The name Stradivari is Italian, pronounced "Strad-ah-VAH-ree", and it immediately conjures one of the most hallowed legacies in classical music. Named in homage to the famed luthier Antonio Stradivari—whose violins and cellos are revered for their exquisite craftsmanship and soul-stirring tone—the perfume nods to this artistry in scent form. It also takes inspiration from the Prince Matchabelli Orchestra, formed the same year the fragrance was launched, further anchoring it in the brand’s romantic alignment with music and the arts. To wear Stradivari was to don an invisible symphony—one composed not in strings, but in scent.
The fragrance is classified as a semi-oriental floral, with prominent woody and spicy notes over a mossy base. In perfumery, the term "semi-oriental" during this period often indicated a chypre-adjacent structure—dry and elegant, but laced with warmth and sensuality. Stradivari opens with a flourish of heady florals and soft spice, slowly developing into a woodier, duskier base with a slightly exotic, lingering finish. It was described as “rich, lasting, destined for the woman of deep emotion”—a statement that placed it squarely in the lineage of expressive, personality-driven scents, as opposed to light, fleeting florals.
Women of the 1940s would have related deeply to such a perfume. Stradivari offered something emotionally resonant—a scent that suggested intelligence, depth, and longing, much like the music it was named for. While many wartime fragrances leaned into pragmatism and freshness, Stradivari dared to be poetic. It didn’t just accessorize a moment—it gave it a melody.
In the broader landscape of 1940s perfumery, Stradivari was both timely and distinct. The chypre and oriental genres were gaining popularity, but Stradivari softened their boldest aspects with a musical tenderness that made it unique. Rather than broadcasting glamour or seduction, it whispered longing, complexity, and memory—making it one of Matchabelli’s most quietly moving compositions.
Fragrance Composition:
So what does it smell like? Stradivari by Prince Matchabelli is classified as semi-oriental (chypre) floral fragrance for women with dominant woody and spicy notes against a mossy background.
- Top notes: aldehyde C-10, aldehyde C-11, aldehyde C-12 MNA, Calabrian bergamot, Sicilian lemon oil, Paraguayan petitgrain, Jamaican bay laurel oil, Malabar black pepper oil, Jamaican nutmeg, Zanzibar cloves, Russian coriander, Saigon cinnamon, Jamaican allspice, Indonesian nutmeg, isoeugenol, methyl eugenol
- Middle notes: Hungarian clary sage, Provencal lavender, Mediterranean hyssop, rosemary, marjoram and savory, Comoros basil, Italian thyme, French carnation, Grasse rose, Riviera jasmine, French linden blossom absolute, Madagascar ylang ylang, Veronese orris, Sudanese myrrh, Omani frankincense, Turkish styrax
- Base notes: Tyrolean oakmoss, Siam benzoin, Cyprus labdanum, South American tolu balsam, East Indian vetiver, vetiveryl acetate, Singapore patchouli, Mysore sandalwood, ambergris, Virginian cedar, Canadian castoreum, Tibetan musk, musk ketone, musk xylene, guaiacol, eugenyl acetate
Scent Profile:
You open the flacon of Stradivari by Prince Matchabelli, and what rises is not merely a scent—it is an overture. The perfume begins in a dazzling burst of aldehydes, most prominently C-10, C-11, and C-12 MNA, each contributing its own character: waxy, citrusy, and ethereal. These molecules are airy but not without presence; they lift the composition into light and shimmer, creating the olfactory impression of silk moving in sunlight. The aldehydes usher in the top notes with a radiance that amplifies and diffuses the spicy and citrus elements that follow.
Bright and bitter Calabrian bergamot and tart, sparkling Sicilian lemon oil provide a sunny counterpoint to the aldehydic shimmer, their Mediterranean brilliance fresh but grounded. Paraguayan petitgrain, distilled from the bitter orange leaves and twigs, offers a crisp green sharpness, almost peppery, acting as a bridge to the spices. And then the true drama begins: Jamaican bay laurel oil wafts upward with a darkly spicy, almost clove-like complexity, underscored by the smoky heat of Malabar black pepper and the aromatic sweetness of Saigon cinnamon.
The pungent, woody sharpness of Zanzibar cloves, the warmth of Jamaican nutmeg, and the dry, musky facets of Russian coriander swirl into the blend with the hot-cool interplay of Jamaican allspice and Indonesian nutmeg—layered and nuanced. The inclusion of methyl eugenol and isoeugenol sharpens this spicy bouquet, lending both warmth and a velvety softness that animates the natural clove and carnation tones. These molecules extend the spicy heart while tempering the rougher edges of the naturals, giving it roundness and lift.
As the top accord settles, Stradivari’s heart unfurls into a complex garden of herbal and floral elements. Hungarian clary sage introduces a musky, green herbal note that melds seamlessly with the fragrant clarity of Provençal lavender and the wild, bitter edge of Mediterranean hyssop. Rosemary, marjoram, savory, and Italian thyme combine in a bracingly aromatic herbaceous chord—dry, crisp, almost medicinal, grounding the floral sweetness to come.
At the center, Grasse carnation—spicy and creamy—sings beside Grasse rose and Riviera jasmine, both rich and heady, petals steeped in sun. These are supported by the honeyed delicacy of French linden blossom absolute and the creamy, tropical sweetness of Madagascar ylang ylang, which gives the heart a soft, radiant depth. The green-leafy powder of Veronese orris adds elegance and violet-like grace. And from the east, sacred resins arrive: Sudanese myrrh, earthy and balsamic; Omani frankincense, citrus-resinous and cool; and the leathery sweetness of Turkish styrax—incense notes that recall shadowed cathedrals and timeless ritual.
The base is where Stradivari reveals its depth and endurance, a profound chypre structure of moss, resin, and animalic warmth. Tyrolean oakmoss brings its signature inky bitterness, laced with damp forest nuance. Cyprus labdanum, Siam benzoin, and South American tolu balsam provide the resinous counterpoint—ambery, sticky-sweet, and deeply tenacious. East Indian vetiver, dark and rooty, merges with vetiveryl acetate, its refined, smoother cousin, to ground the base in smoky verdancy.
Here we also find Singapore patchouli, earthy and slightly chocolatey, lending fullness, and the creamy, woody splendor of Mysore sandalwood, its historic variety prized for its smoothness and depth. Ambergris, in tinctured form, offers salty, marine warmth and helps fuse all elements into a seamless whole. Animalic grace comes from Canadian castoreum, leathery and sensual, and Tibetan musk, which along with musk ketone and musk xylene, adds powdery, long-lasting softness.
Virginian cedar and guaiacol bring a dry, smoky woodiness, while eugenyl acetate, a cousin of eugenol, deepens the spiced heart and ties it back to the carnation and clove that sing throughout. It is, in the end, a symphony of warmth, complexity, and haunting beauty.
Stradivari is not merely a fragrance—it is an echo of deep emotion. Its name, like the instruments of the master luthier it evokes, speaks of richness, craftsmanship, and an ability to stir the soul. In the twilight of war-era austerity, this perfume stood as a monument to inner romanticism, to bold femininity, and to the lasting power of scent as song.
Bottles:
LIFE, 1948:
"STRADIVARI PERFUME — It puts a love song in a woman's heart! Rich, lasting, destined for the woman of deep emotion. $7.50 to $ 15. Miniature crowns, $3."
The New Yorker, 1954:
"Like Matchabelli's Stradivari. A haunting woody note with overtones of the exotic. Both the Perfume and Cologne available at better perfume counters. Stradivari Cologne Parfumee with gift crown of matching Perfume."
Fate of the Fragrance:
Launched in 1942, Stradivari by Prince Matchabelli marked a poignant return to perfumery amid the global uncertainty of World War II. It was the first new fragrance the company introduced since the outbreak of war, and its timing—paired with its evocative name—was no accident. In a world disrupted by chaos and rationing, Stradivari was a deliberate gesture toward beauty, culture, and emotional depth. Named after the famed violin maker Antonio Stradivari, and likely inspired by the formation of the Prince Matchabelli Orchestra that same year, the perfume sought to evoke music's power to comfort, inspire, and transcend.
The name Stradivari conjured images of craftsmanship, old-world artistry, and emotion played in minor keys—qualities echoed in the perfume's composition. It was a semi-oriental (often understood as a softer form of chypre) floral blend with dominant woody and spicy undertones against a mossy base. This combination gave Stradivari an air of haunting elegance: it was rich and lingering, tailored for women who gravitated toward introspective beauty and emotional complexity.
Through the 1940s and into the 1950s, Stradivari remained a staple of refined femininity, praised for its depth and memorable sillage. It was especially beloved as a winter fragrance—suited to furs, opera coats, and dramatic evening wear. Its blend of aldehydic shimmer, piquant spice, dusky florals, and a grounding of oakmoss and sandalwood set it apart from the sugary florals and powdery blends dominating much of the postwar market.
By 1968, Stradivari was still being sold, a testament to its enduring appeal in an industry constantly chasing novelty. Though quietly discontinued sometime afterward, it remains one of Matchabelli’s most sophisticated offerings—less famous than others, perhaps, but deeply loved by those who experienced its warm, orchestral complexity. It endures as a fragrant artifact of wartime resilience and artistic aspiration.