Scentzilla!

One of the vintage scents I’ve been most pleased with finding is a little curiosity named Debutante de Versailles, distributed by the Daggett & Ramsdell company. The picture is blurry, unfortunately, but it turned out difficult to get that shiny gold metallic spray canister to photograph at all.

The front bears the following text:

In the design, a little banner reading “DEBUTANTE” hangs over a crest that reads “NOBLESSE OBLIGE.”
Then it lists
“Debutante
de
Versailles
EAU DE TOILETTE
PERFUMIZER
JEAN DESPREZ“

The bottom has a wee little circle labeled with the company’s name, and the name of the scent, and the size of the cannister (one ounce.)

Daggett & Ramsdell first began operations in 1890, and seem to be a company that mostly focused on skin care products, especially their cold creams and powders. They began branding their Debutante products quite early in their operations, amongst them a perfumed face powder, and later a whole package of skin care items they called “The Debutante Kit” by 1930. Aditionally, they manufactured scented waters and colognes, including items such as Violette Rico, a headache cologne, Vivatone, Arabesque, and Ruffles.

They also distributed scents through, I swear to God, the Fuller Brush company, which came as a surprise to me. I knew that the Fuller Brush salesmen would offer all sorts of quirky items in addition to cleaners and brushes, but I wouldn’t have imagined perfume. Now that I think about it, that makes sense, given the era. Women at the time had a place, and that place was at home. The car would be gone with a husband at work, and they’d have had little ability to go anywhere, nor little of thier own money to spend. I bet it was a real treat for those ladies to order a bit of bottled luxury for themselves from the Fuller Brush man, rather than hoping and waiting on their husbands or fathers to give them a present of perfume. I’m guessing Debutante Magic Moment was at least one of the Daggett & Ramsdell made fragrances for Fuller Brush.

I don’t know anything about the how or why Jean Desprez came to lend his talents or name to Daggett & Ramsdell. I don’t even know what year this scent was created. It’s a mystery. Did it presage his Bal a Versailles? Did it follow up on it after Bal, with this company trying to cash in on his name? I don’t know. The package doesn’t offer too many hints, and the clues offered by the smell of the scent could be used to construct a case for either side of that point in time.

Debutante de Versailles’ liquid sprays out as a dark ambery brown color. I instantly notice it’s soft powdered rose. It’s reminiscent in a way of Habanita’s powdered rose (minus leather). Some days I seem to notice a bit of fruitiness in the scent, and then it smells almost like there’s Tresor as its top. But it’s a Rorschach fruit: It’s peachy; No wait, it’s berried; Oh, maybe it’s pear; Nope, never mind, it’s berries and peach; GAH, I don’t know, it’s just juicy; I’m not going to be graded on this test am I? Aldehydes of some sort likely were used, I just can’t define exactly what I think they smell like. At the base of Debutante de Versailles are elements also found in Bal a Versailles. Warm woods, a teensy weensy bit of amber, and musk. I find there’s even a light vanillic note softening the whole dry down. It truly is lovely, though nothing that I find as astonishing as Bal.

I’m pleased when I do wear it, but I catch myself being awfully precious about using it. I have this strange feeling like everytime I spray (slowly emptying the bottle) that little by little I’m unwriting some piece of history. And yet, it’s going to be a meaningless piece of art unless I interact with it and experience it. It’s a conundrum, but one I am glad to have.

Our windstorm blew in snow (fun) and then freezing rain (not so fun.) The electricity repeatedly flickered and shut down, and each time popped on again within minutes, luckily enough. So we were able to run around outside playing in the snow knowing that we could always retreat to the comfort of a warm electrically heated house. We so rarely get snow here in the Portland area that it was a real treat.

I’m going to put off talking about S-Perfume Lust until later, because this windy weekend I have been almost exclusively wearing Jean Desprez’s Bal a Versailles. It’s the subject of a post made a little while back at Perfume-Smellin’ Things, and that post reminded me just how much I love wearing it. It may not have the cool cache that some of the more modern fragrances seem to carry, but Bal a Versailles will forever be chic.

Desprez is said to have used more than 300 ingredients to construct this scent, which sounds like a “hey, let’s just throw stuff at a wall and see what sticks” apporach to perfumery, but the result is a steady, smooth masterpiece. The construct is formal, but never stiff or unfriendly. It gilds the senses in its golden glow, and indulges the nose with a refined vision of earthly delights.

My favorite aspect of Bal a Versailles is its circular quality. As the fragrance develops, notes seem to fade off, only to rise again. To experience it is to open a travel brochure of smells. Roses, orange, orange blossom, and jasmine fill my nostrils with the first spray. Then warm woods with soft balsalmic spices push forward into vanilla and patchouli . Broad notations of amber and incense, musk and more musk, unfold. And then we start all over again, surreally spiraling amongst the flowers and trees, riding waves of indoles and ketones. It is sexy, but not vulgar; Rich, but not gaudy.

So many of the newer oriental fragrances seem to be playing in an AM station monotone.Yet here is old Bal a Versailles, an oldie from 1962, playing in Dolby Digital surround sound. But it never overwhelms, and never blasts too loud. This scent endures as a classic, yet it is timeless. I don’t feel like I’m wearing an antique when I don my eau de toilette. In fact, I feel hipper and certainly more sensual wearing Bal a Versailles than I did when I was testing out, say, the newer Calvin Klein Euphoria. Catching lucky stray whiffs of my own sillage every now and then only adds to the sensation of glamor.

Bal a Versailles is available in many concentrations, and you can’t go wrong choosing it in any form, depending on preference and budget.

Top image of Bal a Versailles by Janine Wesselmann, from dcrpublishing.com. Second image of Lulu by Richard Ely.