Princess Marie by Prince Matchabelli was launched in 1933 as a tender tribute to a vanished world and a lost princess—Grand Duchess Maria Nikolaevna of Russia, one of the four daughters of Tsar Nicholas II, born in 1899 and executed in 1918 during the Russian Revolution. The name “Princess Marie” would have been immediately evocative to those familiar with the tragic story of the Romanovs, then only fifteen years past their downfall. It reflected not only nostalgia for imperial splendor, but also a personal connection: Prince Georges V. Matchabelli himself was a Georgian nobleman and former ambassador to Italy for the Imperial Russian court. He was part of that aristocratic diaspora who carried the memory of the Romanovs with them into exile. Naming a perfume Princess Marie was both a poetic memorial and a romantic gesture—an embodiment of innocence, grace, and the poignant glamour of a fallen dynasty.
To women in 1933, Princess Marie would have represented both escapism and refinement. America was in the depths of the Great Depression, and romantic imagery from Old Europe offered a kind of emotional refuge. The name "Princess Marie" evoked youthful charm, courtly elegance, and a wistful nobility. It wasn’t simply a perfume—it was a story, wrapped in memories and royal lace. The scent itself was described as “sweet, spicy, with a whiff of carnation,” and also as “witty, teasing, aloof—the freshness after rainfall,” suggesting an airy floral spiced with character, not cloying but playful, elusive, and haunting. A bouquet of pinks—likely referring to dianthus or carnations—was at its heart, giving it a piquant, peppery lift.
In terms of perfumery trends, Princess Marie fit seamlessly into a growing interest in florals with personality. Where many earlier florals were soft, powdery, and overtly romantic, the 1930s introduced spicier, more modern interpretations. This perfume’s peppery carnation, likely accented with clove or eugenol, set it apart from more demure offerings. The description of it as a “sweet type, but with something more elusive and haunting about it” suggests subtle aldehydes or delicate synthetics like heliotropin or ionones to enhance the natural florals.
Packaged exclusively in Matchabelli’s iconic crown bottles—further reinforcing its regal inspiration—Princess Marie captured the era’s fascination with nobility, nostalgia, and femininity that was both lighthearted and layered with deeper emotion. It was a fragrance that lingered in memory, as much for its scent as for its story.
Fragrance Composition:
So what does it smell like? Princess Marie by Prince Matchabelli is classified as a sweet, spicy floral fragrance for women. Described as "sweet, spicy, with a whiff of carnation" and "witty, teasing, aloof, the freshness after rainfall," a bouquet of pinks named for a very young Romanoff .
- Top notes: aldehyde C-10, aldehyde C-11, Calabrian bergamot, Amalfi lemon, Sicilian neroli, Algerian cassie absolute, anise, anisic aldehyde, Provencal hawthorn, cyclamen aldehyde
- Middle notes: Grasse mimosa absolute, Tunisian orange blossom absolute, Tuscan violet leaf absolute, French heliotrope absolute, heliotropin, Indian carnation absolute, eugenol, isoeugenol, Chinese ginger, Ceylon cinnamon leaf oil, Egyptian jasmine absolute, Bulgarian rose otto, Manila ylang ylang oil, Florentine orris butter
- Base notes: Mexican vanilla, vanillin, ambergris tincture, Mysore sandalwood, Tibetan musk tincture, Indian musk ambrette, musk ketone, Siam benzoin, Sumatran styrax, Java vetiver, Tyrolean oakmoss
Scent Profile:
To experience Princess Marie by Prince Matchabelli is to step into a world delicately poised between innocence and sophistication—an olfactory portrait of youthful royalty painted in soft hues of powder, pink blooms, and spice. The scent unfolds with an initial freshness that evokes the first breath of air after a spring rain, a moment suspended between sunlight and cloud. The aldehydes—C-10 (decanal) and C-11 (undecanal)—create that translucent shimmer at the top, lending a clean, lightly waxy brightness. These aroma chemicals, introduced early in 20th-century perfumery, act like light diffusers, enhancing the floralcy and lending a soft lift that floats across the senses.
Into this airy veil pour tart, sparkling drops of Calabrian bergamot and Amalfi lemon, citrus oils prized for their brightness and roundness. Their sun-drenched peels release a complex aroma—less sharp than other varieties, more refined, almost floral. The heart of the top notes is the sensual Sicilian neroli, distilled from orange blossoms and glowing with a luminous green-white floralcy. Its sweetness is softened by Algerian cassie absolute, powdery and mimosa-like, rich with honeyed warmth. A delicate trace of anise and anisic aldehyde adds a whimsical twist—cool, sweet, and faintly herbal, almost like violet sugar. Then comes Provencal hawthorn, with its almondy, haylike breath, and the dewy coolness of cyclamen aldehyde, a watery floral synthetic that mimics raindrops on petals, evoking that “freshness after rainfall” mentioned in the perfume’s original description.
As the top settles, the true heart blooms. This is a bouquet of rare refinement, led by Grasse mimosa absolute, softly powdery, glowing yellow, and reminiscent of silk. It’s joined by Tunisian orange blossom absolute, lush and creamy, and Tuscan violet leaf, offering a green, almost cucumber-like contrast. French heliotrope—a dusty, almond-sweet floral—wraps the florals in a soft haze, while heliotropin, its synthetic counterpart, enhances its vanillic facets and gives a candied nuance that’s both innocent and a touch nostalgic.
At the center, Indian carnation absolute bursts through—a vibrant and spicy bloom with clove-like warmth, bolstered by eugenol and isoeugenol, natural aroma chemicals that heighten the peppery facet. This spicy floral heat is echoed in the exotic threads of Chinese ginger, radiant and gingery-fresh, and Ceylon cinnamon leaf oil, which offers a softer, greener spice than bark oil. Intertwined are rich, silky blossoms: Egyptian jasmine, sultry and indolic; Bulgarian rose otto, prized for its vivid, honeyed petals; and Manila ylang ylang, fruitier and creamier than the others, tempering the spiciness with lush femininity. Grounding it all is Florentine orris butter, the rare and expensive iris root essence—violet-like, buttery, and cool, lending a powdery texture to the entire heart.
The base emerges like a shadow behind silk, warm and softly animalic. Mexican vanilla and vanillin create a rich, gourmand trail that’s less sugary than modern vanillas and more like a deep, baked warmth. Ambergris tincture adds a marine-skin sensuality, diffusive and faintly salty, while Tibetan musk tincture, Indian musk ambrette, and musk ketone (a then-cutting-edge synthetic) join together to give the drydown a silken warmth, at once clean and faintly suggestive. This musky trio bridges the floral and resinous with great finesse.
Anchoring the composition are the resins: Siam benzoin with its sweet-vanilla warmth, Sumatran styrax which adds leathery darkness, and Java vetiver, dry and earthy. A touch of Mysore sandalwood brings a creamy, polished woodiness—its unmatched richness adding elegance—and Tyrolean oakmoss, mossy and faintly bitter-green, provides the classical chypre touch, grounding this romantic floral in something ancient and profound.
Altogether, Princess Marie is a fragrance of soft contrasts—airy yet powdery, floral yet spiced, sweet yet reserved. It captures the image of a Romanov princess on the cusp of womanhood: wistful, elusive, her presence lingering like a dream. The perfume carries not only the spirit of a bygone age but also the artistry of an era when scent was storytelling in its most refined form.
Bottles:
Fate of the Fragrance:
Launched in 1933, Princess Marie by Prince Matchabelli was introduced during the twilight of the Art Deco era, a time when fragrance served not just as personal adornment, but as an extension of fantasy and identity. Dedicated to Grand Duchess Maria Nikolaevna of Russia—the youngest daughter of Tsar Nicholas II and a symbol of youthful elegance and tragic nobility—Princess Marie was designed to evoke charm, innocence, and romantic melancholy all at once. Its delicate, sweet-spicy floral composition echoed the femininity and sophistication women sought in the early 1930s, offering both modern freshness and nostalgic depth.
The perfume continued to be available well into the 1950s, with documented sales as late as 1959. Over those decades, it maintained a loyal following despite the rapidly shifting landscape of fashion and fragrance. Through World War II, post-war austerity, and into the optimistic consumerism of the 1950s, Princess Marie stood as a quiet, elegant counterpoint to louder trends. It offered refinement over novelty—an intimate scent of florals dusted with spice, softened by vanilla and woods, and carried by a gentle powderiness. Whether worn with the tailored suits of the 1940s or the full skirts and pearls of 1950s housewives, it retained its grace.
Its discontinuation remains undocumented, but its presence into the late 1950s places it among the enduring classics of the Matchabelli line, a perfume that continued to whisper of old-world charm long after the world around it had changed.


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