its earthy, subtly green facets, contrasts with the intensely floral sweetness of Lathyrus odorans, creating a spectrum of olfactory experiences within a unified concept.

The collection was designed for the highest echelons of society, intended for women who were not merely consumers of fragrance but arbiters of taste and refinement. These perfumes were not relegated to the dressing table as casual adornments; they were worn as statements of identity and prestige, perfuming the air with subtlety and elegance. In essence, the Jardin d’Hiver Collection embodies the aristocratic ethos of mid-19th century Paris—a union of botanical scholarship, artistic sophistication, and the cultivated elegance expected of the queens of fashion and fortune. Each fragrance is an intimate portrait of a singular flower, captured with the utmost care, and presented as a jewel of olfactory refinement.

Fragrance Composition:

So what does it smell like? If one could smell Hyemalis Anthelia today, it would likely unfold like a delicate painting of winter giving way to spring — a luminous floral-green composition that captures the quiet radiance of sunlight filtering through frost-covered glass. Its aroma would be gentle yet complex, balancing crisp freshness with tender warmth, like breathing in the cool morning air of a winter garden where the first flowers have dared to bloom.

At first inhale, you might detect a sparkling brightness, suggesting the glint of sunlight on snow. This could have been created through bergamot, bitter orange, or perhaps a note resembling frozen lemon peel, lending an initial clarity and purity to the air. These light, volatile top notes would mimic the sharp chill of early morning, awakening the senses much like a sudden shaft of light in a dim conservatory.

Almost immediately, the heart of the fragrance would begin to soften — a delicate bouquet evoking winter aconite’s golden blossoms. The central accord might have blended mimosa and jonquil for their honeyed, pollen-rich character, gently sweet and softly powdery. A hint of heliotrope could have deepened this floral warmth, adding its creamy, almond-like nuance that bridges the cool florals to a sunlit tenderness.

Threaded through this golden heart would be green and earthy notes, perhaps violet leaf or galbanum, capturing the scent of damp soil just beginning to thaw — the living breath of nature stirring beneath the frost. These green tones would have lent realism and freshness, ensuring that the composition never grew too heavy or cloying.

As the perfume settled, its base would reveal a quiet, comforting warmth. Orris root would provide a velvety, powdery finish, softly reminiscent of the texture of flower petals and fine suede gloves. Benzoin or styrax might add a faint resinous sweetness, echoing the gentle amber light of a late winter sun. Together, they would create a halo of warmth around the cool florals, evoking that moment when winter begins to surrender and light returns.

The overall impression would be delicate yet luminous — a harmony of cool air and golden bloom. It would not shout its beauty, but rather whisper it: refined, quietly optimistic, and deeply feminine. Hyemalis Anthelia would smell of new beginnings — of silk gowns rustling through winter salons, of pale flowers arranged in porcelain urns beside frosted windows, of serenity touched by sunlight. It would embody Guerlain’s early genius for turning nature’s fleeting grace into timeless elegance.

Bottle:

Presented in the carre flacon.

Petit courrier des dames: Journal des modes, 1848:

"By creating the Château des Fleurs, inventing the Jardin d’Hiver, and making flowers fashionable in all the salons of Paris, the trend of perfumery simultaneously returned—after having been somewhat neglected due to the overuse of amber, musk, and vetiver. Yet the perfumes that reappear today bear no resemblance to those bourgeois emanations of old-fashioned coquetry. At Guerlain, 11 Rue de la Paix, however, belongs the right to this thoroughly modern renewal, offering compositions more delicate, more suave, more gentle on the nerves, and more voluptuous to the sense of smell than any other.

Ladies of good society are recognized by these perfumes, just as the high lineage of noble families is recognized by their coats of arms; and when a lock of hair flutters near you, when a magnificent handkerchief falls beside you, or when a fresh, coquettish glove happens to brush near your lips, you can judge by the fragrance emanating from that hair, that handkerchief, or those gloves whether the woman to whom they belong has received at Guerlain the mark of good taste, fashion, and refinement.

New odors composed by Guerlain:

• Extrait de Lolium agriphyllum 
• Extrait de Phlomis asplenia, 
• Extrait d'Azalea melaleuca
• Extrait de Cyparisse Elaidon
• Extrait d'Hyemalis anthelia
• Extrait de Cytise sylvaria 
• Extrait d'Anthemia nobilis 
• Extrait de Cyperus ruber  
• Extrait de Tilia micropluilla
• Extrait d'Hymenaea nitida 
• Extrait de Mimosa fragrans
• Extrait de Caryophilus album 
• Extrait d'Amyris Polyolens 
• Extrait de Polyanthe suaveolens  
• Extrait de Lathyrus odorans  
• Extrait d'Ocymum dulce 

By bringing to light these entirely new perfumes, Guerlain points out that they can only be found at home, and recommends to be on guard against the imitations that one will try to make."

Aubepine 1839

Launched in 1839, Aubépine — pronounced "oh-bay-peen" — takes its name from the French word for hawthorn, a flowering shrub known for its delicate white or pink blossoms and softly sweet, almond-like fragrance. The name itself conjures an image of springtime awakening, when hedgerows burst into bloom and the air fills with a gentle, powdery sweetness. In the Victorian language of flowers, hawthorn symbolized hope, love, and the arrival of happiness, though it also carried an old-world mystique: in folklore, hawthorn was considered both a charm of protection and a symbol of chastity. By choosing this name, Pierre-François Pascal Guerlain celebrated nature’s quiet elegance and emotional depth — qualities that appealed to the refined sensibilities of 19th-century women.

In perfumery, hawthorn (Crataegus monogyna) is valued for its soft, creamy floralcy with a faint bitter-green undertone, reminiscent of almond blossoms and new spring leaves. Its scent contains naturally occurring anisic aldehyde and phenylacetic compounds, which lend it that slightly spicy, powdery sweetness often found in vintage floral bouquets. In Guerlain’s time, true hawthorn tinctures were derived from blossoms harvested in rural France and England, where hedgerows were abundant and fragrant in late spring. Later, as perfumery advanced, synthetic notes such as benzyl acetate, rhodinyl butyrate, and phenyl ethyl acetate became essential to recreating and enhancing the scent of hawthorn. These compounds deepened its creamy, petal-like nuances and added luminosity — a perfect harmony of nature and innovation that Guerlain himself pioneered.

The year 1839 places Aubépine in the Romantic era, a period that prized sentiment, poetry, and nature’s beauty. This was a time when personal fragrance became an intimate expression of refinement and emotional sensibility rather than a mere mask for unpleasant odors. Fashion favored femininity and grace — gowns of soft silks and gauzes, adorned with floral trims, delicate lace, and pastel shades that echoed the natural world. Perfumes followed suit, drawing inspiration from gardens and woodlands. A fragrance named Aubépine would have felt at once fresh, romantic, and genteel — a portrait of the ideal Victorian woman: demure, sensitive, and connected to nature’s purity.

 

Olfactorily, the name Aubépine translates into a floral oriental (floral amber) composition — a luminous blend of airy blossoms resting on a warm, resinous base. The fragrance likely opened with a touch of orange flower and bergamot, unfolding into a heart of hawthorn, jasmine, and rose, and settling into a gentle base of tonka bean, vanilla, and balsam. The warmth of the oriental base would have softened the brightness of the floral heart, creating an aura that was both tender and sensual.

By the mid-19th century, Aubépine had become a perfumery classic. Nearly every perfume house of note — from Paris to London — offered its own interpretation of a “hawthorn bouquet.” Formulas appeared in trade manuals and perfumers’ notebooks, each slightly altered to display the maker’s personal touch. Guerlain’s version, however, stood out for its refinement and its ability to bridge tradition with innovation. In later decades, when perfumers began experimenting with synthetic aroma molecules like heliotropin, which mimics almond blossom and soft powder, the scent of hawthorn evolved into something even more dreamy and abstract — yet its emotional essence remained unchanged.

Thus, Aubépine represents not only one of Guerlain’s earliest floral masterpieces but also an important link in the evolution of perfumery itself — a fragrance that captured the poetry of spring, the innocence of love, and the promise of renewal, all distilled into a bottle of 19th-century charm.

Fragrance Composition:

So what does it smell like? Aubépine is classified as a floral oriental (also known as a floral amber) fragrance.

• Top notes: neroli, orange, cassie, benzyl acetate, rhodinyl butyrate, phenyl ethyl acetate 
• Middle notes: anisic aldehyde, jasmine, tuberose, hawthorn, heliotropin
• Base notes: almond, tonka bean, civet, storax, costus, benzoin, rosewood, vetiver

Scent Profile:

To experience Aubépine is to step into an early spring morning somewhere in the French countryside of the 1830s—where hedgerows bloom with hawthorn, sunlight filters through new green leaves, and the air carries the promise of warmth after a long winter. Classified as a floral oriental, the fragrance unfolds like a slow waltz between delicate blossoms and soft resins, capturing both purity and sensuality in perfect balance.

The opening greets the senses with a sparkling neroli, distilled from the bitter orange blossoms of Tunisia or Italy. Its radiant, honeyed aroma—rich in linalool and nerolidol—evokes sunlight diffused through lace curtains, both fresh and calming. Paired with orange oil, it offers a citrus sweetness that is rounder and more natural than lemon, softened by the golden warmth of the Mediterranean. Into this light steps cassie, the fragrant mimosa-like bloom from southern France, its scent powdery and green with a faint touch of violet leaf. Cassie adds a textured, nostalgic sweetness—like crushed petals mingling with pollen in the breeze. Synthetic esters such as benzyl acetate, rhodinyl butyrate, and phenyl ethyl acetate lend dimension and harmony here. Each of these molecules replicates facets of natural flowers—fruitiness, honey, and green freshness—and heightens the composition’s naturalism. They give body and radiance to the floral opening, making it shimmer and last beyond the fleeting moment of real citrus blossoms.

The heart is where Aubépine truly lives. The namesake hawthorn reveals itself in full bloom—soft, creamy, slightly sweet, and faintly bitter, a note hovering between fresh-cut almond and wildflower honey. Its unique character comes from anisic aldehyde and phenylacetic compounds, naturally present in hawthorn blossoms, which create that tender, powdery-almond aroma so beloved in 19th-century perfumery. Jasmine from Egypt adds a narcotic, opulent warmth—its benzyl acetate and indole giving a sensual undertone that contrasts beautifully with the innocent hawthorn. Tuberose, rich and creamy, brings a luxurious depth, while heliotropin introduces a velvety sweetness, reminiscent of sugared almonds and sunlit petals. The balance between these florals and the gentle almond-like nuances creates a romantic softness, at once intimate and ethereal.

As the fragrance settles, the base unfurls like antique silk. Almond and tonka bean blend seamlessly, their shared molecule, coumarin, infusing the perfume with a comforting, powdery warmth that feels like a whisper of nostalgia. Storax and benzoin, resins once traded along ancient spice routes, give a balsamic richness—ambery, slightly smoky, and enveloping—binding the floral notes in a golden haze. The presence of rosewood adds polish and grace, while vetiver, likely from Haiti, lends a subtle dryness that grounds the composition, preventing it from becoming overly sweet. In the background, civet and costus contribute the faintest animalic hum—never overt, but enough to suggest skin and intimacy, transforming the airy bouquet into something quietly sensual.

This interplay of natural extracts and early synthetics marks Aubépine as a bridge between eras—rooted in the romantic naturalism of the early 19th century yet already embracing the technical sophistication that would define modern perfumery. The synthetics—delicate esters, heliotropin, and anisic aldehyde—serve not to replace the natural materials but to amplify and perfect them, preserving the fleeting beauty of flowers that fade too quickly in their natural state.

Smelling Aubépine today is like uncovering a forgotten letter pressed between the pages of an old book—a memory of spring, innocence, and early perfumery’s artistry. It speaks of youth and refinement, of women in pastel silks and lace gloves, their perfumes as gentle as their whispered confidences. The scent of Aubépine lingers softly, like the last light of afternoon—a floral sigh warmed by amber and memory.

Bottle:

Aubepine was housed in the Carre flacon starting in 1870.

Fate of the Fragrance:

Aubépine was eventually discontinued, though the exact date remains unknown. What is known is that it was still being produced and sold as late as 1887, more than forty years after its debut — a testament to its enduring popularity and refined composition. Its long lifespan reflects both the craftsmanship of Pierre-François Pascal Guerlain and the continued appeal of soft floral perfumes in 19th-century France. During this period, Aubépine had become a familiar favorite among women of taste — a fragrance that bridged generations, retaining its romantic charm even as perfumery evolved toward more complex, modern creations.

That Aubépine remained on sale well into the late 19th century also highlights Guerlain’s reputation for timelessness and quality. While other perfumers moved quickly from one fashionable scent to the next, Guerlain’s creations often lingered for decades, cherished by loyal clients who valued consistency and refinement over novelty. By the 1880s, when synthetic aroma materials were beginning to revolutionize the art of perfumery, Aubépine stood as a graceful survivor from an earlier, more romantic era — a scent of pure blossoms, tender warmth, and quiet sophistication.

In this way, the perfume’s longevity serves as both a marker of its success and a symbol of Guerlain’s early mastery. Though eventually discontinued, Aubépine left behind an olfactory legacy: it captured the essence of 19th-century femininity and foreshadowed the floral oriental harmony that would become one of Guerlain’s enduring signatures.