Empress of India by Prince Matchabelli, launched in 1929, was a fragrance steeped in opulence and imperial nostalgia. Its very name—Empress of India—was a direct nod to Queen Victoria, who bore the title during the height of the British Empire. The phrase conjures images of jeweled thrones, richly embroidered silks, perfumed palaces, and the long-reaching mystique of the East as imagined through Western eyes. At a time when exoticism and colonial romanticism were still strong cultural influences, a perfume bearing this title would have evoked a sense of regal authority, sensual grandeur, and distant lands shimmering in spice-scented heat.
Launched at the cusp of the Great Depression, Empress of India reflected the end of the extravagant Roaring Twenties—a time known for its jazz-fueled decadence, modernist fashion, and a dramatic shift in women’s roles and styles. Perfume during this period became a significant form of self-expression, and oriental-style fragrances in particular gained immense popularity for their perceived mystery and sensuality. As women increasingly embraced bold new freedoms, they also embraced bolder scents. Matchabelli’s Empress of India fit squarely within this trend but distinguished itself through its deeply evocative theme and luxurious execution.
The fragrance was described evocatively as “a memory of the unforgettable Orient,” intended to transport the wearer to a dreamscape of spice markets, incense smoke, and flower-scented evenings. Its composition was unmistakably rich—heavy, warm, and spicy—anchored by Mysore sandalwood, one of the most prized perfumery materials of Indian origin. It wove together notes of exotic champaca flower, clove-like carnation, vetiver, and heady jasmine, conjuring the layered intensity of Indian perfumery traditions while filtered through a Western lens.
To women of the late 1920s, Empress of India would have embodied aspiration and allure. It invited the wearer to step into a fantasy of imperial elegance and faraway splendor. It spoke to a longing for mystery and romance during an increasingly modern—and uncertain—world. Though oriental perfumes had become a popular genre since the success of Guerlain’s Shalimar in 1925, Empress of India offered a unique interpretation: it wasn’t merely an exotic perfume, but one that claimed heritage, history, and a sense of storytelling rooted in global cultural fascination.
In that context, Empress of India stood out not just as a fashionable fragrance, but as an olfactory narrative—one that blended the romantic imperialism of the Victorian past with the spicy modernity of early 20th-century perfumery.
Norina Matchabelli, a seasoned dramatic actress and co-founder of the Prince Matchabelli perfume house, played a pivotal role not only behind the scenes of the company but also in its public image and promotional success. Drawing from her extensive connections in the theatrical world, Norina masterfully blended artistry and marketing, positioning Prince Matchabelli fragrances among the upper echelons of cultural society. Her involvement extended far beyond business administration—she embodied the brand’s ethos of refinement and romantic grandeur, often using her stage presence and personal charm to elevate its prestige.
In 1935, during the height of her success following a lauded performance in Victoria Regina, a play centered on the life of Queen Victoria, Norina found an opportunity to link her dramatic career with the perfume house's narrative flair. It was announced that Princess Matchabelli would personally attend a performance by celebrated actress Helen Hayes, who was portraying the young Queen Victoria on stage. At this event, Norina, always aware of the symbolic power of gesture, presented Hayes with a bottle of Empress of India. Rich, warm, and exotic, the fragrance was perfectly suited for a monarch—even a theatrical one. With its spicy oriental composition resting on a base of Mysore sandalwood, Empress of India embodied the mystique and imperial opulence that echoed both Queen Victoria’s reign and the theatrical atmosphere surrounding the play.
There are alternate accounts suggesting that the perfume Norina presented may have been Katharine the Great, a scent reportedly inspired by her admiration for actress Katharine Hepburn. Yet whichever bottle was ultimately given, it is known that Helen Hayes herself favored Duchess of York, a lighter, more youthful fragrance composed of fresh lilac and jasmine. The scent resonated with Hayes’ gentle, endearing portrayal of the young queen and perhaps reflected her personal preference for delicate, floral compositions.
This charming anecdote illustrates Norina Matchabelli’s intuitive grasp of branding and storytelling. She understood that perfumes, like plays, could transport their audience—and she used the stage as an extension of her perfume counter. By intertwining fragrance with figures of drama and royalty, Norina wove the brand’s identity into the very fabric of culture and society, reinforcing the idea that Prince Matchabelli perfumes were not just scents—but statements of elegance, legacy, and allure.
Fragrance Composition:
- Top notes: Calabrian bergamot, Tunisian neroli, Indian kewda, Indian saffron, Indian champaca
- Middle notes: Moroccan orange blossom absolute, Indian tuberose absolute, Indian jasmine absolute, Turkish rose attar, Ceylon cardamom, Ceylon cinnamon, Jamaican nutmeg, Indian carnation, Zanzibar clove bud oil, eugenol, Malabar black pepper, Russian coriander seed, Florentine orris root
- Base notes: benzyl salicylate, Yemeni opoponax, Maltese labdanum, ambergris, ambreine, Canadian castoreum, Abyssinian civet, Bourbon vanilla, vanillin, Siam benzoin, Venezuelan tonka bean, coumarin, Mysore sandalwood, East Indian vetiver, Indian patchouli, Sumatran styrax, South American tolu balsam
Scent Profile:
The first impression is radiant and complex. A shimmer of Calabrian bergamot glows with freshness—its citrus peel not merely tart, but sunlit, gently floral, and honeyed. Unlike its Sicilian cousin, Calabrian bergamot is prized for its sweeter, softer top note and its refined balance between citrus zest and green bitterness. This effervescence is quickly softened by the delicate bloom of Tunisian neroli, whose bitter orange blossoms, steam-distilled at their most aromatic peak, lend an ethereal, green-white freshness that whispers of orange groves in bloom.
Then comes a wave of exotic intrigue: Indian kewda unfolds like a veil of vaporous sweetness, lush and rosy-fruity, reminiscent of both magnolia and pandan leaf. Indigenous to Odisha, India, kewda is rarely used in Western perfumery, yet its distinctive aroma adds an otherworldly, almost surreal dimension. Indian saffron follows—precious, golden, and dry—its threads harvested from Kashmir fields, bringing not only a subtle metallic spice but a warm, leathery glow that envelops the senses. Against this, Indian champaca blooms richly—a tropical magnolia with a narcotic blend of banana, tea leaf, and creamy peach, heady and spiritual. It carries the memory of temple offerings and garlands, grounding the opening in an unmistakably Indian soul.
As the top fades into the heart, the fragrance becomes even more opulent and floral-spiced. Moroccan orange blossom absolute pulses at the center—creamy, honeyed, indolic—its warmth amplified by Indian tuberose absolute, which pours out in lush, fleshy waves, deeply narcotic, almost carnal in its sweetness. Indian jasmine absolute, handpicked at dawn, lends a green, animalic sharpness that balances tuberose’s syrupy pull. Then emerges Turkish rose attar—deep red and dewy, distilled with sandalwood in traditional copper stills. It exudes a round, full-bodied richness, far more sensual than powdery, merging the floral opulence with the resinous base to come.
Spices swirl next in hypnotic complexity: Ceylon cardamom, cool and aromatic, mingles with Ceylon cinnamon, which is softer and subtler than cassia cinnamon, bringing a warm, powdery sweetness. Jamaican nutmeg adds a dry, woody spice with a hint of sweetness, while Indian carnation brings clove-like pungency wrapped in floral warmth. The true bite arrives from Zanzibar clove bud oil, dark and almost medicinal, spiked with eugenol, a natural constituent of clove, used here to intensify the spicy warmth and prolong its diffusion. Malabar black pepper pricks the senses—fiery, bright, and citrusy—while Russian coriander seed adds a dry, nutty tone with a slightly herbal, lemony sheen. Finally, Florentine orris root, aged and powdered, brings a refined, buttery iris softness. Powdery yet earthy, it lifts the heart into a regal elegance.
The base of Empress of India is an opulent descent into pure sensuality. The creamy, sacred richness of Mysore sandalwood dominates—true Mysore, now nearly extinct in modern perfumery, was milky, sweet, and slightly smoky, grounding the entire composition in serenity and depth. East Indian vetiver—less earthy and more smoky than Haitian varieties—adds a shadowed, green dryness, its roots dug from Indian soil, smelling of ancient temples and sun-warmed earth. Indian patchouli, aged in dark barrels, emits its dusky, balsamic richness—damp earth, dried herbs, a faint trace of chocolate and leather.
Resins and balms rise like incense smoke: Yemeni opoponax (sweet myrrh) glows with a molasses-like warmth, while Maltese labdanum, sticky and ambered, wraps the drydown in a leathery, almost feral intensity. Siam benzoin, vanillic and resinous, and South American tolu balsam, rich and cinnamon-like, add a glowing warmth, intensified by ambergris (and its synthetic twin, ambreine), which lends marine-skin depth and diffusion, binding the blend together with an almost translucent warmth.
Animalic undertones emerge from Canadian castoreum, which adds a hint of leather and smoke, and Abyssinian civet, once prized for its ability to give perfumes a warm-breath sensuality, here used sparingly to deepen the warmth. These are smoothed by the creamy sweetness of Bourbon vanilla, the pure, resinous warmth of vanillin, and the nutty, almond-vanilla glow of Venezuelan tonka bean, enhanced with coumarin, the naturally occurring compound that adds haylike softness and warmth.
Synthetic materials—benzyl salicylate, used to blend and lift florals, and vanillin, which enhances the natural vanilla—provide consistency and radiance, extending the perfume's wear and unifying the multitude of raw materials into a single glowing veil. Styrax from Sumatra finishes the drydown with leathery-balsamic softness, rounding out a base that is both noble and deeply human.
Wearing Empress of India is like traversing a caravan trail through spice markets and flower gardens, passing incense-filled shrines and sun-drenched palaces. It is perfume not merely as adornment, but as storytelling: an imperial dream, steeped in warmth, ritual, and the poetic grandeur of the East—an olfactory homage to the richness of India, as imagined through the romantic lens of 1920s Western perfumery.
The New Yorker - Volume 11 - Page 47, 1935:
"Matchabelli : The best still is Duchess of York (lilac), but Grace Moore (tantalizing and spicy), Princess Norina, and Empress of India (very exotic and Oriental) are in great demand."
Bottles:
.png)
Fate of the Fragrance:
Launched in 1929, Empress of India by Prince Matchabelli arrived at the close of the Roaring Twenties, a period marked by bold cultural shifts, internationalism, and a deep fascination with exotic lands—particularly the romanticized "Orient." This perfume, classified as a spicy oriental, was steeped in the allure of faraway places and named as a tribute to Queen Victoria, who held the title Empress of India during the height of British imperialism. The name itself evoked grandeur, pageantry, and opulence, conjuring visions of silk-clad royalty, sun-drenched palaces, and perfumed air rich with spices and sacred woods.
The fragrance was one of Prince Matchabelli’s most opulent offerings, described at the time as “heavy, warm, and spicy,” resting on a rich base of Mysore sandalwood. It was deeply evocative of the East as imagined through Western eyes—layered with Indian jasmine, champaca, patchouli, and vetiver, laced with cardamom, clove, nutmeg, and cinnamon. Its scent composition mirrored the complexity of the era’s fascination with the Orient: part fantasy, part admiration, and wholly luxurious.
Empress of India remained in production until 1953, when changing tastes began to shift away from the heavy orientals of the 1930s and ‘40s in favor of fresher, cleaner fragrances suited to the post-war optimism and modernity of the 1950s. Though it was eventually discontinued, Empress of India remains a significant example of interwar perfumery: bold, romantic, and intricately layered—a true testament to Prince Matchabelli’s gift for storytelling through scent.
No comments:
Post a Comment