Signoricci 2 by Nina Ricci (1975)

Signoricci 2 by Nina Ricci was launched in 1975 as a new, softer counterpart to the original 1965 Signoricci. Created by Raymond Chaillan, it was a citrus floral green fragrance for men: bright and fresh at first, cool and lightly floral through the heart, then mossy, powdery, and woody in the drydown. Where the first Signoricci projected a sharper, more strongly green and unconventional masculine style, Signoricci 2 was intended to feel smoother, more harmonious, and especially refreshing.

The name Signoricci 2 is not a separate foreign phrase, but a continuation of the original Italian-French wordplay. Signoricci combines signor—Italian for “sir” or “mister”—with the Ricci family name, giving the sense of “Mr. Ricci,” the Ricci gentleman. The added 2, pronounced simply “two,” signals a second interpretation of that man: not a replacement for the original, but a more relaxed and approachable variation. It suggests a younger, lighter, or more easygoing member of the same elegant family, still unmistakably Ricci but with a fresh point of view.

In scent, the name suggests charm without force. Signoricci 2 evokes a man in an open-collared shirt on a bright day, freshly showered, polished but not overdressed, moving easily between work, travel, sport, and leisure. Its freshness is not the austere chill of a traditional barbershop cologne; it has a softer, more natural green quality, like citrus trees, leaves warmed by sun, pale woods, and a cool breeze through a garden. The perfume’s personality was expressly described as fresh and direct, balancing a clear masculinity with seduction and ease.

The press materials place fig leaf absolute at the center of this impression. Fig leaf has a very distinctive green scent: milky sap, crushed leaves, coconut-like creaminess, damp bark, and the warm shade beneath a fig tree. A true leaf extract may be obtained by solvent extraction, though the full fig-leaf effect in perfume is often supported by an accord of natural and synthetic materials, since the living leaf’s nuanced green-milky scent is difficult to preserve exactly. Oakmoss gives this leafy freshness a dry forest-floor foundation, while daffodil adds a green, pollen-like floral note with honeyed, hay-like, and faintly animalic depth. Together, they make the freshness feel botanical and textured rather than simply citrusy.

Cedarwood provides dry pencil shavings, pale wood, and clean aromatic warmth; coriander gives a spicy, peppery, lightly citrusy vibration; and petitgrain supplies the bitter-green scent of orange leaves and twigs. Lemon tree suggests the perfume’s complete citrus setting—not merely juice or peel, but lemon rind, leaf, twig, blossom, and bright outdoor air. These elements create the “rich, shimmering harmony” described by Nina Ricci: a green-citrus fragrance that feels as though it has been illuminated from within by sunlight, yet remains grounded by wood and moss.

The launch came in the mid-1970s, a period when men’s fashion was becoming more relaxed, colorful, and individual. The narrow, mod tailoring of the 1960s had given way to broader lapels, open-collared shirts, flared trousers, knitwear, suede, patterned fabrics, and a greater freedom in personal grooming. The decade also encouraged a more natural, outdoors-oriented idea of masculinity. Men’s fragrances increasingly moved away from the purely formal barbershop model toward compositions that were fresh, aromatic, green, woody, and suitable for everyday wear. A perfume like Signoricci 2 fit this mood perfectly: refined enough for a man of distinction, but light enough to feel effortless.

Within the perfume market, Signoricci 2 followed an important contemporary trend toward softer, fresher masculine scents, especially citrus, aromatic, and green compositions with mossy or woody bases. It was not an isolated experiment, but Nina Ricci’s response to a developing international preference for fragrance that refreshed rather than overwhelmed. Its distinctive quality lay in the way it tempered the expected citrus-and-moss structure with fig leaf, daffodil, cedar, and floral notes. This made it more atmospheric and subtle than a conventional lemon cologne: a garden-like masculine scent with the polish of a French house.

By 1978, Nina Ricci presented the two Signoricci fragrances as complementary choices. Signoricci 1 was the stronger, more unusual, decidedly fresh version; Signoricci 2 was described as a masculine fragrance of “soft, fresh, and harmonious notes,” exceptionally refreshing and made to charm as well as seduce. Offered as Eau de Toilette, aftershave, and spray deodorant, it could be worn as a complete grooming ritual. The message was clear: Signoricci 2 was for the man who wanted all the distinction of the Ricci name, but expressed with a lighter hand—fresh, composed, and naturally elegant.

Fragrance Composition:

So what does it smell like? Signoricci 2 is classified as a citrus floral green fragrance for men. It begins with a citrusy fresh top, followed by a cool floral woody heart, resting on a mossy powdery base. 

• Top notes: aldehyde, lemon, lemon seed, lemon tree, lime, petitgrain, bergamot, mandarin, clary sage, basil, fig leaf absolute
• Middle notes: jonquil, jasmine, carnation, fruit note, Haitian vetiver, Alpine lavender, Provençal hay, coriander
• Base notes: exotic woods, lichen, patchouli, cedar, white musk, oakmoss, amber, tonka bean, ambergris

Scent Profile:

Signoricci 2 is a citrus floral green fragrance that develops like a walk through a sunlit garden: first the sharp brightness of lemon and leafy citrus trees, then cool flowers and aromatic herbs, finally a soft mossy-woody warmth. It is fresher and gentler than the original Signoricci, but its freshness is carefully structured. Rather than smelling merely of cologne, it moves from sparkling citrus into powder, hay, moss, pale woods, and a warm skin-like amber finish.

The opening begins with an aldehyde, an aroma-chemical effect that gives the citrus a vivid, almost silvery lift. It can suggest cold air, waxed peel, clean linen, and the sparkling freshness of a drink poured over ice. Here, it makes the natural citrus notes more radiant and diffusive. Lemon supplies the immediate smell of yellow peel, tart juice, pith, and sunlight. Lemon seed is best understood as an impressionistic perfumery note: lemon seeds can yield a fatty fixed oil, but not the bright, volatile fragrance expected from a fresh lemon perfume. The “seed” effect suggests a faintly nutty, bitter, green undertone within the lemon accord, giving it more texture than a simple zest note.

The lemon tree note is likewise an artistic accord rather than a single material. It evokes the whole tree at once: crushed lemon leaf, twig, rind, blossom, sap, and the dry warmth of bark. Lime adds a greener, more piercing citrus tang, while petitgrain, distilled from citrus leaves and twigs, gives the opening a bitter-green, lightly floral, woody character. Bergamot contributes polished, tea-like bitterness and a delicate floral nuance; mandarin softens the sharper citruses with a sweeter, rounder, more golden fruit effect. These materials give Signoricci 2 its broad, sparkling citrus landscape—bright but not juvenile, fresh but never thin.

Clary sage introduces aromatic softness: dry herbs, tea, hay, a faintly musky warmth, and a subtle tobacco-like edge. Basil adds a sharper green leafiness, touched with pepper and clove-like spice. Their role is to keep the citrus from smelling like a simple fruit drink; they turn it into the scent of an actual garden, where leaves and herbs grow beside the trees. Fig leaf absolute adds an especially unusual green facet—milky sap, crushed leaves, coconut-like creaminess, damp bark, and the warm, shaded smell beneath a fig tree. Genuine leaf extracts can be made by solvent extraction, but the complete fig-leaf scent is often reinforced with an accord because the living leaf’s milky-green complexity is difficult to capture and preserve exactly.

The floral heart begins with jonquil, a species of narcissus whose natural absolute can smell green, honeyed, hay-like, and softly animalic, with yellow petals and spring pollen. It gives the perfume a gentle floral warmth without turning it overtly sweet. Jasmine brings a smooth white floral bloom—tea, cream, warm petals, and a subtle human richness—while carnation contributes the dry, clove-spiced scent of pink petals. Carnation’s floral identity is commonly reconstructed or strengthened with spice materials because the living flower is difficult to capture faithfully as a practical perfume extract. A general fruit note adds a light, fresh, juicy brightness; it is almost certainly an accord of aroma chemicals rather than a single named fruit, designed to make the florals feel more cheerful and modern.

Haitian vetiver gives the heart an elegant dry-root character: green grass, pale wood, earth, and a restrained smoky warmth. Haitian material is generally valued for being cleaner, greener, and less intensely smoky than Java vetiver, which makes it especially graceful in a fresh citrus composition. Alpine lavender brings the cool scent of high-country herbs—lavender flowers, dry stems, a faint camphoraceous breeze, and sun on stone. Provençal hay adds the warm, dry sweetness of cut grasses, straw, pollen, and a trace of tobacco leaf; its southern French association reinforces the perfume’s Mediterranean, outdoorsy character. Coriander supplies a final aromatic flicker of peppery seed, lemony spice, and warm dry wood.

The base is soft, mossy, and powdery rather than heavy. Exotic woods is a composite accord, not a single tree: it suggests polished timber, dry roots, faint smoke, and the shadowy warmth of woods gathered from distant places. Lichen brings a cool, damp, mineral, woodland nuance, while patchouli contributes dark earth, camphor, old wood, and a lightly chocolate-like richness. Cedar adds dry pencil shavings and pale aromatic wood. Oakmoss provides the classic chypre foundation—forest floor, damp bark, ink, leather, and a refined bitter-green darkness that gives the light citrus structure and longevity.

White musk is a modern synthetic musk accord, soft, clean, warm, and skin-like rather than animalic. It makes the fragrance feel freshly laundered and intimate, smoothing the edges of moss, herbs, and woods. Amber is also usually an accord rather than a literal single natural substance: it gives a golden, resinous, softly sweet warmth. Tonka bean adds vanilla, almond, sweet hay, balsam, and coumarin-rich warmth, deepening the Provençal hay effect. Finally, ambergris gives a mineral, salty-sweet, skin-warm diffusion in historic perfumery; a modern version would ordinarily recreate that effect with ethical synthetic ambergris materials. Together, these base notes leave Signoricci 2 with a quiet, harmonious trail of citrus leaves, cool flowers, warm hay, powder, moss, and clean skin.

Product Line:

From 1975 through 1984/1985, Signoricci 2 was available in the following:

• For grooming: Eau de Toilette splash (3 sizes); Eau de Toilette atomizers: 4 oz (120 ml) and 2 oz (60 ml), refillable
• For shaving: shaving foam (aerosol); aftershave(lotion); aftershave (spray
• Related products: perfumed soaps (boxed sets of two soaps or individual boxes); cream soap (for the shower); deodorant (spray); travel kits.

From its 1975 launch through the mid-1980s, Signoricci 2 was offered as a complete grooming collection, allowing its softer citrus-green character to be worn in several degrees of freshness.

The Eau de Toilette splash, offered in three sizes, would have been the most classic expression of the fragrance. Used generously after bathing, it would open with lemon, lime, petitgrain, bergamot, mandarin, basil, clary sage, and fig leaf—a bright, leafy, gently aromatic freshness—before settling into cool flowers, lavender, hay, vetiver, cedar, moss, tonka, and soft amber. Applied as a splash, it would remain close to the body and feel especially natural: a clean, relaxed green-citrus veil rather than a dense perfume.

The refillable Eau de Toilette atomizers, in four-ounce (120 ml) and two-ounce (60 ml) sizes, would make the fragrance more airy and expansive. Sprayed, its aldehydic citrus opening would bloom in a fine mist, allowing the lemon-tree, basil, fig-leaf, and petitgrain facets to feel brighter and more atmospheric. As the spray settled, the warmer tones of hay, tonka, white musk, oakmoss, cedar, and ambergris would become apparent. The smaller refillable atomizer made it easy to renew the scent during the day, restoring the freshly washed, green-citrus impression that was central to Signoricci 2.

The shaving products gave the fragrance its cleanest and most practical form. The aerosol shaving foam would emphasize the bright lemon, basil, clary sage, and petitgrain qualities, creating a crisp, aromatic, barbershop-like effect in the lather. The aftershave lotion would feel cooler, sharper, and more fleeting, leaving the face and neck with a fresh citrus-herb trace that dried down to soft woods and moss. The aftershave spray would offer a gentler, more diffused application, carrying the same harmonious freshness over a wider area without the bracing feel of a traditional splash.

The related products allowed the wearer to layer the scent discreetly. Perfumed soaps, sold individually or as boxed pairs, would leave the skin with a light, clean impression of citrus, herbs, and soft moss. Cream soap for the shower would make the fragrance warmer and smoother in steam, drawing out the fig leaf, hay, tonka, and pale woody facets. The deodorant spray would keep the freshest lemon-and-green-leaf character close to the body, while travel kits made the complete Signoricci 2 ritual portable. Together, the line expressed the perfume’s purpose perfectly: exceptionally refreshing, quietly masculine, and easy to wear from morning through evening.

Fate of the Fragrance:

Discontinued, date unknown.

Premier Jour by Nina Ricci (2001)

Premier Jour by Nina Ricci was launched in 2001 as a declaration of renewal for the house. Its name is French, pronounced approximately “preh-myair zhoor,” and means “first day.” It suggests the beginning of something important: the first morning in a new home, the first day of a new life, or the private, hopeful moment in which a woman decides to begin again. Nina Ricci described it as the birth of a new chapter for the brand, making the title both a fragrance name and a statement of intent.

The name also carries a gentle intimacy. Premier Jour evokes pale dawn light, clean skin, flowers newly opened, fresh sheets, a dress chosen for a special occasion, and the quiet excitement of possibility. It does not imply drama or conquest; it suggests an awakening. For a woman, it could represent a beginning that is personal rather than public—new love, independence, motherhood, a new job, a new city, or simply a renewed sense of herself.

Nina Ricci was the Italian-born French designer Maria “Nina” Ricci (1883–1970), who founded the Paris house with her son Robert in 1932. She became famous for her graceful, body-conscious couture, often shaped directly on the mannequin, and for an ideal of femininity that was soft, romantic, and exquisitely finished. Robert Ricci translated that same sensibility into perfume, helping establish the house through classics such as Cœur-Joie and L’Air du Temps. Premier Jour therefore had the task of carrying this heritage forward without merely repeating it: it retained the house’s femininity, but expressed it in a cleaner, more contemporary language.

The fragrance was created by Sophie Labbé, Carlos Benaïm, and Rosendo Mateu, three accomplished perfumers whose collaboration gave it a balanced floral character. It is classified as a floral fragrance, often described as a warm, exotic floral with a light oriental feeling. Its structure moves from the bright softness of mandarin and sweet pea into a creamy floral heart of gardenia and orchid, then into a smooth base of musk, sandalwood, vanilla, and soft woods. The result is sensual but not heavy: floral warmth held close to the skin rather than projected as a grand perfume statement.

The launch came at the beginning of the early 2000s, often remembered as the Y2K era. Fashion was moving away from the exaggerated shoulders and powerful glamour of the 1980s and into a mix of minimalism, body-conscious dressing, lingerie-inspired slips, low-rise trousers, sleek knitwear, metallic details, and a growing bohemian softness. Women’s beauty ideals increasingly favored luminous skin, natural-looking makeup, glossy hair, and fragrance that felt personal and wearable rather than formally “perfumed.” Premier Jour suited this new mood: it was feminine and sensual, but in a soft-focus, understated way.

In perfumery, the period embraced fruity florals, clean musks, pale woods, sheer vanilla, and approachable florientals. Bright citrus-and-fruit perfumes such as Dolce & Gabbana Light Blue, also launched in 2001, were becoming major successes, while the same year’s Chanel Coco Mademoiselle demonstrated the appetite for a younger, fresher, more modern interpretation of French elegance. Premier Jour belonged to this wider movement, but its identity was gentler and more intimate than either a sparkling citrus perfume or a dramatic patchouli-driven scent. It offered gardenia, orchid, vanilla, and sandalwood as a soft, welcoming floral skin scent.

For women in 2001, a perfume called Premier Jour could feel especially resonant. It suggested that femininity did not have to be fixed or inherited; it could be chosen anew each day. The name made the fragrance suitable for romance, but also for self-renewal and quiet confidence. Its softly exotic floral character interpreted that idea in scent: mandarin and sweet pea for first light; gardenia and orchid for emerging womanhood; musk, vanilla, and sandalwood for warmth, memory, and the calm assurance of a new beginning.

Fragrance Composition:

So what does it smell like? Premier Jour is a classified as a floral fragrance for women. It was described as a warm and exotic floral with light oriental "feeling".

• Top notes: metallic note, sweet pea and mandarin orange
• Middle notes: candied almonds, gardenia and orchid
• Base notes: musk, sandalwood, St. Lucia wood and vanilla

 

Scent Profile:

Premier Jour is a warm floral fragrance with a light oriental softness, designed less as a grand bouquet than as a luminous, close-to-the-skin composition. It begins with a glint of freshness, moves through tender white and pastel flowers sweetened by almond, and finally settles into musk, woods, and vanilla. The effect is intimate and quietly exotic: not an overtly heavy oriental, but a floral perfume warmed from beneath by creamy, almonded, woody notes.

The opening metallic note is an abstract perfumery effect rather than a literal metal ingredient. It is usually created through carefully selected aroma chemicals that suggest cool air, polished silver, damp petals, or the faintly mineral brightness of water. In Premier Jour, this effect makes the floral notes feel modern and translucent, as though the bouquet has been placed in the first clear light of morning. Mandarin orange adds a gentle, golden citrus sweetness—peel, soft juice, and a faint green leafiness—softening the metallic freshness into something warmer and more feminine.

Sweet pea gives the perfume its delicate, pastel-colored floral impression: powdery petals, soft green stems, a touch of rose, pear-like freshness, and a violet-like cosmetic sweetness. Sweet pea is a “mute” flower in perfumery, meaning that its subtle living fragrance cannot be captured as a practical natural extract. It must be recreated as an accord, often using floral, rose-like, violet-like, and soft green materials. This synthetic construction is what allows the sweet-pea effect to remain present on the skin, enhancing the perfume with a gentle, wistful floweriness that real sweet peas could not yield in a bottle. Sweet pea is one of perfumery’s elusive flowers, whose scent cannot be captured as a natural extract.

The heart develops a delicious candied-almond facet: white sugar, marzipan, heliotrope-like powder, and the faint bitterness of almond skin. This is generally an accord rather than a literal confectionery extract, often built with almond-like aroma materials such as benzaldehyde and heliotropin-like facets. The synthetic elements make the note smoother, longer lasting, and less harsh than natural bitter-almond materials alone. Here they give Premier Jour its light oriental feeling—the sensation of warm pastry, almond cream, and soft skin, but kept airy by the flowers.

Gardenia adds creamy, waxen white petals and a humid, jasmine-like richness. A practical natural gardenia extract is rare and difficult to obtain, so gardenia in perfume is usually an accord, constructed from white-flower, lactonic, indolic, and green materials. This reconstruction allows the flower’s plush, velvety character to bloom consistently in the fragrance. Orchid is similarly an idealized floral accord rather than a straightforward essential oil. Orchids vary enormously in scent, and their delicate odors do not generally yield a stable, useful perfumery essence. In Premier Jour, the orchid effect suggests a smooth, abstract, slightly creamy and mysterious flower—less botanical than gardenia, more like a pale silk floral veil.

The base of musk gives the entire perfume a clean, warm, skin-like softness. Modern white musks are synthetic, allowing them to provide persistence, smoothness, and a freshly laundered sensuality without animal origin. Sandalwood deepens that softness with creamy, milky, polished wood, making the flowers feel more tactile and enveloping. It is the note that turns the floral bouquet from light and airy into something warmer and more quietly sensual.

St. Lucia wood does not normally refer to the Caribbean island of Saint Lucia. It refers to the St. Lucie cherry, Prunus mahaleb, also called mahaleb, a small cherry tree native to parts of southern and central Europe, North Africa, and western Asia. Its fragrant seed kernels have an odor that recalls bitter almond, cherry stone, marzipan, and a faint orange-flower nuance. In perfumery, the note can be represented by natural mahaleb-derived material or by an almond-cherry wood accord. It connects beautifully with the candied-almond note, giving Premier Jour a delicate, slightly bittersweet woody warmth rather than a simple sweet-vanilla base. Mahaleb, or St. Lucie cherry, is known for seeds with a bitter-almond and cherry-like aroma.

Finally, vanilla wraps the whole fragrance in a gentle, creamy glow: soft pod, sweet balsam, warm skin, and faint caramel-like comfort. Natural vanilla extracts are made from cured vanilla pods, but perfumery often uses vanillin and related aroma chemicals alongside natural material to give a clearer, more lasting vanilla effect. In Premier Jour, vanilla does not dominate; it cushions the almond, orchid, gardenia, sandalwood, and musk. The final impression is of warm flowers and pale woods resting against sweet, softly powdered skin—a fragrance that feels like the first day of something beautiful.

Product Line:

Premier Jour was originally offered as Parfum and Eau de Parfum, allowing the same warm floral idea to be experienced in two degrees of richness. The Parfum would have been the most intimate and concentrated expression: a small dab revealing the creamier, deeper aspects of candied almond, gardenia, orchid, sandalwood, St. Lucia wood, vanilla, and musk. Its citrus and metallic freshness would be quieter, while the perfume’s soft oriental character—powdered almond, pale woods, warm floral petals, and skin-like musk—would remain closest to the body for the longest time.

The original Eau de Parfum would present Premier Jour in a more expansive but still sensual form. Mandarin and the fresh, metallic opening would be more apparent than in Parfum, followed by the delicate sweet-pea, gardenia, and orchid accords. The base would retain its warm vanilla, sandalwood, almond-cherry wood, and musk finish, but with a lighter diffusion and a more clearly floral profile. It was the version that best expressed the perfume’s intended balance: a luminous floral fragrance with a gentle oriental glow.

In 2003, Nina Ricci introduced Premier Jour Eau de Toilette, described as remaining faithful to the Eau de Parfum while becoming more extrovert. This did not mean a fundamentally different perfume; rather, the airy elements were intensified. The Eau de Toilette would make the mandarin, metallic freshness, sweet-pea accord, and floral brightness feel more immediate and more noticeable in the air, while the almond, vanilla, woods, and musk would be softer and less enveloping than in the Parfum or Eau de Parfum. It would feel like Premier Jour seen in brighter daylight: fresher, more buoyant, and more openly floral, while still carrying the same warm, feminine signature.

 

Fate of the Fragrance:

Discontinued prior to 2017, although old stock of the fragrance can still be found at online retailers.

Premier Jour Soleil:

In 2004, Nina Ricci introduced Premier Jour Soleil as a limited-edition summer interpretation of Premier Jour. Presented as an Eau d’Été, it exchanged the original fragrance’s intimate, warm floral-oriental softness for the brighter atmosphere of sunny skies, white sand, sea air, and holiday skin warmed by the sun. It was intended to evoke golden memories of beach escapes: a lighter, more playful version of the Nina Ricci woman, still feminine and elegant, but relaxed, radiant, and carefree.

So what does it smell like? It is classified as a floral woody musk fragrance for women. 

• Top notes: coconut, pink pepper and peach
• Middle notes: sweet pea, gardenia, coconut, rose and tiare flower
• Base notes: musk, sandalwood and heliotrope

The opening begins with coconut, a creamy tropical effect that suggests warm sun lotion, pale coconut flesh, soft milk, and skin warmed by salt air. In perfumery, coconut is usually an accord rather than a strong literal coconut extract. Coconut oil itself has a relatively quiet fatty odor, so perfumers use lactonic aroma chemicals—materials with creamy, milky, peach-like or coconut-like facets—to create the recognizable tropical effect. Here, that synthetic artistry gives the perfume its lasting beach-sun warmth. Pink pepper adds a sparkling, rosy, lightly citrusy spice, like crushed pink berries with a soft peppery fizz, while peach contributes velvety fruit flesh, fuzzy skin, and a gentle golden sweetness. Peach, too, is generally a constructed accord, giving a more luminous and enduring fruit impression than a real peach could provide.

At the heart, sweet pea brings a tender, powdery, pastel floral note—green stems, delicate petals, faint rose, pear, and violet-like softness. Sweet pea is one of perfumery’s “mute flowers,” whose true scent cannot be extracted as a practical natural essence, so it must be recreated through a floral accord. This reconstruction makes the flower more radiant and long-lasting, preserving its wistful, romantic quality against the tropical notes. Gardenia adds creamy white petals, waxy richness, and a jasmine-like warmth; because gardenia is also difficult to capture as a stable natural perfume material, it is commonly built from a blend of white-flower, green, and creamy aroma materials.

A second touch of coconut reinforces the perfume’s sun-lotion effect within the floral heart, wrapping the gardenia in a warm, milky tropical haze. Rose contributes a fresh pink softness, keeping the composition from becoming too beachy or sweet, while tiaré flower adds the image of Tahitian gardenia—white petals, humid air, tropical warmth, and the traditional scent of flowers infused into coconut oil. Tiaré is strongly associated with French Polynesia and sun oil, though in perfume its delicate floral scent is usually represented by an accord or supported extraction rather than a simple essential oil. It gives Premier Jour Soleil its most explicit postcard-like tropical image: white flowers tucked behind the ear beside an ocean of dazzling blue.

The base is soft and sensuous. Musk gives a clean, warm, skin-like trail; in a modern perfume it would be composed from synthetic musks, which provide lasting softness without animal origin. Sandalwood adds creamy, milky, polished wood, harmonizing with the coconut and making the fragrance feel smooth rather than sugary. Heliotrope completes the drydown with a powdery almond-vanilla sweetness, touched with cherry-like softness and cosmetic face powder. The living heliotrope flower does not yield a practical perfumery essence, so its scent is recreated with materials such as heliotropin, which enhances the perfume’s almondy, sun-warmed floral comfort.

The final effect is a floral woody musk with a holiday glow: peach and pink pepper catching the light; coconut, gardenia, sweet pea, rose, and tiaré drifting through humid summer air; and a base of musk, sandalwood, and heliotrope lingering like soft skin after a day at the beach.

Unfortunately, this limited edition was discontinued.

Premier Jour Lucky Day:

In 2005, Nina Ricci introduced Premier Jour Lucky Day as a limited-edition spring variation on Premier Jour. Its theme was the lightness of spring—fresh, nuanced, refined, and quietly optimistic. Where Premier Jour Soleil imagined a beach holiday, Lucky Day suggests the first mild days after winter: new leaves, flowers opening in pale light, fruit freshly picked, and the small private thrill of a fortunate beginning. Its floral woody musk character is softer and more playful than the original, with a gentle almond-tonka warmth beneath its bright floral-fruit opening.  

It is classified as a floral woody musk fragrance for women. 

• Top notes: sweet pea, mandarin orange, black currant and apple
• Middle notes: freesia, heliotrope and white clover
• Base notes: Jordanian almond, musk, tonka bean and sandalwood

The top begins with sweet pea, a delicate floral impression of pastel petals, green stems, soft powder, and hints of rose, pear, and violet. Sweet pea is a “mute” flower in perfumery: its fragile living scent cannot be captured as a practical natural extract, so it must be reconstructed through a floral accord. This synthetic artistry allows its tender, springlike character to remain present on the skin. Mandarin orange brings golden citrus peel and soft juice, while black currant adds a darker, tart, green-fruity contrast—purple berries, crushed leaves, and a faint wine-like tang. The blackcurrant effect is generally built with aroma chemicals and leaflike materials, giving it the vivid lift of fresh fruit without the fleeting quality of actual juice.

Apple gives the opening a crisp, watery, lightly sweet fruitiness, like biting into a cool green-gold apple. As with peach and blackcurrant, the apple effect is normally an accord rather than an essential oil: carefully selected aroma chemicals reproduce the fruit’s fresh, juicy transparency and let it last longer in perfume. Together, sweet pea, mandarin, blackcurrant, and apple create an opening that feels like a spring garden after rain—flowers, leaves, citrus, and fruit still cool from the morning air.

The heart is made of soft, airy flowers. Freesia suggests a clean, dewy floral scent with peppery brightness, green stems, and a gentle citrusy sweetness. The flower does not provide a straightforward, practical natural essence for fine perfumery, so its fragrance is recreated through an accord; this gives it the clear, radiant diffusion that makes freesia feel so fresh. Heliotrope brings the contrasting texture of powder, almond, vanilla, and faint cherry-like sweetness. Its floral perfume effect is also constructed, typically around heliotropin and related materials, which give the scent its soft cosmetic-powder warmth.

White clover adds a tender meadow quality: pale honey, fresh grass, green stems, and a trace of hay. It is not generally a single easily obtained perfume extract, so the note is best understood as a floral-green accord, often supported by coumarin-like hay facets and gentle honeyed materials. It gives Lucky Day its prettiest seasonal image—a field of small white blossoms appearing among new grass, rather than a formal bouquet arranged indoors.

The base centers on Jordanian almond, a note best understood as an almond accord or a highly specific perfumer’s sourcing description rather than a widely standardized perfumery grade. Almond itself is not normally expressed as a simple essential oil in fragrance; its characteristic scent is most often built from almond-like aroma materials, especially benzaldehyde facets, which smell of bitter almond, marzipan, cherry stone, and soft pastry. The Jordanian association gives the note a warm Levantine romanticism, while the constructed almond accord provides the creamy, lasting sweetness needed to support the flowers without turning them into dessert.

Musk adds clean, warm, skin-like softness; in a modern perfume, this would be made from synthetic musks, which provide gentle diffusion and persistence without animal origin. Tonka bean deepens the almond effect with natural coumarin-rich notes of vanilla, hay, balsam, almond, and warm spice. Finally, sandalwood gives the fragrance a creamy, milky, polished woodiness, smoothing the fruit and flowers into a soft, comforting finish. The final effect is springtime refinement: sweet pea and freesia over fruit and clover, then almond, tonka, sandalwood, and musk lingering like warm sunlight after a lucky day.

Unfortunately, this limited edition was discontinued.

 

Signoricci by Nina Ricci (1965)

Signoricci by Nina Ricci was introduced in 1965 as the house’s polished answer to the modern man’s fragrance. Classified as a woody aldehydic citrus-green scent, it opened with fresh, vivid greenery, developed into a cool floral-aromatic heart, and settled into a dry, powdery, mossy-wood base. Nina Ricci positioned it for “the Man of Quality”: not simply a man who dressed well, but one whose character suggested taste, confidence, intelligence, and a refusal to follow the ordinary path.

The name is a clever Italian-French construction. Signor is Italian for “sir” or “mister,” and combined with the Ricci name, Signoricci can be understood as “Mr. Ricci”—the Ricci gentleman. It is pronounced approximately “seen-yoh-REE-chee.” The name was especially apt for a house founded by Italian-born Nina Ricci and made famous in Paris: it gave the fragrance an Italian warmth and authority while preserving the sophistication of French couture. It evokes a gentleman with personal style rather than a generic image of masculinity—someone assured, discerning, well travelled, and quietly distinctive.

In scent, Signoricci interprets that character through contrast. Its aldehydic structure gives the composition a modern, clean-edged brilliance, making the natural materials appear brighter and more energetic. Florentine iris contributes cool, powdery elegance; clary sage brings aromatic leaves, dry hay, and a subtle tobacco-like softness; and Arabian galbanum introduces the sharp green scent of crushed stems, bitter sap, and resin. Bigarade, or bitter orange, supplies dry, tart citrus peel, while vetiver essence gives a rooty, grassy, faintly smoky woodiness. Singapore patchouli adds dark earth and exotic wood, and hay essence brings the sun-warmed, lightly sweet scent of dried grasses. The overall impression is fresh but never simple: green foliage and bitter citrus sharpened by aldehydes, then softened by powder, moss, woods, and warm hay.

The fragrance was launched during the early years of the Swinging Sixties, when masculine style was becoming more fashion-conscious and individual. Men’s wardrobes were changing through slim-cut suits, narrow ties, Italian tailoring, crisp shirts, Chelsea boots, sharper grooming, and the influence of film, music, and youth culture. Traditional barbershop colognes and aftershaves still mattered, but a fragrance was increasingly understood as part of a man’s personal image. Signoricci would have appealed to a man who wanted to seem contemporary and cultivated, but not flashy—a scent for the office, travel, evenings out, and the increasingly mobile, international life imagined by the decade.

Within the market of its time, Signoricci followed the growing preference for fresh, aromatic, citrus-and-green masculine fragrances, yet it was more unusual than a straightforward cologne. The mid-1960s were moving toward compositions that combined citrus, herbs, woods, vetiver, moss, and new synthetic materials to create a cleaner, more modern idea of masculinity. Signoricci belonged to that direction, but its prominent galbanum, powdery iris, bitter orange, patchouli, and hay gave it an unconventional personality. It had the crispness men expected from a cologne, but the complexity and shadow of a refined green chypre.

A 1969 notice in Cue presented it to American readers as a Nina Ricci cologne for men described as “incontestably male.” That phrase is revealing: the fragrance was meant to be unmistakably masculine, yet in a sophisticated, French manner rather than through blunt strength. Its packaging reinforced the point. The bottles were modeled after an antique Baccarat flacon, giving a practical men’s cologne the visual authority of historic French crystal. A bottle of just over three ounces sold for $6, while the larger six-plus-ounce size was $10—priced as an accessible but distinctly elegant personal luxury.

By 1978, the original fragrance was called Signoricci “1” following the introduction of Signoricci “2.” The first was described as strong, decidedly fresh, unusual, and refined, and was available as Eau de Toilette, aftershave, and deodorant spray. The newer Signoricci “2” offered a softer, fresher, more harmonious interpretation, likewise available as Eau de Toilette, aftershave, and spray deodorant. Together, the two versions allowed Nina Ricci to develop the “Signoricci” man in different directions: the original, sharper and more individual, and the second, smoother and exceptionally refreshing.

Fragrance Composition:

So what does it smell like? Signoricci is classified as a woody-aldehyde-citrus-green fragrance for men. It begins with a fresh green top, followed a fresh green floral heart, layered over a woody, powdery mossy base. 

• Top notes: aldehydes, green note, Paraguayan petitgrain, Tunisian neroli bigarade, Amalfi lemon, Calabrian bergamot, Sicilian mandarin, Italian bitter orange
• Middle notes: Arabian galbanum, Indian carnation, lily of the valley, Bulgarian rose, Hungarian clary sage, fern accord, Florentine iris
• Base notes: hay essence, coumarin, Haitian vetiver, Singapore patchouli, Yugoslavian oakmoss, Virginia cedar, Ethiopian civet, ambergris, Venezuelan tonka bean, Spanish labdanum

Scent Profile:

Signoricci is a woody aldehydic citrus-green fragrance built on contrast: a cool, bright opening of citrus and leaves; a heart of herbs, flowers, and powdery iris; and a dry, mossy base warmed by hay, tonka, leather-like animalic facets, and woods. It is a masculine perfume in the sophisticated mid-1960s French style—fresh enough to suggest cologne, but structured like a chypre, with a darker green-brown shadow beneath its clarity.

It opens with aldehydes, aroma chemicals that give the perfume a sparkling, polished lift. They can suggest chilled air, citrus peel, clean linen, waxed petals, and the faint metallic brightness of a well-kept barbershop. Here, they amplify rather than replace the naturals: they make the citrus brighter, the green notes crisper, and the whole fragrance feel more modern. The accompanying green note is a constructed accord, evoking crushed stems, snapped leaves, sap, and the cool scent released when foliage is bruised. It gives the composition its immediate sense of brisk, living vegetation.

Paraguayan petitgrain is distilled from the leaves and twigs of the bitter-orange tree, rather than from its fruit or blossoms. It smells leafy, bitter-green, lightly floral, and gently woody, with a soft neroli-like glow. Paraguayan material is especially admired for combining citrus freshness with a rounded, sweet-woody leafiness, allowing the fresh top to continue into the heart. Tunisian neroli bigarade, steam-distilled from bitter-orange blossoms, is more floral and luminous: white petals, green citrus, honey, and a faintly metallic freshness. Tunisian material is often prized for its particularly floral, bitter-green neroli character, creating a beautiful bridge between petitgrain’s leaves and the perfume’s later flowers. Tunisian petitgrain bigarade is noted for its floral, bitter-green, neroli-like profile.

The fruit notes form a finely graded Mediterranean citrus accord. Amalfi lemon brings bright yellow zest, pith, and a sunlit, lightly saline freshness; Calabrian bergamot adds the more cultivated bitterness of citrus peel, Earl Grey tea, and a delicate floral-herbal nuance. Sicilian mandarin softens both with a rounder, juicier, golden sweetness, while Italian bitter orange adds dry, tannic, marmalade-like peel and a refreshing touch of bitterness. Together, they do not smell like a sweet fruit basket. They smell like an Italian garden at morning—fruit, leaves, blossoms, and clean air, made sharper by the aldehydic lift.

The heart begins with Arabian galbanum, a historical trade description for the intensely green gum resin more accurately associated with Ferula species from Iran and neighboring regions. Its odor is startlingly vivid: torn green pepper, celery leaf, bitter sap, pine, and dark resin. Galbanum gives Signoricci its unconventional edge, making the perfume feel green in a raw, botanical sense rather than simply fresh. Indian carnation brings a dry, clove-like floral spice—pink petals dusted with pepper—while lily of the valley provides a dewy, cool, white floral effect. Lily of the valley does not yield a practical natural essence, so its scent must be recreated with aroma chemicals and supporting floral materials; this constructed muguet accord gives the fragrance a clear, watery freshness that a literal flower extraction could not provide.

Bulgarian rose supplies a refined rosy glow: fresh pink petals, lemony brightness, honey, and a faint peppery depth. Rose from Bulgaria’s historic Rose Valley is especially esteemed for this balance of lift and richness, shaped by the region’s climate and traditional dawn harvesting. Hungarian clary sage adds an aromatic, earthy-green softness, with nuances of lavender, tea, hay, dry herb, and faint musk. It is less culinary than ordinary sage and gives the floral heart a relaxed, slightly sun-warmed character. The fern accord is another beautiful perfumery illusion. Ferns do not provide a usable fragrance extract, so the classic “fougère” effect is constructed from aromatic herbs, coumarin, moss, woods, and often lavender-like materials. In Signoricci, it suggests shaded greenery, cool woodland air, and a clean, masculine barbershop freshness.

Florentine iris completes the heart with cool powder, pale wood, soft suede, and a violet-like floral hush. Its scent comes from aged iris rhizomes, not the blossoms; the “Florentine” name reflects the famed Tuscan iris tradition. Iris gives the perfume its elegant, almost tailored smoothness, tempering galbanum’s sharpness and setting the flowers against a veil of fine face powder. It is one of the reasons Signoricci feels more polished than a conventional citrus cologne.

The base begins with hay essence, which smells of dried grasses, warm sunlight, straw, tobacco leaf, and a faint honeyed sweetness. It blends naturally into coumarin, an aroma chemical found in tonka beans and sweet grasses but also widely made synthetically for perfumery. Coumarin smells like sweet hay, almond, vanilla, and freshly cut grass. Its synthetic form is especially useful because it supplies a pure, stable, long-lasting hay-and-tonka effect, enhancing the natural hay note without its rougher, more fleeting facets. This pairing gives Signoricci its gentle warmth and softens the sharp green opening into something more intimate.

Haitian vetiver adds dry roots, green grass, pale wood, and a restrained smoky-earthy depth. Haitian oil is generally cleaner, greener, and more refined than the very smoky style associated with Java vetiver, making it especially suited to a citrus-green chypre. Singapore patchouli should be understood as a historical trade designation rather than proof that the plant was necessarily cultivated on Singapore itself; patchouli was widely moved through Southeast Asian trading routes. Its contribution is unmistakable: damp earth, dark wood, camphor, and a faintly chocolate-like richness. Yugoslavian oakmoss, gathered in the Balkan region then known as Yugoslavia, supplies the cool forest-floor note essential to the chypre style—moss, ink, damp bark, leather, and elegant bitterness.

Virginia cedar, usually Juniperus virginiana, gives the base a dry pencil-shaving smell, a clean red-wood warmth, and a faint aromatic sharpness. Ethiopian civet is a historical animalic material associated with the civet trade of East Africa. In a vintage formula, a trace would have added warmth, leather, and a sensual living-skin quality; today, ethical and legal concerns mean that modern perfumery uses synthetic civet accords instead. Ambergris similarly contributes a mineral, salty-sweet, skin-warm radiance in historic perfume, though present-day compositions normally rely on ethical ambergris-style aroma materials. Neither need smell overtly animalic: used sparingly, they give the woods, moss, and flowers warmth and persistence.

Venezuelan tonka bean deepens the coumarin effect with a naturally rich scent of vanilla, almond, warm hay, balsam, and soft spice. The dried seed of Dipteryx odorata, tonka is especially valued for its high natural coumarin content; it makes the base feel plush and faintly edible without becoming sweet. Venezuelan tonka is characterized by vanilla, hay, almond, and balsamic coumarin facets. Finally, Spanish labdanum, from the sticky resin of Mediterranean rockrose, gives the fragrance its dark ambered finish: warm resin, dried herbs, honey, leather, sun-baked leaves, and faint smoke. The final effect is of a green, citrus-lit landscape gradually darkening into moss, warm hay, dry cedar, ambered resin, and skin.

Product Line:

From 1969/1970 through 1984/1985, Signoricci 1 was available in the following:

• For grooming: Eau de Toilette splash (3 sizes); Eau de Toilette atomizers: 4 oz (120 ml) and 2 oz (60 ml), refillable
• For shaving: shaving foam (aerosol); aftershave(lotion); aftershave (spray
• Related products: perfumed soaps (boxed sets of two soaps or individual boxes); cream soap (for the shower); deodorant (spray); travel kits.

The original Signoricci 1 carton featured a brick wall and lion motif, a bold visual statement for Nina Ricci’s “Man of Quality.” The brick wall suggested solidity, urban sophistication, and permanence; the lion conveyed poise, strength, and self-command. It was an apt setting for a fragrance whose fresh aldehydic citrus and greenery eventually settled into the drier authority of oakmoss, cedar, vetiver, patchouli, hay, tonka, and warm resin.

From 1969–70 through 1984–85, the Eau de Toilette splash, offered in three sizes, provided the most classic expression of the fragrance. Used generously after bathing, it would first smell bright and bracing—green leaves, bitter orange, petitgrain, neroli, and aldehydic freshness—before becoming more discreetly woody, powdery, mossy, and warm on the skin. The refillable Eau de Toilette atomizers, in four-ounce (120 ml) and two-ounce (60 ml) sizes, would make the same scent feel more diffusive: a spray enlarges the bright green-citrus cloud at first, then leaves its softer iris, hay, cedar, vetiver, and mossy base on clothing and skin.

The shaving products made Signoricci 1 part of a complete morning ritual. The aerosol shaving foam would emphasize the fragrance’s cleanest aromatic facets—citrus, herbs, green leaves, and a barbershop-like freshness—while the aftershave lotion would feel cooler and sharper, evaporating quickly to leave a dry green-woody trace. The aftershave spray would offer a gentler, more evenly diffused version, refreshing the face and neck with bright citrus and herb notes before the powdery iris, oakmoss, and cedar emerged.

The related products gave the scent quieter, more intimate forms. Perfumed soaps, sold individually or in boxed pairs, would leave a fleeting clean impression of green citrus, moss, and soft woods. Cream soap for the shower would warm the fragrance through steam and water, bringing out its hay, tonka, and woody facets more softly. The deodorant spray would keep the freshest green-citrus character close to the body, while travel kits allowed the Ricci man to carry the full grooming ritual with him—an elegant, practical expression of Signoricci 1 wherever he went.

Fate of the Fragrance:

Discontinued, date unknown.

Deci Dela by Nina Ricci (1994)

Déci Dela by Nina Ricci, launched internationally in 1994 after development began in 1992, marked a decidedly spirited new direction for a house better known for romantic refinement. Nina Ricci itself was founded in Paris in 1932 by Maria “Nina” Ricci and her son Robert. Nina created feminine, beautifully cut couture, while Robert developed the fragrance side of the business; together they made the house synonymous with soft glamour, polished femininity, and French elegance. The company’s greatest perfume icon, L’Air du Temps of 1948, became a postwar symbol of peace and optimism. By the 1990s, however, Nina Ricci was looking to speak to a younger, more playful woman without losing its French sophistication.  

The name is properly written Déci Delà, a stylized play on the French phrase d’ici, de là, meaning “from here, from there,” or more freely, “here and there.” In everyday pronunciation, it is approximately deh-see deh-LAH. The phrase has a wandering, musical quality: it implies movement, variety, surprise, and something appearing from unexpected directions. Chosen by Parfums Nina Ricci executives from the French operetta Véronique, the name gave the fragrance an unmistakably French, theatrical identity while avoiding anything overly formal. It sounds like a flirtatious refrain—quick, bright, and impossible to keep still.

Déci Delà consequently evokes a scatter of vivid impressions: a basket of ripe fruit overturned on a velvet tablecloth; bright lacquered color; laughter moving from one room to another; silk dresses, theater lights, and a woman who changes the atmosphere simply by entering. It carries no hint of quiet reserve. Rather, it suggests spontaneity, sensuality, and a certain delicious excess. In scent, “here and there” becomes a series of lively contrasts: tart raspberry against velvety peach, sunny florals against cool moss, and sweet amber against dry green woods. The name prepares the wearer for a perfume that refuses to progress in a single, predictable line.

Created by Evelyne Boulanger and Jean Guichard, Déci Delà was presented as a harmony of three interwoven olfactory lines: fruit for youthfulness, flowers for warmth and development, and woods for softness. It opens with a juicy, exuberant fruit accord: peach, raspberry, melon, and the apricot-like suede fruitiness of osmanthus, animated by the floral, faintly tea-like character of boronia. This is a deliberately lush opening, closer to ripe fruit compote than to a discreet splash of citrus. The heart follows with centifolia rose, freesia, and aromatic hazelnut, giving the perfume a flirtatious floral warmth with a creamy, nutty accent. Its base—the most traditionally French part of the composition—draws on cypress, cedar, oakmoss, patchouli, and ambered chypre materials, creating a sweet, woody, slightly shadowed foundation beneath all that fruit. Contemporary references confirm the 1994 launch, the Boulanger–Guichard authorship, and the perfume’s fruit, flower, cypress, patchouli, resin, vanilla, and sandalwood structure.  

The timing was highly significant. The mid-1990s were a period of contrast: fashion was moving between minimalist, clean-lined dressing and exuberant color, slip dresses, club culture, playful pop imagery, and a growing taste for individuality. In perfume, fresh aquatics and transparent florals were enormously influential, and the new unisex ideal—exemplified by Calvin Klein’s ck one in 1994—favored simplicity, cleanliness, and casual ease. Fruity florals were also gaining ground, bringing peach, berries, apricot, and other juicy effects into more mainstream fine fragrance. Déci Delà clearly answered that appetite for fruit and brightness, but it did so with far more color and volume than a typical minimalist 1990s scent.

That distinction made it both contemporary and unusual. The opening followed the decade’s taste for vivid, youthful fruit, but its mossy chypre backbone and lavish, sweetly ambery drydown gave it a dramatic, almost old-fashioned French richness. A true chypre relies on the tension between freshness, flowers or fruit, and a warm, woody moss-and-patchouli base; Déci Delà kept that structure while dressing it in raspberry, peach, apricot-toned osmanthus, and melon. It therefore fell in line with the era’s fruity-floral trend, yet it did not become a simple light fruity floral. Its effect was fuller, sweeter, more theatrical, and more audacious.

For women in 1994, Déci Delà could have felt like an assertion of pleasure in a moment when fragrance was increasingly divided between clean minimalism and bold new sweetness. It was for the woman who wanted something more expressive than a watery floral: youthful, yes, but not innocent; feminine, but not fragile. Vanity Fair’s 1995 description of it as “original,” “audacious,” exotic, fruity, floral, and chypre captures that intention well. The bright flacons and lush scent were meant to feel almost edible and visually irresistible—an exuberant French perfume that moved, true to its name, from here to there and back again.

Fragrance Composition:

So what does it smell like? Deci Dela is classified as a crisp, fruity floral mossy chypre fragrance for women. It begins with a fruity top, followed by a fruity floral heart, layered over a sweet ambery base. Press materials read: "Deci Dela is called a harmony of three interwoven lines of scents - one fruity (youthful), floral (warm, developed) and woody (softness.) The eau de toilette is lighter and fruitier while the parfum is the warmest, most complex.  Succulent fruits in combination with floral accents make this fragrance a show-stopper.  Artful packaging contains a mixture of sensual delights with the unexpected punch of raspberry, cherry, peach, freesia and rose. Not for the faint of heart. In eau de toilette, concentrated eau de toilette and extract."

• Top notes: orange, mandarin, watermelon, pawpaw, cherry, red currant, raspberry, Chinese osmanthus, nectarine, apricot, peach, Australian boronia, Brazilian rosewood 
• Middle notes: hazelnut, freesia, headspace sweet pea, carnation, Javanese papaya, orris, freesia, jasmine, sweet pea rose, cabbage rose, ylang ylang
• Base notes: Sumatran balsam, myrrh, tonka bean, ambergris, vanilla, benzoin, amber, styrax, Cambodian agarwood, cedar, cypress, oakmoss, Mysore sandalwood, patchouli, resins, musk

Scent Profile:

Déci Delà is built as an exuberant fruity floral chypre: bright, juicy, and almost overflowing in its opening, then increasingly floral, creamy, and warm as it settles into moss, woods, resins, amber, and musk. Its three “interwoven lines”—fruit, flowers, and woods—are not separate chapters so much as strands braided together. The Eau de Toilette would emphasize the sparkling fruit and lighthearted floral movement, while the Concentrated Eau de Toilette would make the rose, freesia, and soft woods feel fuller and more persistent. In Parfum or extrait, the fragrance would become its most velvety and complex: less like a bowl of fresh fruit and more like fruit preserves, petals, ambered resins, suede-like woods, and warm skin.

The top is a riot of fruit, beginning with orange and mandarin. Orange gives the effect of freshly peeled fruit—sweet, sunny, and slightly bitter at the rind—while mandarin is softer, juicier, and more candied, like warm orange segments crushed between the fingers. Watermelon adds a transparent, watery sweetness, a cool pink-green freshness that is usually created with an accord rather than a literal fruit essence. The same is true of many of Déci Delà’s fruit notes: natural fruits often do not yield stable, usable perfume oils, so the perfumer composes their scent through a careful combination of natural materials and aroma chemicals. This makes it possible to suggest not merely “fruit,” but its juicy pulp, peel, tartness, fuzz, nectar, and freshness.

Pawpaw and Javanese papaya give the opening and heart an exotic, softly creamy quality. “Pawpaw” can refer to different fruits depending on region, but in a perfumery context it likely suggests a tropical papaya-like effect: musky, mellow, slightly green, and ripe. If interpreted as the American pawpaw, it may also evoke a custardy mixture of banana, mango, and melon. Papaya is likewise usually an accord, since the fresh fruit does not yield a straightforward perfume essence. Its constructed character can be made bright and watery, or rich and musky; here, it helps bind the melon and citrus to the warmer peach, apricot, and floral notes. It gives Déci Delà its feeling of abundant, almost tactile fruit rather than a simple citrus splash.

Cherry, red currant, and raspberry provide the fragrance’s more dramatic, brightly colored facets. Cherry is generally recreated with aroma materials that can suggest red fruit, almond-like pits, syrup, or a faint wine-like tartness. Red currant gives a sharper contrast: dark, tart, leafy, and faintly sulfurous, like crushed berries still on their stems. Raspberry adds soft red sweetness with a subtle jammy, woody, almost violet-like nuance. These notes create the “unexpected punch” described in the press material, making the perfume feel lively and almost reckless. Nectarine, apricot, and peach soften that red-fruit intensity with golden, velvety flesh. Peach and apricot accords are among perfumery’s great illusions: they may use synthetic materials to reproduce the ripe, creamy, skin-like quality that natural extraction cannot fully capture. The result is not artificial fruit candy, but the impression of warm, sun-ripened fruit with a plush, sensual surface.

Chinese osmanthus gives the fruit arrangement a more sophisticated, almost suede-like contour. Osmanthus from China is particularly prized because the small blossoms can smell simultaneously of apricot, tea, leather, and soft animalic fruit skin. It bridges the bright peach-apricot family to the deeper woods and resins that appear later. Australian boronia contributes another distinctive floral-fruity nuance. Its absolute is treasured for a complex scent that can suggest ripe fruit, violet, tea, fresh hay, and dark floral nectar; it is less conventionally “pretty” than rose or jasmine and gives the opening a beautifully strange depth. Brazilian rosewood adds a warm, rosy, linalool-rich woodiness—soft, floral, slightly spicy, and almost creamy. Historically, true Brazilian rosewood was highly valued, but because the tree has faced serious pressure from overharvesting, modern perfumery generally uses tightly controlled sources, substitutes, or reconstructed rosewood effects.

In the heart, the fruits begin to acquire flowers and texture. Hazelnut gives a soft, roasted, creamy facet, as though the fruit accords have been warmed into a delicate praline. It is usually a composed note, designed from materials that evoke nut skin, almond-like creaminess, and lightly toasted warmth. Freesia brings a clean, airy brightness: fresh petals with lemony, peppery, and watery floral facets. Sweet pea is even more ephemeral. The living flower does not yield a useful perfume extract, so its note is often created through headspace technology—a method that analyzes the scent molecules released by a living bloom without picking or damaging it—then recreated with a blend of natural and synthetic ingredients. Here, the headspace sweet-pea accord gives Déci Delà the smell of delicate, cool, pastel petals with a faint green stemminess, providing lift amid the richer fruit.

Carnation gives the floral heart its spicy, old-fashioned elegance: pink petals enlivened by clove, pepper, and a slight powderiness. As with sweet pea, the true living odor of carnation is more convincingly recreated through an accord than by a simple extraction. Orris brings a cool, luxurious contrast. Derived from the aged rhizome of iris rather than the flower itself, orris smells buttery, rooty, violet-like, and finely powdered—like pale cosmetics, suede gloves, and cool earth. Jasmine lends its creamier, more sensual side: white petals warmed by a faintly indolic breath, ripe fruit, and night air. Rose appears in several shades. The “sweet pea rose” effect would likely be a tender, airy rose accord, while cabbage rose—also called centifolia rose—brings a denser, honeyed, almost jam-like petal richness. Ylang-ylang enriches everything around it with golden, creamy, tropical floral warmth, suggestive of banana, custard, sun-warmed petals, and subtle spice.

The base begins with balsams and resins that transform Déci Delà from a fruit-floral fantasy into a warm, lingering chypre. Sumatran balsam likely refers to a balsamic material from Indonesia, valued for its smooth, sweet, resinous warmth. It gives the effect of polished wood, vanilla-tinted sap, and soft incense. Myrrh adds a dry, smoky, bittersweet resin note, slightly medicinal and church-like, which prevents the fruit from becoming too sugary. Benzoin gives a more comforting sweetness—vanilla-like, almondy, and balsamic—while styrax contributes leather, smoked resin, and a faintly floral amber effect. Together they create an ambery haze that feels almost lacquered: sweet but shadowed, rich but not sticky.

Tonka bean and vanilla deepen this warmth. Tonka, often associated with Venezuela and northern South America, is rich in coumarin, which smells of warm hay, almond, tobacco, and dry sweet wood. Vanilla gives darker, rounder sweetness: cured pods, brown sugar, rum, soft tobacco, and creamy balsam. Amber is not one raw material but an accord, generally built to suggest glowing resins, warm woods, golden sweetness, and a faint suggestion of skin. Ambergris contributes an airy mineral warmth—sunlit skin, a trace of salt, tobacco-like softness, and a dry oceanic radiance. Genuine ambergris is rare and variable, so modern perfumery normally recreates its effect with refined aroma materials. These lend diffusion and sensuality without making the base heavy or overtly animalic.

The woody chypre framework is especially important. Cambodian agarwood, or oud, gives the base a dark, resinous, faintly leathery wood effect, sometimes touched with smoke, damp earth, and medicinal balsam. Genuine agarwood is rare and precious because it forms only when certain trees develop fragrant resin in response to stress or infection; modern compositions often supplement it with reconstructed oud materials to give control, clarity, and sustainability. Cedar provides clean, dry pencil shavings and freshly cut timber. Cypress adds an aromatic, cool, evergreen quality—needles, dry twigs, and the brisk air of a Mediterranean grove. Mysore sandalwood contributes its celebrated creamy, milky, gently spicy richness; traditional Indian sandalwood from Mysore is revered for its depth and softness, though modern perfumes may reinforce it with sandalwood aroma chemicals to preserve and prolong its effect. Patchouli supplies the darker earth beneath the fruit: damp leaves, cocoa, camphor, and fertile soil.

Oakmoss gives Déci Delà its final, unmistakably mossy chypre shadow. It smells of forest floor, damp bark, lichen, old leather, and bittersweet green dryness. Modern formulas typically use purified, restricted, or reconstructed oakmoss effects in order to meet safety standards, but the intended result remains the same: a dry green counterpoint that makes the fruit feel more sophisticated and the amber more elegant. “Resins” reinforce the balsamic glow, while musk gives the entire perfume a soft, skin-like finish. Modern musks are synthetic and are valued not for a loud animalic odor but for their ability to make the fruit, flowers, woods, and amber feel seamless, warm, and persistent. In its final form, Déci Delà becomes precisely what its name promises: a perfume moving delightfully from here to there—bright fruit, cool flowers, powdery petals, dark moss, glowing resins, and a trail of ambered softness that is anything but faint-hearted.

 

Bottle:

Déci Déla was presented in a wonderfully theatrical bottle designed by Mattia Bonetti for the artist-design team Bonetti and Garouste, or BG. Its rounded deep-pink glass has a natural, pleasing fullness—more like a ripe piece of fruit than a conventional perfume flacon—and perfectly suits the fragrance’s exuberant fruit-and-flower character. The rich raspberry-pink color seems to hold flashes of cherry red and mandarin orange within it, while the frosted glass gives the surface the soft, slightly velvety appearance of peach skin. Fine dancing lines of gold enliven the bottle, turning its surface into something playful and decorative rather than severe or minimalist.

The stopper completes the fantasy. Finished in matte gold, it is shaped like a plump, gently inflated heart set at a jaunty diagonal angle. This slight tilt gives the bottle a feeling of movement and flirtation, as though the heart has just landed there. The combination of tactile frosted color, animated gold swirls, and eccentric heart-shaped closure captures the romantic yet mischievous character associated with Nina Ricci, while also reflecting the artful, postmodern spirit of the mid-1990s.

The coordinating bath line took a deliberately different visual direction. Instead of repeating the perfume’s fruit-colored glass, it drew on matte sea-blue and sea-green shades with the cheerful, optimistic charm of 1950s design. The soap dish was especially whimsical: shaped like a small flying saucer and supported on tiny gold balls, it turned an ordinary bath accessory into a playful object of decorative fantasy. The shower gel and body lotion continued this imaginative language, their plump golden-wave stoppers suggesting rippling water or soft folds of gold. Together, the bath line made Déci Déla feel like a complete little world—colorful, sensual, humorous, and touched with retro-modern glamour.

Product Line:

Déci Déla was offered in a generously layered range, allowing its juicy fruity-floral chypre character to be worn in different intensities and textures. Across the line, the scent would retain its recognizable signature of bright raspberry, cherry, peach, mandarin, and floral notes over warm amber, moss, woods, and soft musk—but each form would emphasize a different part of that progression.

The 5 ml Parfum Mini Splash and 15 ml Parfum Spray were the richest, most intimate forms. In Parfum concentration, the fruit would feel darker and more candied: less like freshly sliced peach and raspberry, more like warm fruit preserves touched with osmanthus, rose, and hazelnut. The floral heart would seem deeper and more velvety, with rose, jasmine, ylang-ylang, carnation, and powdery orris closely woven into the skin. Its lasting impression would be the most complex and luxurious version of Déci Déla: sweet amber, balsams, vanilla, tonka, patchouli, oakmoss, sandalwood, and musk, with the fruit glowing softly within the base. The splash miniature would invite a small, personal dab; the spray would give the same richness a more enveloping, elegant aura.

The Eau de Toilette Concentrée—whether in the 1.2 ml sample spray vial, 5 ml mini splash, or 30 ml, 50 ml, and 100 ml bottles—would be the line’s fuller everyday expression. It would preserve more of the original fragrance’s fruit-and-flower drama than the standard Eau de Toilette, while remaining brighter and more mobile than the Parfum. The raspberry, peach, apricot-toned osmanthus, mandarin, and melon-like facets would appear quickly, followed by freesia, rose, sweet pea, and a gently nutty floral warmth. As it developed, the cypress, patchouli, oakmoss, cedar, and amber would become increasingly apparent, giving the scent a plush, mossy, sweet-woody finish. The sample vial offered a brief first encounter with that effect, while the miniature splash made it suitable for travel or a purse; the larger sizes allowed the wearer to make it a more generous personal signature.

The Eau de Toilette, available in 5 ml mini splash and in 30 ml, 50 ml, and 100 ml bottles, would be the freshest and most openly playful interpretation. It would place the emphasis on the perfume’s youthful fruit accord: the juicy brightness of raspberry and cherry, the soft fuzz of peach and nectarine, the sunny lift of mandarin, and the watery freshness of melon. Freesia and rose would seem lighter and airier, while the moss, woods, and amber would remain as a refined background rather than the main event. It would be the version most likely to feel carefree and spontaneous—ideal for daytime, warm weather, or liberal spraying—while still retaining enough oakmoss and patchouli to distinguish it from an ordinary fruity floral.

The Perfumed Dusting Powder would transform Déci Déla into a soft, cosmetic veil. Powders naturally emphasize dry, velvety, and floral elements, so the perfume’s sharper fruit notes would become gentler, like raspberry and peach lingering on a silk scarf rather than fresh fruit in a bowl. Orris, rose, freesia, warm amber, tonka, and musk would likely come forward, leaving the skin with a lightly sweet, floral-powdered finish. It would be especially lovely after bathing or beneath clothing, giving a subtle, luxurious trace of scent without the projection of perfume.

The Perfumed Body Crème would be the richest skin-care expression: smooth, warm, and cuddling. Its cream base would naturally soften the sparkling citrus and berry facets while amplifying the fragrance’s peachy, floral, ambery, and musky sides. It would smell like warm skin touched with fruit nectar, rose petals, vanilla-tonka sweetness, and pale sandalwood. The heavier texture would make it particularly effective beneath Parfum or Eau de Toilette Concentrée, helping the scent cling to the skin and making its woody-chypre base feel rounder and more sensual.

The Perfumed Body Lotion would provide a lighter, more fluid version of that experience. It would likely highlight the fragrance’s fresh fruit and floral elements—mandarin, peach, raspberry, freesia, and rose—while leaving a soft drydown of cedar, amber, and clean musk. Less dense than the crème, it would be ideal for all-over use, creating a delicate scented foundation that could be worn alone for a quiet effect or layered beneath one of the perfumes.

The Perfumed Bath & Shower Lotion would make Déci Déla feel clean, buoyant, and cheerful. Under warm water, the freshest notes would bloom most vividly: mandarin, orange, raspberry, peach, melon, and green floral facets. The richer resins, woods, and moss would appear only as a soft warmth left on the skin after rinsing, while freesia and rose would give the lather a polished floral character. It would turn bathing into the fragrance’s most lighthearted moment—bright, fruity, and sparkling rather than heavy.

The Perfumed Bath Pearls would offer a more indulgent, old-fashioned luxury. As they dissolved in warm water, they would release a softened version of Déci Déla’s fruit, flowers, and amber, scenting both bathwater and skin. The effect would likely be creamy and diffused: peach, raspberry, and rose mellowed by warm vanilla, tonka, amber, and gentle musk. Rather than projecting like fragrance, the bath pearls would leave a lingering impression of perfumed skin and a lightly scented bathroom, preparing the body beautifully for dusting powder, lotion, or Parfum.

Finally, the Perfumed Soap would present Déci Déla in its crispest, most polished form. Soap naturally brings forward clean floral, citrus, green, and powdery notes, so the first impression would likely be mandarin peel, airy freesia, rose, and a trace of raspberry-pink fruit. As the soap dried on the skin, it would leave behind a restrained suggestion of peach, pale woods, soft moss, amber, and musk. It would be a small but charming way to carry the fragrance’s playful world into everyday ritual: less a full perfume statement than a bright, elegant reminder of it.

 

Fate of the Fragrance:

Discontinued, probably around 1999.

Nina by Nina Ricci (1987)

Nina by Nina Ricci, introduced in 1987, was a deeply personal fragrance for the house: created at the express wish of Robert Ricci as a tribute to his mother, Nina Ricci. It was composed by Christian Vacchiano of the French perfume house Argeville and presented as a gentle harmony of floral, citrus, woody, and fruity notes. Soft yet crisp, it is an aldehydic fruity floral with a mossy, powdery base—a perfume designed to feel refined, tender, and recognizably Ricci rather than loudly fashionable.

Nina Ricci was the Italian-born French couturière Maria Nielli Ricci (1883–1970), known from childhood by the nickname Nina. With her son Robert, she founded the Nina Ricci fashion house in Paris in 1932. Nina became celebrated for feminine, beautifully draped clothing that seemed to be shaped directly on the body, combining softness, precision, and romantic polish. Robert managed the business and developed its great perfume legacy, including Cœur-Joie and L’Air du Temps. By naming this 1987 fragrance simply Nina, he turned the house’s most familiar name into a memorial: not merely a brand label, but an homage to the woman whose sensibility had defined the house. The house was founded in Paris by Turin-born Maria “Nina” Ricci and her son Robert.

The name Nina is pronounced “NEE-nah.” In this context, it is first and foremost a personal name and childhood nickname, rather than a word with one fixed translation. It has associations in several languages; in Spanish, niña means “little girl,” while in Italian and French it reads naturally as a feminine given name. For the fragrance, however, its meaning is intimate and direct: Nina Ricci herself. The simplicity of the name gives it warmth and confidence. It evokes a woman who needs no elaborate title—someone known and remembered through grace, gentleness, beauty, and a quietly unmistakable style.

The name suggests a fragrance that is personal rather than theatrical. Nina evokes pale flowers in a dressing room, powder compacts, silk scarves, fresh fruit, sunlight on a lacquered vanity, and the comforting elegance of a woman whose style is never forced. Robert Ricci’s assertion that “a perfume must be a work of art” is especially fitting here. The perfume was not intended as a literal recreation of his mother’s own scent, but as an olfactory portrait of the qualities associated with her: soft femininity, careful construction, romantic lightness, and an enduring sense of refinement.

The 1987 launch came at the height of the late 1980s, an era of power dressing, broad shoulders, bold color, glossy fabrics, statement jewelry, assertive professional ambition, and highly visible personal style. Fragrance followed suit: many of the period’s most successful perfumes were rich, sweet, ambery, floral, spicy, and forceful, designed to leave a dramatic trail. Yet this was also a time when women wanted fragrance to express individuality. A perfume called Nina would have offered something more intimate amid the era’s excess—a beautiful, personal name attached to a fragrance that felt polished and quietly self-assured rather than aggressively seductive.

Olfactively, the name translates as a bright but gentle floral composition. The fruity, citrus-tinged top gives the first impression of freshness and light, while aldehydic facets add a clear, sparkling, almost crystalline polish. The floral heart develops with softness rather than opulence, and the woody, mossy, powdery base gives it poise and memory. In this sense, Nina is neither a sugary fruit scent nor a heavy floral oriental. It is a carefully balanced portrait: fresh fruit and flowers softened by powder, grounded in moss and pale woods, and made intimate by its gentle warmth.

Within the market of 1987, Nina both followed and resisted contemporary trends. Fruity notes were becoming increasingly important in women’s perfumery, and the fragrance’s fresh fruit-floral opening gave it a modern relevance. Its aldehydes, iris-like powderiness, moss, and woody base, however, looked back to the great French floral chypre and aldehydic traditions that had shaped Nina Ricci’s earlier classics. This made it distinctive: while many late-1980s perfumes pursued volume and overt sensuality, Nina offered a softer, more classical elegance reframed with fresh fruit and a modern crispness.

Its launch strategy reinforced that special status. Nina was first introduced exclusively in the United States through Nordstrom department stores and by direct mail before receiving worldwide distribution. This gave the fragrance an air of discovery and selectiveness: American customers encountered it as a new, personal Nina Ricci creation before it became broadly international. It was an apt way to present a perfume carrying the founder’s own name—an intimate tribute made available, at last, to the wider world.

Fragrance Composition:

So what does it smell like? Nina is classified as a soft crisp aldehydic fruity floral woody fragrance for women. It begins with a fresh fruity top, followed by a floral heart, layered over a mossy powdery base. 

• Top notes: aldehydes, Calabrian bergamot, Amalfi lemon, Tunisian orange blossom, peach, Moroccan cassie, green notes, Comoros basil, North African marigold 
• Middle notes: West Indian bay leaf, Spanish mimosa, Egyptian jasmine, Manila ylang ylang, Bulgarian rose, Tuscan violet, Florentine orris root 
• Base notes: Mysore sandalwood, Haitian vetiver, Yugoslavian oakmoss, Penang patchouli, Tibetan musk, Ethiopian civet, Polish blackcurrant syrup    

Scent Profile:

Nina is a soft yet crisp aldehydic fruity floral woody fragrance: bright like fruit and citrus at first, then gently flowered and powdery, before it settles into moss, woods, dark fruit, and skin warmth. The listed origins create an idealized map of classic perfumery materials, but their importance is not merely geographic. Each one helps make the fragrance feel both luminous and composed—a fresh, polished floral with an understated chypre shadow.

The top opens with aldehydes, aroma chemicals that give the perfume a clear, sparkling, almost crystalline effect: chilled air, citrus peel, polished surfaces, and petals brightened by light. They make the natural notes feel more expansive and polished, rather than replacing them. Calabrian bergamot adds refined green bitterness, tea, and floral citrus; Amalfi lemon contributes bright peel, tart juice, and a sunlit Mediterranean freshness. Together, they form an elegant Italian citrus accord, fresh enough for the 1980s but rooted in traditional French perfumery.

Tunisian orange blossom gives the citrus a soft white-floral body. It smells waxy, honeyed, green, and warmly petal-like, with a faint indolic richness that makes it feel alive. Peach contributes a velvety, skin-like fruitiness—soft golden flesh, fuzzy peach skin, and a creamy sweetness. In perfume, peach is often an accord constructed from aroma chemicals, because the fresh fruit does not yield a practical essential oil. This created effect gives a fragrance a more lasting, luminous peach impression than the real fruit could provide.

Moroccan cassie adds a warmly spiced floral tone, somewhere between mimosa, cinnamon bark, dried hay, and yellow pollen. Cassie is valued in North African perfumery for its dense, honeyed, powdery richness; it makes the delicate flowers feel more sun-warmed and textural. Green notes bring crushed leaves, stems, sap, and fresh-cut foliage. They are generally constructed accords rather than one extract, and here they give the peach and orange blossom a living, garden-like freshness. Comoros basil adds a vivid aromatic leafiness with a slightly camphoraceous, clove-like warmth, while North African marigold, or tagetes, contributes sharp green herbs, yellow petals, bitter fruit, and a faint apple-like brightness. It prevents the opening from becoming too sweet or soft.

The heart begins with West Indian bay leaf, a true perfumery material from Pimenta racemosa, not the culinary bay leaf used in European cooking. Its distilled leaves have the warm, spicy, clove-dominant scent associated with traditional bay-rum aftershave, touched by pepper, cinnamon, and aromatic wood. West Indian bay is a key ingredient in classic bay-rum accords and is distilled from the tree’s leaves or berries. It gives Nina an unexpectedly aromatic, almost tailored character beneath the fruit and flowers.

Spanish mimosa adds soft yellow flowers, honey, powder, warm hay, and a gentle green-woody nuance. Mimosa absolute is obtained through solvent extraction and has a naturally velvety, intimate quality; it makes the bouquet feel like pollen caught in sunlight. Egyptian jasmine adds a deeper white-flower bloom—tea, cream, fruit, warm petals, and a discreetly animalic breath. Manila ylang-ylang drapes this floral heart in golden richness: creamy petals, banana-like fruit, spice, and a faintly narcotic sensuality. The Manila association recalls the Philippines, part of ylang-ylang’s native Southeast Asian range and an important place in the material’s early distillation history.

Bulgarian rose supplies the heart’s fresh pink floral radiance: petals, lemony brightness, honey, and a trace of spice. Rose oil from Bulgaria’s historic Rose Valley is prized for precisely this balance of clarity and richness. Tuscan violet, however, needs to be understood as a poetic or trade-style designation rather than a routine, readily available floral extract. The scent of violet petals is extraordinarily difficult to obtain; perfumers recreate it with violet-like aroma chemicals, particularly ionones, often supported by iris. These materials provide the powdery, slightly fruity, softly cosmetic effect of violet blossom. A natural violet-leaf extract, by contrast, smells green, watery, cucumber-like, and stemmy—not like sweet violet petals. Violet leaf absolute is extracted from leaves, not flowers, and has a damp green, vegetal character.

Florentine orris root completes the floral heart with one of perfumery’s most luxurious powdery notes. Its scent comes from aged iris rhizomes rather than iris blossoms, and the Florentine name reflects Tuscany’s historic iris-growing tradition. Orris smells buttery, violet-like, pale-woody, softly earthy, and faintly carrot-like. It supports the constructed violet note, softens the jasmine and rose, and creates the perfume’s graceful cosmetic-powder texture. It is the material that turns the floral heart into something distinctly Ricci: gentle, refined, and exquisitely finished.

The base begins with Mysore sandalwood, the traditional Indian Santalum album material known for its unusually creamy, milky, smooth, and persistent woodiness. It gives the perfume a warm, skin-soft foundation. Haitian vetiver adds a drier counterpoint of green grass, roots, pale wood, and restrained smoke; it is generally cleaner and less intensely smoky than Java vetiver, allowing it to harmonize with flowers and powder. Yugoslavian oakmoss supplies the classic chypre shadow—forest floor, damp bark, ink, leather, and a refined bitter-green depth.

Penang patchouli is best regarded as a historic Southeast Asian trade designation rather than a guarantee that every plant was grown on Penang itself, the important Malaysian port. Patchouli traditionally moved through regional trading routes from the Indonesian and Malay archipelago. Its scent is dark, earthy, woody, camphoraceous, and faintly sweet, adding depth beneath the delicate flowers. Tibetan musk and Ethiopian civet are historical animalic designations. In a vintage formula, each would have been used sparingly for warmth, sensuality, and persistence; today, ethical and regulatory concerns mean their effects are recreated with synthetic musks and civet-style accords. These modern materials provide clean, skin-like warmth and stability without animal origin.

Finally, Polish blackcurrant syrup gives Nina its dark-fruit signature: glossy blackcurrant berries, tangy purple juice, leaf, jam, and a faint wine-like sweetness. This is almost certainly an accord rather than a literal syrup in perfume, made with fruit, green-leaf, and berry-like aroma chemicals. The synthetic construction lets the blackcurrant remain vivid and lasting, rather than disappearing like fresh juice. It brings a darker, more sophisticated contrast to the peach and citrus—one final touch of fruit, moss, powder, and soft woods that makes the perfume feel both tender and quietly mysterious.

Product Line:

The Nina collection allowed the fragrance to be worn as a complete, softly layered ritual, from the private intimacy of parfum to the airy freshness of Eau de Toilette and scented body care. In every form, the perfume’s character would remain recognizably the same: bright aldehydes and citrus, soft peach and blackcurrant-like fruit, a refined floral-powder heart of orange blossom, mimosa, jasmine, rose, violet, and orris, and a quietly mossy foundation of sandalwood, vetiver, patchouli, musk, and oakmoss.

The 0.25-ounce, 0.5-ounce, and one-ounce Parfum bottles would offer the richest and most concentrated expression. Applied in a small dab, the parfum would reveal less of the brisk, fleeting citrus and more of the smooth floral and woody structure: peach softened by powder, orange blossom warmed by jasmine, violet and orris resting over sandalwood, moss, patchouli, musk, and dark blackcurrant syrup. The 0.25-ounce Parfum Purse Spray would present this same deep, intimate concentration in a finer mist, making it easier to refresh the fragrance discreetly during the day while allowing the floral-powdery character to settle gently on skin and clothing.

• 0.25 oz Parfum
• 0.5 oz Parfum
• 1 oz Parfum
• 0.25 oz Parfum Purse Spray

The 1.7-ounce Eau de Toilette splash would be the most traditional and freely used daytime form. Splashed on after bathing, it would emphasize the perfume’s fresh citrus, green leaves, aldehydes, basil, and fruit notes before becoming softly floral and mossy. The 1.7-ounce Eau de Toilette spray would feel more diffusive and luminous, creating a delicate cloud of orange blossom, peach, mimosa, violet, and pale woods around the wearer. The larger 3.3-ounce Eau de Toilette spray was ideal for regular use, allowing the wearer to enjoy the fragrance as an all-over, softly polished floral veil rather than as a concentrated point of parfum.

• 1.7 oz Eau de Toilette Splash
• 1.7 oz Eau de Toilette Spray
• 3.3 oz Eau de Toilette Spray

The 3.5-ounce perfumed soap would give the cleanest and most fleeting version of Nina: aldehydic brightness, citrus, soft florals, and a trace of green herbs carried through warm lather. The five-ounce perfumed body lotion would leave a lighter, silkier scent close to the skin, emphasizing the fresh fruit, orange blossom, mimosa, and clean musk aspects. It would be especially effective under Eau de Toilette, helping the citrus-floral effect last longer without adding the density of parfum.

• 3.5 oz Perfumed Soap
• 5 oz Perfumed Body Lotion

The seven-ounce perfumed dusting powder would draw out the perfume’s most elegant powdery facets. Its dry, velvety texture would amplify the orris, violet, mimosa, musk, sandalwood, and oakmoss, leaving the skin with a discreet floral-chypre softness. The five-ounce perfumed body cream would be richer and more enveloping than the lotion, making the peach, jasmine, rose, sandalwood, and moss feel creamier and warmer against the skin. It would be the ideal layer beneath Parfum, creating a more enduring and intimate version of Nina.

• 7 oz Perfumed Dusting Powder
• 5 oz Perfumed Body Cream
• 3.3 oz Perfumed Body Dry Oil Spray

Finally, the 3.3-ounce perfumed body dry-oil spray would provide the most sensual body treatment in the collection. Its light oil texture would leave the skin satiny rather than greasy, while bringing out the fragrance’s softer woody, musky, and fruity-floral elements: peach skin, creamy sandalwood, warm jasmine, blackcurrant, and clean musk. Used on arms, legs, or décolletage, it would make Nina feel less like a formal perfume and more like a luminous, perfumed second skin.

 

Limited Edition Flacon:

The limited-edition Nina flacon from Nina Ricci’s Or et Cristal collection, titled “Drapé Or,” reinterprets the original Nina bottle as a more theatrical object of crystal and gold. Created by Marie-Claude Lalique and signed, it retains the recognizable form of the original flacon but is transformed by the addition of rich gold enamel, applied like drapery around the clear crystal. The effect is both couture-like and sculptural: the gold appears to fold and flow across the bottle, recalling a gown gathered around the body while making the transparent glass seem even more luminous. It contains 30 ml of parfum extract, the most precious and concentrated presentation of the fragrance, and was issued in its own presentation box. As a signed Lalique limited edition, it is not merely packaging for Nina, but a collectible expression of the house’s long relationship with crystal, ornament, and feminine elegance.

Fate of the Fragrance: 

Discontinued, date unknown. 

The Nina name was recycled and launched as a completely different fragrance in 2007.