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.
