Le Roy Soleil by Schiaparelli c1946

Launched in 1946, Le Roy Soleil by Elsa Schiaparelli was far more than just a perfume—it was a symbolic gesture, a fragrant tribute to triumph and cultural rebirth. Created to commemorate the end of World War II and the liberation of Paris, the fragrance emerged in a world hungry for beauty, hope, and a return to elegance. The name Le Roy Soleil—an archaic French spelling of Le Roi Soleil, meaning The Sun King—was a deliberate nod to France’s golden age under Louis XIV. Pronounced roughly “luh rwah soh-LAY,” the name conjures immediate associations with opulence, grandeur, and power. It evokes imagery of radiant sunlight flooding the gilded halls of Versailles, of baroque artistry, theatricality, and a flourishing of the arts. For French women, who had endured years of war-time austerity, the name itself must have been thrilling—a promise of restored splendor and national pride.

The choice to invoke The Sun King—Louis XIV—was deeply intentional. Louis XIV is one of France’s most iconic monarchs, ruling from 1643 to 1715 and transforming the French court into a dazzling center of culture and sophistication. His image was synonymous with absolute power and lavish taste; he built Versailles into a symbol of royal magnificence and presided over a golden age of French art, fashion, and perfume. By invoking his persona, Schiaparelli tied her creation to an idealized vision of French identity, reclaiming a past era of aesthetic dominance at a moment when France was healing from occupation and destruction.

In terms of historical context, the perfume was launched during what is now referred to as the immediate post-war period—La Libération in France. Fashion was beginning to revive, with designers like Christian Dior preparing to launch what would soon become known as The New Look in 1947: rounded shoulders, cinched waists, and voluminous skirts—a rejection of wartime utility and rationing in favor of unapologetic femininity and luxury. In perfumery, there was a similar shift; the era welcomed richer, more opulent compositions that felt indulgent and escapist. Le Roy Soleil, classified as a sweet oriental, embodied this return to sensuality and warmth, offering a bouquet of exotic richness that felt both triumphant and comforting.

Sleeping by Schiaparelli c1938

Sleeping by Schiaparelli, launched in 1938, was more than a fragrance—it was a whispered lullaby for a world on the brink. Created by the irreverent and visionary couturière Elsa Schiaparelli, the perfume arrived during a charged moment in time: the late interwar period, when the bold, rule-breaking creativity of the 1930s brushed up against the looming shadow of the Second World War. This was an era of contradiction—of modernist triumphs and surrealist dreams, but also of escalating geopolitical anxiety and social upheaval. Women of the period were shedding the last remnants of Edwardian constraint and embracing independence, expression, and complexity—both in fashion and in fragrance.

Schiaparelli, who was deeply influenced by the Surrealist movement and often collaborated with artists such as Salvador Dalí and Jean Cocteau, understood the profound power of suggestion, whimsy, and symbolism. To name a perfume "Sleeping" was a deliberate poetic gesture. The word itself, derived from Old English slǣpan, means to rest or to be in a state of suspended animation. But in Schiaparelli’s hands, it becomes evocative—more than just unconsciousness. It conjures images of enchantment, reverie, innocence, and erotic mystery. One might think of Sleeping Beauty, suspended in time, awaiting a kiss; or the surrealist notion of sleep as the door to the subconscious and the fantastical.

The emotional resonance of the word "Sleeping" in 1938 would have felt simultaneously comforting and provocative. In a world edging toward darkness, to wear a scent named Sleeping was to retreat into a private, fragrant dream—a sensual, personal world untethered from the anxiety of headlines. For modern women increasingly negotiating the dualities of domestic life and public engagement, "Sleeping" might have represented a secret space, one of intimacy and psychological depth.