Potpourri by Prince Matchabelli (1940)

In 1940, Prince Matchabelli introduced a fragrance that marked a subtle yet notable departure from its traditionally aristocratic image. Named Potpourri, this perfume ventured into new olfactory territory. Rather than the refined florals or stately aldehydic compositions typically associated with the house, Potpourri conjured something more rustic and warm—an aromatic homage to early American domestic life. The decision to name a perfume Potpourri may have seemed curious at first, but within the cultural and historical context of the time, it was a shrewd and evocative choice.

The word “potpourri” comes from French, derived from the older Spanish olla podrida, meaning “rotten pot” or “stew.” In French usage, however, pot-pourri came to describe a blend of dried, scented plant materials—typically petals, herbs, and spices—placed in bowls or sachets to perfume the air. Pronounced as “poe-poo-REE,” the word evokes images of cozy parlors, mahogany furniture, linen cupboards, and the comforting scent of a house carefully tended. It brings forth a sensory blend of old roses, warm spices, faded lavender sachets, and the dried remnants of a summer garden. The emotional tone is one of nostalgia, warmth, and a cultivated domestic femininity.

The scent itself, classified as a spicy floral oriental, mirrored this imagery. Descriptions of Potpourri highlight “roses, shy dark violets, and spice,” followed by a warm, woodsy dry down. It was said to contain lavender, verbena, pinks (dianthus), stocks, and mignonette—ingredients that evoke the very materials women once dried for sachets and stored among fine linens. The perfume was a bottled version of an 18th-century pastime, made modern for the women of 1940.

The early 1940s was a time of great cultural transition. The world stood at the threshold of the Second World War. In the United States, while the country had not yet officially entered the war, the national mood was increasingly reflective and patriotic. In this climate, there was a renewed fascination with America's Colonial heritage. A romanticized vision of early American life—often centered around domestic rituals, handcrafted furnishings, and natural materials—permeated fashion, home decor, and popular culture. This movement manifested in reproduction maple furniture, handwoven textiles, hand-blown glass, and, naturally, perfumes.

Perfume houses were quick to respond to this cultural shift. Potpourri by Prince Matchabelli was part of a larger trend that included such notable competitors as Early American Old Spice for women, launched by Shulton in 1937. Shulton’s women’s version of Old Spice was directly inspired by the potpourri used by founder William Lightfoot Shultz’s mother, further reinforcing the nostalgic, domestic theme. Both Old Spice and Potpourri sought to blend early American charm with modern fragrance craftsmanship, appealing to the patriotism and romantic sensibilities of women during this time.

Another example was Old South Toiletries of Batavia, Illinois—a subsidiary of Campana Sales—which in 1940 launched a full line of fragrances and toiletries inspired by the plantations of Colonial Williamsburg. Their marketing, summed up in the tagline “Romance...Southern Style,” reinforced the idea that perfume could be both historically evocative and sensually appealing.

In this context, Potpourri was both timely and trend-aware. Though it was not unique in drawing from Colonial themes, its execution—balancing florals with spice, nostalgia with elegance—gave it a distinct identity. It offered women a scent that wasn’t overtly glamorous or exotic, but one that connected to an idealized version of American femininity—rooted in hearth, heritage, and home.

For women of the 1940s, a fragrance called Potpourri would have resonated deeply. It spoke to traditions, to quiet pride in domestic life, and to the gentle strength of American womanhood. It was a reminder, perhaps, of simpler times in a world that was becoming increasingly uncertain.

Fragrance Composition:

So what does it smell like? Potpourri by Prince Matchabelli is classified as a spicy floral oriental fragrance for women. It was described as a "Fragrance of roses, shy dark violets and spice." It was a spicy floral blend with a woodsy dry down.

• Top notes: aldehydes, Calabrian bergamot, Amalfi lemon, Seville orange, Dutch hyacinth, Zanzibar cloves, West Indian nutmeg and allspice, Ceylon cardamom, Szechuan cinnamon, Hungarian clary sage
• Middle notes: Russian coriander, Jamaican pimento berry, Bourbon geranium, Grasse jasmine, Provencal lavender, English stock, mignonette, spring herbs, Bulgarian rose otto, Indian carnation, Manila ylang ylang, Swiss lilac, lilacine, Grasse heliotrope, heliotropin, Tuscan violet, ionone, Florentine orris root
• Base notes: Haitian vetiver, Singapore patchouli, Mysore sandalwood, Virginian cedar, ambergris, Tibetan musk, Mexican vanilla, vanillin, Siam benzoin, Venezuelan tonka bean, coumarin, Omani frankincense

 

Scent Profile:

Smelling Potpourri by Prince Matchabelli is like opening an old cedarwood armoire lined with embroidered linens, still redolent with sachets of dried blooms and spice. This fragrance, complex and evocative, unfolds as a journey—each note revealing a distinct landscape, memory, or mood. Though classified as a spicy floral oriental, its true nature is more a rich tapestry, hand-stitched with warmth, nostalgia, and elegance.

The perfume opens with a brilliant sparkle of aldehydes, those effervescent molecules that add a champagne-like fizz. Here, the aldehydes are likely C10 (decanal) and C11 (undecylenic aldehyde)—the kind that evoke freshly laundered linens and starched cotton, lending the fragrance a crisp, airy lift that mimics clean air and bright light. They form a contrast to what follows—a quicksilver transition into citrus, not sharp, but rounded and sun-warmed.

The Calabrian bergamot, prized for its smooth bitterness and green-floral facets, melds with the sweet zest of Amalfi lemon, whose Mediterranean sweetness is softer than that of other lemons, kissed by sea breezes. Seville orange, with its distinctly bitter and aromatic peel, contributes an almost marmalade-like depth—citrusy but not playful, more like a preserved orange in spiced syrup.

A sudden rush of Dutch hyacinth introduces a cool, dewy floral note, a floral green sharpness that feels springlike, gently waxy and narcotic. Then, a wave of spice—dark, glimmering, exotic—rises. Zanzibar cloves, rich in eugenol, are potent and warm with a sweet-medicinal intensity. West Indian nutmeg and allspice lend a nutty, warm piquancy—nutmeg’s dusty sweetness beautifully offset by the slightly peppery, resinous complexity of allspice. Ceylon cardamom, green and camphoraceous, adds a mentholated breath of freshness, while Szechuan cinnamon (warmer and more delicate than cassia) curls through the air with a softly sweet spice like the scent of sun-warmed wood bark. Finally, Hungarian clary sage, musky and herbaceous, introduces a bracing greenness tinged with an almost leathery undertone—foreshadowing the richness to come.

As the top brightens and fades, the heart of Potpourri is a lush, intricately woven garden. At its center, a duet of floral and spice unfurls: Russian coriander, clean yet citrusy, lends aromatic lift to the enveloping warmth of Jamaican pimento berry, which deepens the existing spice accord with its peppery, clove-like bite.

Then come the florals, layered like petals pressed between the pages of a diary. Bourbon geranium, cultivated in Réunion Island, has a lemon-rosy brightness that is simultaneously green and velvety, counterpointed by the Grasse jasmine, narcotic and sweet, its solar richness intensified by the nearby Provencal lavender—a fresh yet dry floral note with a whisper of clean herbal dust. English stock and mignonette provide a nostalgic, old-world charm—both soft florals, powdery, pastel-like, conjuring springtime window boxes.

The spring herbs, likely including thyme, rosemary, and parsley, ground the composition with freshness and garden realism. Into this bouquet steps the regal Bulgarian rose otto—steam-distilled from the famed Rose Valley, prized for its pure, honeyed depth—adding warmth and sweetness, but with an elegant restraint. Indian carnation, spicy and clove-laced, enriches this warmth with a dusky petal-spice texture. The Manila ylang ylang, rich and banana-like, saturates the heart with creamy, slightly fruity opulence.

Delicate and dreamlike, Swiss lilac is joined by lilacine, a synthetic note that captures the ephemeral green-floral scent of lilac after a rain—airy, slightly aqueous, and refreshing. Grasse heliotrope offers powdery almond facets, its soft floral haze intensified by heliotropin (piperonal), a vanillic synthetic that lends the perfume an edible, gentle sweetness reminiscent of cherry pie or soft marzipan. Tuscan violet, cool and shy, folds in with ionone, a synthetic that enhances violet’s characteristic powdery-woody iris facet—deepening the bouquet into something shadowed and sensual. Then, the ghostly beauty of Florentine orris root rises: buttery, powdery, and soft, it anchors the entire floral heart in velvety earthiness.

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As Potpourri dries down, its base is where the full oriental character comes into bloom. The earthiness of Haitian vetiver—smoky, rooty, and damp—is softened by Singapore patchouli, which adds richness, a touch of damp wood and herbal leather. These are balanced by the creamy, golden tone of Mysore sandalwood, a now-rare treasure with its famously warm, soft, almost milky texture. Virginian cedar offers a sharp dry woodiness, pencil-shaving clean and slightly peppery.

Into this earthy base drift more resinous and animalic tones: ambergris, marine and musky, softens everything with a skin-like, diffusive glow. Tibetan musk (almost certainly a musk substitute), adds sensuality—warm, slightly powdery, and intimate. Mexican vanilla, lush and dark, combines with vanillin, its synthetic cousin, to add sweetness and creamy depth. Where vanilla is boozy and dense, vanillin offers focus and lift. Siam benzoin, with its balsamic, incense-like warmth, and Venezuelan tonka bean, rich in coumarin, lend a warm tobacco-vanilla facet that is comforting and rich.

Finally, the sacred resin Omani frankincense emerges—citrusy, smoky, and silvery—like a ribbon of ancient incense winding through the dry woods and warm spices, tying the composition to an ancient sense of sacred domestic ritual.

Potpourri is not merely a fragrance—it is a reverie in scent. Its blend of botanicals, spices, resins, and expertly placed synthetics conjures a memory of the past without sentimentality. It is grounded, richly feminine, and deeply nostalgic—like finding a sachet hidden inside a grandmother’s hope chest, still fragrant after decades. Each ingredient is not just a note, but a character: the clove-spiked orange, the shy violet, the sun-soaked jasmine, the incense smoke trailing through cedarwood halls. Together, they form a composition that is less a perfume than a sensory diary—a perfumed love letter to tradition, womanhood, and the sensual rituals of home.

Fashions of the Hour, 1940:

"The exotic scent of Prince Matchabelli's Potpourri cologne brings to mind a medley of Oriental splendor and veiled mystery. A lasting fragrance of spices and flowers."

Fate of the Fragrance:

Launched in the early 1940s, Potpourri by Prince Matchabelli arrived during a period of shifting cultural values and heightened national sentiment. Its release was timely—introducing a fragrance that reflected the romanticized Colonial past just as the world was entering a period of conflict and uncertainty. Potpourri offered American women a comforting, familiar escape, evoking the scent of hand-gathered herbs and florals, reminiscent of simpler times. With its blend of rose, violet, and warm spices, it stood apart from more traditionally glamorous or urbane perfumes of the era, favoring instead a deeply domestic, heritage-inspired profile. It was elegant without being ostentatious, refined but grounded in an almost folkloric sentimentality.

The perfume continued to enjoy popularity throughout the 1950s and into the 1960s, a period during which traditional florals and powdery fragrances remained fashionable. However, by the late 1960s, the cultural landscape was rapidly evolving. Youth-driven trends were reshaping the fragrance industry, favoring bold, unisex, or green chypres and abstract florals that reflected the new social movements, sexual liberation, and changing ideals of femininity. The comforting, Colonial charm of Potpourri, once a desirable trait, began to seem old-fashioned to a new generation of fragrance consumers.

By 1970, Prince Matchabelli made the decision to discontinue Potpourri. After nearly three decades in production, it quietly disappeared from store shelves. Its retirement marked the end of an era—a time when perfumes drew inspiration from early American traditions and domestic rituals. Today, Potpourri remains a nostalgic artifact of mid-20th-century perfumery, remembered for its richly spiced floral character and for capturing the essence of a certain American ideal: one rooted in memory, warmth, and the enduring scent of a linen shelf perfumed by hand.