A Very Brief History of New York Perfume Houses - and a Prize Draw

By Donna In modern times, New York City has truly become the co-capital of the perfume industry along with Paris, with all the major players having offices in the U.S. and so many famous fashion designers of modern times such as Ralph Lauren, Calvin Klein, Bill Blass and Donna Karan introduced their own fragrances too. However, it was not always thus; at one time France ruled the perfume world and American houses were considered second-rate at best. Dozens of domestic cosmetic and fragrance firms rose and fell in the early decades of the twentieth century, many of them doomed to fail for reasons of both quality and competition, and American fashion designers of the time introduced their own perfumes just like the French couturiers did. Out of all this emerged some enduring classics, and more than a few which deserved more recognition but languished in obscurity. Certainly one of the best known names in the former category is Prince Matchabelli. Casual perfume fans may not know that Georges Matchabelli was a real person, an amateur chemist who opened a little shop on Madison Avenue after fleeing the Russian revolution. Most of the very early fragrances from this house are lost to us, although the beautiful crown-shaped bottles are much sought after by collectors, and it was only after the business was sold in 1936 that their most famous perfumes were introduced; Beloved, Prophecy, Stradivari, Golden Autumn and of course the most famous all, Wind Song in 1953. The company changed hands several times and today the only older classic in the lineup is Wind Song, now much changed from its original formula. At one time the Matchabelli perfume company was an American tradition. Several of its fragrances, including the feminine floral Added Attraction, were once given away by car dealers as a free gift with purchase of a new Chevrolet automobile; something for “the little woman” as it was assumed that her husband was the one paying for the car. How times have changed! I have had the opportunity to smell several of the vintage Prince Matchabelli perfumes, and they are much better than the drugstore version sold today. Other New York based companies have long since passed into oblivion, but their names still echo in the minds of collectors and perfume historians. Blanchard Perfumes only released a few scents, but the names Jealousy and Evening Star still arouse longing in the hearts of vintage fragrance aficionados. The name Lander may be familiar to most Americans for their toiletries such as deodorant and shampoo, but the company also produced a number of perfumes including Cave Man (1943) and Golden Gardenia (1947). The Mary Chess line is no more, but this All-American firm was noted for its quality perfumes, including White Lilac (1932) and Tapestry (1934.) One of the least known names today is Nettie Rosenstein, a talented fashion designed who released only five fragrances, all of high quality. The most famous of these was a wonderful Oriental style perfume called Odalisque in 1953. Of course, no discussion of New York originals would be complete without talking about the big players of American cosmetics: Revlon, Elizabeth Arden, Estée Lauder and Helena Rubinstein. These powerhouses were greatly responsible for putting America on the world business map and giving American cosmetic and fragrance products the international respect they deserved. Even today, such classic scents as Elizabeth Arden's Blue Grass (1934), Estée Lauder's Youth-Dew (1953) and Revlon's Charlie (1973) are sold in department stores all over the world. They found success where so many others failed, but I find the stories of the older perfume and fashion houses to be fascinating; many of them held to a standard of quality that is rarely seen today. I have long been an admirer of the Helena Rubinstein cosmetic line, and I was very disappointed when the company was sold to L'Oreal and its products withdrawn from the U.S. market some years ago. Helena (née Chaja) Rubinstein, a Polish immigrant who gained considerable success in Australia before coming to New York, introduced a large number of perfumes, including the very popular Apple Blossom in 1936 and of course the enduring icon Heaven Sent in 1941. The latter's formula is now owned by Dana and the fragrance is still sold today, but of course it's not the same as it once was. Two fragrances that were introduced after “Madame” Rubinstein died in 1965 were Courant (1972), a lovely sophisticated floral chypre, and Barynia (1985) a little-known but very beautiful fresh aldehydic floral. I own and wear both of these excellent perfumes. Anyone with even a passing interest in the beauty business probably knows of her great and contentious rivalry with Elizabeth Arden; these two titans of business fought their way to the top and paved the way for female-run businesses. (Recently a new Helena Rubinstein brand perfume called Wanted was introduced as part of the line's re-entry to the U.S. Market, but I found it formulaic and uninteresting, although quite pretty.) The excellent television documentary called The Powder & The Glory, based on the well-researched book called War Paint: Miss Elizabeth Arden and Madame Helena Rubinstein — Their Lives, Their Times, Their Rivalry by Lindy Woodhead is well worth watching, or read the book if you really want to dig into this fascinating study of two American beauty tycoons. I am offering a drawing for a selection of vintage American perfume samples to one lucky U.S. reader – Prince Matchabelli Added Attraction and Stradivari eau de toilettes, Nettie Rosenstein Odalisque eau de parfum and Mary Chess Tapestry eau de toilette. Please leave a comment in order to be included in the draw, which will be open for one week only. (Sorry, I can only ship to U.S. addresses.) Image credits: Prince Matchabelli Beloved crown bottle from collector site beckerstreet.com. Vintage Nettie Rosenstein Perfumes ad from EBay image.

An Unexpected Pleasure: Vintage Wind Song by Prince Matchabelli (1952)

By Donna I had a rather humbling experience recently. Someone I know in the perfume community decided to put some of his extensive collection up for auction on eBay. I was a complete neophyte, never having used eBay, since I was wary of scammers and buying from “stores” that may or not be on the level. However, knowing what his collection was like I signed up and eagerly went to his page to place a bid. Surely there was something in that stash I could afford, right? Why, look at that, something I love under 20 bucks, and bidding is slow, I might score it for under 30, let me just – hey! Who outbid me by twice as much with only three seconds to go? Rinse and repeat a few more times with several more bottles, and pretty soon I knew I could not run with the big dogs. The blood was in the water and the sharks were circling. The scents were all of quite recent origin and from prestige niche houses, what was I thinking? Now I realize it was a blessing in disguise, because once I was done licking my wounds I thought I might as well look around and see what else was on there from other sellers. I had a list of things I had been meaning to look for anyway, and they were not all that much in demand as far as I knew. I vowed to do business only with sellers that had a long history and high approval ratings, and off I went. A few months ago I had read a delicious description of vintage Wind Song, the classic drugstore standard from Prince Matchabelli, and how it compared to the current version. It stuck in my mind, because Wind Song came out only a few years before I was born –which meant that the “vintage” was my contemporary, and that’s what I would have smelled as a child in the cosmetics aisle of my beloved Woolworth’s store. I had only smelled the modern version a few times and found it wanting in the same way so many reformulated fragrances are; a bit sharp and also simple, though far better than many so-called designer fragrances that cost far more. I had never worn it when I was younger but I did find it pleasing and I liked it on other people, and I have to think that my early positive experience with it was in fact because it as the original. So I did a quick search and up it popped, the original juice in an adorable little glass crown-shaped bottle – for five bucks and a “Buy Now” option! Wow, could that be for real? It looked legitimate, as I had researched the bottles, and the new one is taller and more columnar. The first Matchabelli scents were color-coded by scent and bottled in the puffy glass crown containers (yes, the Prince really was a prince) and later versions were plastic but in the same style, until the switch to the current design. So I took the plunge and bought it. When it arrived it was a glass bottle, which was a good sign. I opened it up and noted that it had the original seal. It smelled very good and so familiar, and the funky little lunch counter and notions department of Woolworth’s floated into my mind. I loved that place, now long gone, so it was a pleasing association. (Prince Matchabelli is also associated in my mind with one of the funniest lines ever from The Sopranos, but that’s just me.) I splashed a generous amount on my arm and went about my day. It was a fresh, aldehydic and slightly soapy floral, so familiar yet not so, since so many years had passed. A hint of spicy carnation added interest at the opening, but over time it had softened, and the fragrance was very round and gentle. I had already put another, stronger perfume on earlier, so I did not expect it to assert itself very much, but it did indeed, catching my attention every so often, and it was lovely as it settled in. Hours later, when I went to bed, I laid my head on my arm and –wow, what was that? A radiant accord of neroli and mandarin had fused with my skin and was glowing with the burnished depth of amber and sandalwood. I could hardly believe that the innocent little ingénue I had applied earlier in the day had turned into a temptress by night. The more I smelled it the more enamored I was. Another application with no competition confirmed its qualities. Many years ago a very dear friend who wore nothing but Wind Song told me that she had thought of trying another perfume, but her husband would not hear of it – he was crazy about Wind Song and bought her a new bottle every year. At the time I thought maybe she should branch out anyway, just to try something else, but after my revelation I know exactly why he loved her in Wind Song. It’s just like the slogan goes: “I can’t seem to forget you” – a truly romantic fragrance. From Fragrantica, the composition is as follows: Top notes are coriander, orange leaf, mandarin orange, tarragon, neroli, bergamot and lemon; heart notes are cloves, carnation, orris root, jasmine, ylang-ylang, rose and Brazilian rosewood; base notes are sandalwood, amber, musk, benzoin, vetiver and cedar. The newer formula is much sharper on top than mine, but I don’t know how much of that is the natural breakdown of the top notes and what can be attributed to a reformulation. However, most of these notes are easily discernible in the vintage, so it has probably not been bowdlerized as much as some older scents have when they are reworked. It’s the wonderful drydown that really sets it apart; I had no idea what a beautiful symphony of orange essence this perfume was. I will wear it with pride, right alongside the pricier perfumes in my collection. It has earned its place. Image credit: 1959 Wind Song ad via shopstyle.com. This bottle looks very much like mine, isn’t it adorable?