Jungle Flower by Prince Matchabelli c1930

Jungle Flower by Prince Matchabelli, launched in 1930, was a bold and evocative creation that emerged during a time when Western culture was captivated by the mystery and allure of untamed nature and faraway lands. The name itself—Jungle Flower—was likely chosen for its exotic connotation and its ability to stir the imagination. The phrase evokes the image of a vivid bloom growing wild in a lush, tropical forest, untamed and radiant. The name implies sensuality, warmth, mystery, and vibrant color—all qualities that would have appealed to women in search of something unique and expressive. In an era marked by both sophistication and curiosity for the unknown, Jungle Flower promised something daring yet feminine.

The early 1930s were a period of transition in fashion and culture. The opulence of the 1920s was beginning to yield to the sobering realities of the Great Depression, but glamour had not vanished—if anything, it adapted. Hollywood was rising as a style influence, and women still sought ways to express elegance and fantasy, especially through fragrance. Perfumes like Jungle Flower captured a desire for escapism. To wear a scent with such an evocative name suggested a longing for something untamed, a fantasy of the tropics, or perhaps a romanticized vision of adventure.

Classified as a heady floral, Jungle Flower was described as "the scent of rare originality" and "a haunting scent of irresistible appeal." It notably highlighted hyacinth—a lush, intoxicating floral note with a green, dewy sweetness. Natural hyacinth oil is difficult to extract through conventional means, so in perfumery, its distinctive scent is often recreated using a blend of natural isolates and synthetic aroma molecules. In the 1930s, advances in perfumery chemistry made it possible to approximate the rich, velvety nuance of hyacinth through synthetic compounds like hydroxycitronellal and phenylethyl alcohol. These ingredients could enhance the green, honeyed, and slightly aquatic facets of the flower, delivering a vivid and lasting impression.

When compared to other fragrances of the period, Jungle Flower stood out for its theme. While many perfumes of the early 20th century drew from classical European inspirations—garden florals, romantic musks, and aldehydic blends—Jungle Flower leaned into an exotic, botanical fantasy. It aligned with a growing trend of perfumes that explored tropical or foreign locales, similar in spirit to Coty's Emeraude or Guerlain's Mitsouko, but with a more floral-centric identity.

For the women of the 1930s, Jungle Flower offered an aromatic passport—a way to transport themselves beyond the confines of city streets or economic hardship and into a lush, vivid dreamscape of tropical elegance. It was a fragrance that embodied the spirit of independence and allure, and one that matched the cinematic glamour and quiet resilience of its time.

In the October 1930 issue of Theatre Magazine (Volume 52), readers were introduced to three new perfumes by Prince Matchabelli, each designed to lend a touch of exotic, tropical enchantment to the crisp chill of autumn evenings. These perfumes were not merely scents—they were aromatic narratives, offering escapism, glamour, and mood-altering allure through the artistry of fragrance.

The first, Queen of Babylon, was described as “just a bit wicked”—a tantalizing comment that hinted at sensual depth and intrigue. This fragrance seemed crafted for contrast: its seductive character was intended to offset the innocence of a "sweet" frock, suggesting it was meant for women who enjoyed playing with dualities—gentle on the outside, but with a mysterious edge beneath. Babylon, spicy and exotic, leaned into warm resins, spices, and animalic notes, with an undercurrent of incense and amber, befitting its ancient and storied namesake.

Queen of the Nile, in contrast, was more overtly dramatic in both scent and presentation. Described as “spicy” and housed in an amber glass bottle shaped like a pyramid, it embodied the theatrical and historic themes that Prince Matchabelli frequently embraced. The perfume featured an oriental-spicy blend, heavy with cloves, cinnamon, and patchouli, evoking the imagined opulence and mystique of Cleopatra’s court. The pyramid flacon gave it visual impact and a clear thematic tie to the perfume’s name, making it a piece of decorative art as much as a fragrance.

Jungle Flower, however, was the reviewer’s favorite among the trio. It was praised for having “captured precisely the luscious scent of hyacinths”—a feat of olfactory interpretation in an era when true hyacinth extraction was nearly impossible. This lush, heady floral scent, likely built with synthetics such as hydroxycitronellal and phenylethyl alcohol, would have conveyed a rich green and dewy sweetness, suggestive of tropical vegetation and exotic blooms. Its evocative name and vivid floralcy positioned it as a perfume of irresistible appeal—wild, romantic, and a perfect antidote to autumn's encroaching austerity.

Together, these three perfumes from Prince Matchabelli presented a sensory escape, each with its own distinct story and mood: the seductive mystery of Queen of Babylon, the regal drama of Queen of the Nile, and the floral fantasy of Jungle Flower. Their arrival in 1930 reflects Matchabelli’s continuing commitment to both storytelling and elegance in perfumery, and his keen awareness of the emotional transport perfume could offer.

Fragrance Composition:

So what does it smell like? Jungle Flower by Prince Matchabelli is classified as a heady floral fragrance for women and was described as "the scent of rare originality. A haunting scent of irresistible appeal." and "has captured the luscious scent of hyacinth."

• Top notes: Calabrian bergamot oil, Paraguayan petitgrain, Sicilian neroli bigarade, amyl valerianate, benzyl propionate, styrolene acetate, hyacinth, Alpine lily of the valley, Moroccan cassie
• Middle notes: Tuscan violet, ionone, Indian tuberose absolute, Bulgarian rose otto, rhodinol, French heliotrope absolute, Grasse gardenia, Egyptian jasmine absolute, terpineol, cinnamic alcohol, phenylacetaldehyde, hydroxycitronellal, phenylethyl alcohol,  hyacinthin, Tunisian orange blossom
• Base notes: Abyssinian civet, Mysore sandalwood, Venezuelan tonka bean, coumarin, ambergris, Tyrolean oakmoss, Tonkin musk, Madagascar vanilla, Siam benzoin

Scent Profile:

Jungle Flower by Prince Matchabelli, launched in 1930, is a heady floral composition steeped in exoticism and botanical poetry—a fragrance crafted to summon both the lushness of a tropical garden and the elegance of European haute perfumery. It was described as a "scent of rare originality" and "a haunting scent of irresistible appeal," with particular praise for its astonishingly lifelike portrayal of hyacinth. Each ingredient in Jungle Flower weaves together an evocative tale of place, mood, and botanical beauty, enveloping the wearer in a verdant floral dreamscape both natural and enhanced by the skilled hand of the perfumer.

The opening is radiant and green, with an effervescent burst of Calabrian bergamot oil, cold-pressed from the rind of citrus fruits grown along Italy’s Ionian coast. Calabrian bergamot is prized for its refined bitterness and subtle floral undertone—softer and more nuanced than varieties from other regions. This sparkling top note is joined by Paraguayan petitgrain, distilled from the leaves and twigs of the bitter orange tree. It contributes a sharp, herbaceous brightness that contrasts with the sweetness of Sicilian neroli bigarade, the distilled blossom from bitter orange, bringing honeyed, airy citrus notes and a touch of soft white floralcy.

At this point, the perfumer introduces a clever balance between natural materials and synthetics. Amyl valerianate and benzyl propionate, two fruity esters, lend a juicy, banana-like ripeness and subtle pear-like sweetness, enhancing the illusion of tropical fruits hidden in the jungle. Styrolene acetate, a sweet, jasmine-like compound, and phenylacetaldehyde, with its green-hyacinth nuance, begin to usher in the central floral theme.

Here we encounter the core of Jungle Flower: the vivid and almost narcotic essence of hyacinth, its cool, moist, green sweetness echoing freshly crushed petals after a spring rain. Real hyacinth cannot be extracted naturally; instead, its aroma must be painstakingly recreated from molecules like phenylacetaldehyde, hydroxycitronellal, and hyacinthin. Together, they create a stunningly accurate portrait—green, floral, and just slightly metallic—with a piercing clarity that lingers and haunts. Supporting this are Alpine lily of the valley, delicate and bell-toned in scent, and the golden powder of Moroccan cassie, a mimosa-like floral with hints of violet and honey.

The heart is a riot of floral opulence: Tuscan violet delivers powdery sweetness with subtle iononic coolness, further lifted by methyl ionone, the violet-scented aroma molecule that smooths the floral curve with a dreamlike softness. Then comes a chorus of heady, creamy florals—Indian tuberose absolute, Grasse gardenia, and Egyptian jasmine absolute—rich, indolic, and sensuous. Each is an icon of white floral grandeur. Tuberose from India is especially narcotic and buttery, while gardenia from Grasse blends milky sweetness with the faintest touch of mushroom-like earthiness. Jasmine from Egypt, sun-drenched and deeply narcotic, ties it all together with a velvety warmth.

Bulgarian rose otto adds its honeyed rosiness, complemented by rhodinol, an aroma chemical that isolates the most delicate, dewy facets of rose and geranium. The heart is then wrapped in gentle powderiness from French heliotrope absolute, soft and almond-like, as well as the brightness of Tunisian orange blossom, which carries the sun-kissed sparkle of the Mediterranean. A final array of aroma materials—cinnamic alcohol, terpineol, and phenylethyl alcohol—reinforce the complexity, contributing notes of spiced bark, lilac-like freshness, and tea rose.

The drydown is where Jungle Flower reveals its oriental soul. Mysore sandalwood, now virtually extinct in perfumery due to overharvesting, was once known for its buttery, milky, resinous smoothness with creamy incense undertones—nothing like the sharpness of today’s synthetics. This sacred Indian wood is joined by Abyssinian civet, lending a faintly animalic, musky warmth that was once considered essential to traditional French perfumery. Tonkin musk, similarly, adds soft sensuality, rounding out the base with a skin-like finish.

Venezuelan tonka bean brings in the smell of freshly cut hay, vanilla, and almond, thanks to its high coumarin content—a molecule that sweetens and smooths the composition. Madagascar vanilla, dark and resinous, blends beautifully with Siam benzoin and South American tolu balsam, both of which give amber, resin, and tobacco-leather nuances. Ambergris, the treasure of the sea, lends salt, warmth, and a strange marine-animalic mystery. A finishing green touch of Tyrolean oakmoss, rich and foresty, grounds the composition with the smell of damp moss and bark.

In the end, Jungle Flower is no shy bouquet. It is a theatrical, intoxicating floral tapestry—lush, spiced, slightly wild, and deeply feminine. Its structure, built on an interplay of real botanicals and skilled synthetic mimicry, captures the emotional essence of its name: the pulse of hidden blooms in a jungle at twilight, heady with life and mystery.

Bottle:

Fate of the Fragrance:

Jungle Flower, launched by Prince Matchabelli in 1929, arrived at the end of a vibrant decade, a period marked by the glamour and escapism of the Jazz Age. As women shed the formal constraints of Victorian dress and embraced a freer silhouette, their fragrances, too, began to reflect a more daring, worldly sense of self. Jungle Flower was described as “a haunting scent of irresistible appeal,” and was noted for its “rare originality.” It was positioned as a bold, exotic floral—sweeping in both intensity and inspiration—anchored by the vivid scent of hyacinth. The name itself evoked an untamed, tropical elegance, something lush and luminous growing in the dense canopy of faraway lands.

The year 1929 marked not only the launch of Jungle Flower, but also the moment the world would soon tumble into the Great Depression. Yet even as economic hardship loomed, fragrances like Jungle Flower offered a transportive escape. Prince Matchabelli's ability to imbue his perfumes with a strong emotional narrative made them especially resonant. The scent was likely composed with a heady mix of real and synthetic floral materials: fresh hyacinth notes supported by tuberose, orange blossom, violet, heliotrope, and jasmine. Soft aldehydes or floral aroma molecules like phenylacetaldehyde and hydroxycitronellal would have added vibrancy and lift to the composition.

Though the exact date of discontinuation is unclear, Jungle Flower was still being sold as late as 1948, nearly two decades after its release. This longevity speaks to its enduring appeal and the powerful imagery it conveyed. For post-war women stepping back into peacetime normalcy, Jungle Flower may have offered both nostalgia and reassurance—a connection to a more romantic past, and an exotic vision of femininity that transcended the utilitarian years of wartime. It is a fragrance remembered for its originality and allure, a lingering blossom from the wilder dreams of the 1920s.