Maskee by Ciro c1923

Launched in 1923, Maskée by Ciro embodied the electrifying energy of Carnival, a time of masked revelry, music, and unrestrained joy. The name Maskée is derived from the French word "masqué" (pronounced mah-SKAY), meaning "masked"—a fitting title for a perfume inspired by the world of masquerades, revelry, and hidden identities. The name itself conjures images of elaborate Venetian masks, swirling silk gowns, and candlelit ballrooms, where intrigue and passion unfold behind veiled disguises. Maskée was designed to transport its wearer into a world of fantasy, where the boundaries of reality and illusion blurred, much like the intoxicating effect of a Carnival night.

Ciro’s choice to infuse Maskée with the spirit of Carnival was a bold and imaginative move. Carnival is renowned for its vibrant excess, dazzling costumes, and intoxicating atmosphere, making it the perfect inspiration for a perfume meant to exude "a gay, reckless odeur," as contemporary advertisements described it. This was an era when women were stepping into new freedoms—flappers were dancing in jazz clubs, hemlines were rising, and the old constraints of Edwardian propriety were being cast aside. Maskée would have appealed to this modern, adventurous woman—one who was not afraid to embrace excitement, glamour, and even a hint of mischief.

Oh La La by Ciro c1959

Launched in 1959, Oh La La by Ciro was a fragrance that encapsulated the allure, romance, and effortless chic of Parisian style. The name itself—"Oh La La"—is a French expression, pronounced "ooh la la," used to convey surprise, admiration, or delight. Evocative of flirtation, elegance, and a touch of mischief, the phrase suggests an air of playful sophistication, perfectly suited to a perfume that aimed to capture the fantasy of Parisian romance in a bottle. By choosing this name, Ciro aligned the fragrance with the timeless allure of France, a country long revered as the epicenter of haute couture, luxury, and refined femininity.

The late 1950s was a period of transformation, a bridge between the refined post-war elegance of the early decade and the bolder, more liberated styles of the 1960s. The era was defined by the rise of cinematic glamour, with icons like Brigitte Bardot, Audrey Hepburn, and Sophia Loren epitomizing beauty and sophistication. In fashion, Christian Dior’s "New Look" silhouette still influenced women’s wardrobes, emphasizing nipped-in waists, voluminous skirts, and ultra-feminine tailoring, though by 1959, sleeker, more streamlined looks—like those by Hubert de Givenchy and Balenciaga—were gaining popularity. Perfumes of this time were reflections of femininity, sensuality, and luxury, designed to complement the poised yet smoldering woman of the era.

Oh La La’s fragrance composition was a study in contrasts, much like the paradoxes of Paris itself—both sophisticated and sultry, reserved yet undeniably romantic. The top notes opened with a brilliant aldehydic sparkle, creating an effervescent, champagne-like effect that immediately evoked the glimmering lights of Paris at night. A burst of citrus lent freshness and vitality, setting the stage for the unfolding drama of the heart notes. Here, the classic duo of rose and jasmine, two of perfumery’s most iconic florals, took center stage. Rich, velvety rose from Grasse provided a deep, romantic warmth, while the sensual, narcotic jasmine added an air of mystery, its white floral opulence tempered by the faintest whisper of spice. This delicate hint of warmth suggested intimacy, evoking the soft heat of candlelit dinners, stolen glances, and whispered rendezvous.

Surrender by Ciro c1932

Launched in 1932, Surrender by Ciro arrived during a time of immense transition and resilience. The name itself, Surrender, is evocative—derived from the Old French surrendre, meaning "to give up, deliver over" and ultimately from the Latin rendere, "to give back." In English, surrender can imply yielding, giving in to emotion, passion, or an irresistible force. This name suggests a fragrance that invites complete immersion—perhaps a surrender to beauty, to romance, or to the fleeting intoxication of a white floral dream. The word conjures images of moonlit gardens, whispered confessions, and the kind of irresistible allure that one cannot fight. There is a softness in the surrender, not one of defeat but of willing abandon, of yielding to something greater than oneself—perhaps love, perhaps desire, or simply the pleasures of fragrance itself.

The early 1930s were defined by both glamour and struggle. The world was deep in the throes of the Great Depression, a period of economic hardship that followed the exuberance of the Roaring Twenties. Despite financial challenges, luxury and escapism remained central themes in fashion and beauty. Hollywood’s Golden Age flourished, offering an escape from reality through silver-screen starlets like Jean Harlow and Marlene Dietrich, who exuded an untouchable, polished beauty. Evening gowns of bias-cut silk clung to the body like liquid, mirroring the fluid sensuality of surrender itself. Daywear became more refined, with elegant tailoring, high necklines, and sculpted silhouettes that gave women an air of power, even as society itself was shifting.

Perfume during this era reflected a need for both comfort and seduction. While opulent fragrances of the 1920s—laden with heavy aldehydes and intoxicating florals—still lingered, the 1930s saw a shift toward softer, more delicate compositions. Surrender fits seamlessly into this transformation, offering a lighter, airier floral with an oriental warmth that made it ideal for warmer weather. The choice of magnolia as its central note evokes a timeless femininity—lush, lemony, yet creamy and soft. This was a scent that suggested romance, sophistication, and quiet strength, qualities that resonated deeply with the women of the time.

Ptah by Ciro c1923

Launched in 1923, Ptah by Ciro arrived at the height of Egyptomania, a cultural phenomenon ignited by the discovery of King Tutankhamun’s tomb in 1922 by British archaeologist Howard Carter. The name Ptah (pronounced "Puh-tah") was a deliberate nod to ancient Egyptian mystique and power, chosen to align with the era’s fascination with the grandeur of the past. In Egyptian mythology, Ptah was one of the most important gods, a creator deity associated with art, craftsmanship, and rebirth. Often depicted as a mummified figure wearing a skullcap, holding a scepter, Ptah was revered as the divine architect of the universe, a god of creation and transformation. The subtitle "King of Them All" further emphasized its majesty, suggesting that Ptah was not merely another fragrance but a ruler among perfumes, a scent of unparalleled distinction.

The 1920s were defined by a relentless pursuit of modernity, but alongside the rush toward the future, there was an insatiable curiosity for the past—particularly the exotic and mysterious world of ancient Egypt. The discovery of Tutankhamun’s tomb sent shockwaves through popular culture, influencing fashion, jewelry, architecture, and, of course, perfumery. Egyptian motifs—lotuses, scarabs, sphinxes, hieroglyphics, and gold accents—appeared on everything from evening gowns to Art Deco perfume bottles. The era’s most stylish women, including socialites and Hollywood actresses, embraced Egyptian-inspired beauty, drawing kohl-rimmed eyes in the likeness of Cleopatra and adorning themselves with beaded headdresses and exotic jewelry.

Fragrance was an essential part of this aesthetic, and Ptah was perfectly positioned to embody this mystical, regal allure. The very name evoked images of an ancient world steeped in ceremony and splendor—the burning of resins in gilded temples, floral offerings laid at the feet of gods, the scent of rare oils perfuming the air of royal chambers. It was a fragrance that whispered of power, mystery, and eternal beauty, capturing the fantasy of a civilization both long-lost and yet newly rediscovered.

New Horizons by Ciro c1941

Launched in 1941, New Horizons by Ciro was more than just a perfume—it was a message of hope during one of history’s darkest times. Created amidst the turmoil of World War II, this fragrance sought to uplift the spirits of American women, reminding them that brighter days were ahead. Unlike many perfumes of the era, which often bore French names to evoke luxury and sophistication, New Horizons was deliberately named in English, making its meaning immediate and accessible. The phrase "New Horizons" speaks of possibility, fresh starts, and boundless opportunities. In layman’s terms, it can be understood as looking toward a brighter future, a world beyond the present struggles. 

The words New Horizons evoke a powerful emotional and visual response. They conjure images of a sun rising over an open landscape, vast and full of potential. The phrase speaks to resilience, renewal, and optimism, themes that were deeply significant to the women of the early 1940s. With the world at war, families were separated, men were called to battle, and women took on new roles in the workforce, often in factories and offices, supporting the war effort while managing households alone. Rationing affected everything from food to luxury goods, and the uncertainty of the future weighed heavily. Yet, amidst this hardship, there was also a sense of strength and perseverance—a belief that, beyond the struggle, there would be victory and peace. New Horizons was a fragrance designed to encapsulate that very sentiment: a small luxury that provided comfort, beauty, and the promise of a future filled with possibility.

Doux Jasmin by Ciro c1923

In 1923, Doux Jasmin was introduced as part of Ciro’s early collection, a testament to the timeless elegance of jasmine. The name itself, pronounced doo zhahs-MAH in French, translates to “Sweet Jasmine”, immediately conjuring images of soft, velvety white petals glistening with dew in the moonlight. The word doux (sweet) suggests a fragrance that is tender, smooth, and comforting—an olfactory whisper of delicacy and romance. Jasmine, revered for its intoxicating floral depth, had long been a staple in perfumery, symbolizing sensuality, opulence, and femininity. By naming the perfume Doux Jasmin, Ciro evoked an image of pure, radiant beauty, much like the jasmine flower itself—delicate yet powerful, soft yet intoxicating.

The early 1920s, often referred to as the Roaring Twenties, marked a period of radical transformation. The world was emerging from the shadows of World War I, and a newfound sense of liberation and modernity was taking hold. Women, having gained the right to vote in the U.S. in 1920, were redefining their roles in society. The era embraced flapper culture, with women cutting their hair into chic bobbed styles, shedding restrictive corsets for loose, beaded dresses, and reveling in jazz-filled nightlife. The Art Deco movement flourished, influencing design, fashion, and fragrance bottles alike, with its bold geometric patterns and a fascination with luxury.

Within this landscape, Doux Jasmin would have appealed to both traditionalists and modern women alike. For some, it was a reminder of classic Victorian and Edwardian-era floral perfumes, steeped in the refinement of French perfumery traditions. For others, it was a way to embrace sensuality in a sophisticated, wearable way—a single floral soliflore that was simple yet undeniably elegant. At a time when perfumes were shifting from heavier animalic and powdery compositions toward fresher, lighter florals, Doux Jasmin aligned with the trend yet maintained a sense of timeless romance.

Acclaim by Ciro c1950

Acclaim by Ciro was introduced in 1950, marking the brand’s first new fragrance release in nearly a decade. The choice of the name "Acclaim" was undoubtedly deliberate, evoking a sense of prestige, recognition, and admiration. The word itself originates from the Latin acclamare, meaning "to cry out in approval" or "to praise enthusiastically." In English, "acclaim" is associated with public applause and high regard, suggesting a fragrance meant to command attention and admiration. The name conjures images of triumph, elegance, and celebration, making it an alluring proposition for the sophisticated woman of the era.

The 1950s was a transformative period, often referred to as the beginning of the "Golden Age" following the hardships of World War II. The war had ended in 1945, and by 1950, many countries, particularly the United States, were experiencing economic growth, a baby boom, and a return to traditional values. Fashion was undergoing a dramatic shift—Christian Dior had introduced the "New Look" in 1947, characterized by nipped-in waists, full skirts, and an emphasis on femininity. Women were embracing glamour, elegance, and a renewed sense of luxury, leaving behind the utilitarian styles of the war years. Perfume, as an essential part of a woman’s toilette, reflected this change, with compositions becoming more opulent and sophisticated.

For a woman of the early 1950s, a fragrance named "Acclaim" would have embodied both personal allure and societal recognition. Women were expected to present themselves with grace and refinement, and a perfume with such a bold, aspirational name would have been an enticing addition to their beauty ritual. It would have suggested confidence, sophistication, and the promise of leaving a lasting impression.

Reflexions by Ciro c1933

Launched in 1933, Reflexions by Ciro carries a name that invites thought, introspection, and an engagement with both the external world and one’s inner self. The word "Reflexions" is derived from the Latin reflexio, meaning "bending back" or "turning back on itself." It is the French spelling of the English "Reflections," pronounced reh-FLEK-see-ohn in its native tongue. It evokes imagery of mirrored surfaces, dappled light on water, flickering thoughts, and the quiet introspection that comes with deep contemplation. There is a duality in the name—it suggests both the literal reflection of light and a more philosophical self-examination, making it a fitting title for a fragrance that is both natural and cerebral.

The year 1933 was a time of transition and contrast. The world was still reeling from the effects of the Great Depression, and while economic hardship had reshaped daily life, there was also a hunger for escapism, refinement, and quiet luxury. The early 1930s marked the tail end of Art Deco’s bold geometry and opulence, shifting toward softer, more streamlined silhouettes in fashion. Bias-cut gowns in silk and satin draped elegantly over the body, while feminine, nature-inspired prints and accessories replaced the rigid embellishments of the 1920s. Perfume, too, reflected this shift—moving away from the heady, extravagant florals of the Roaring Twenties and embracing more natural, atmospheric compositions.

For a woman in 1933, Reflexions would have felt modern yet timeless, a fragrance that spoke to both her desire for connection with nature and her innate sophistication. It was a time when women were increasingly asserting their independence—whether through careers, travel, or personal style—and Reflexions catered to this evolving identity. Its slightly aldehydic, aromatic fougère composition was bold, fresh, and outdoorsy, a departure from overly powdery or overtly sweet perfumes. The name itself suggested an elegance of the mind, appealing to the intellectual, artistic woman who sought a scent that mirrored her complexity and refinement.

Danger by Ciro c1938

Launched in 1938, Danger by Ciro was a perfume that carried an air of intrigue, seduction, and unapologetic boldness. The choice of the name Danger was undoubtedly deliberate—Ciro was known for crafting evocative names that captured the essence of their fragrances. The word Danger originates from Old French dangier, meaning "power, authority, peril," derived from Latin dominium ("ownership, control"). It conveys both risk and allure, the tantalizing pull of the forbidden. In a fragrance, Danger suggests an intoxicating composition—one that exudes confidence, sensuality, and perhaps even a touch of recklessness. The name alone would have sparked curiosity, appealing to a woman who saw herself as daring, mysterious, and alluring.

By the late 1930s, the world was on the brink of immense change. Europe stood at the precipice of World War II, and tensions were rising across the globe. Despite this, or perhaps because of it, fashion and beauty remained a source of escapism. The Art Deco movement was fading, giving way to the glamour and sophistication of Hollywood's Golden Age. Women wore tailored suits with broad shoulders, nipped-in waists, and dramatic, structured hats. Evening gowns were elegant and fluid, often in rich jewel tones or deep, mysterious blacks, exuding refinement and power. Makeup trends emphasized strong red lips and dramatic, arched brows, echoing the confidence and bold femininity of the time. Against this backdrop, a perfume called Danger would have felt thrilling and seductive, perfect for a woman who commanded attention and refused to be demure.

What does Danger smell like? If it were to embody its name in scent, it would be bold, intoxicating, and deeply sensual—a fragrance that leaves a lasting impression. The dominant lavender note introduces an unexpected contrast, a cool, slightly camphoraceous freshness against the dark sensuality of musk and civet. Lavender, often associated with masculine colognes, would have made Danger feel daring for a woman to wear, reinforcing the sense of mystery and power.