Originally launched in 1928 under the name Parfum N, Lucien Lelong’s fragrance was later rebranded for the American market in 1945 as Taglio—a name both striking and evocative. The choice of the word Taglio, pronounced TAHL-yoh, is deliberate and layered in meaning. It is derived from the Italian word for cut or carving, and is closely linked to the term intaglio, a technique in fine art and jewelry wherein a design is incised into a surface rather than raised in relief. This nuanced connection to craftsmanship and subtlety was echoed in the perfume’s packaging, which embraced the visual motif of carving or engraving, reinforcing a sense of refined artistry.
The name Taglio conjures a spectrum of images and emotions: precision, sophistication, and quiet strength. It suggests the controlled elegance of a sculptor’s hand or the refined gesture of tailoring—a metaphorical “cut” through the excess, leaving only what is essential and beautiful. The emotional resonance is one of understated luxury, a kind of poised confidence. In fragrance form, Taglio becomes a scent that is meticulously structured yet soft around the edges—like an engraved jewel worn close to the skin.
When Parfum N debuted in 1928, it emerged during the last years of the Roaring Twenties, an era defined by modernity, bold fashion, and a fervent embrace of glamour and innovation. Perfume houses were experimenting with aldehydes, musks, and exotic materials, influenced by the growing presence of abstract art and couture fashion. Women, freshly liberated in many Western societies, were seeking expressions of identity beyond the conventional. The original launch positioned Parfum N among the sophisticated, complex scents of the interwar period—when perfumery was becoming a language of modern elegance.
By 1945, the reintroduction of the perfume as Taglio marked a significant cultural shift. The world had just emerged from the devastation of World War II, and with it came a renewed desire for beauty, optimism, and luxury—albeit in more measured, subtle forms. This was the beginning of the Post-War Era, sometimes referred to as the New Look era, in fashion and design. Christian Dior would soon launch his legendary New Look in 1947, reviving femininity with nipped waists, voluminous skirts, and an emphasis on form and refinement—values that paralleled what Taglio embodied in olfactory terms.
The fragrance itself is described as a light, aldehydic floral with chypre notes, anchored by dry woods and enlivened with subtle spices. Aldehydes, which lend a shimmering, clean radiance to perfumes, were at the height of their popularity, especially following the success of Chanel No. 5. The chypre accord—a blend of bergamot, oakmoss, labdanum, and patchouli—grounded the fragrance in a classic structure, while the woods and spices lent depth and modernity.
In this context, Taglio was both timely and unique. While it followed the aldehydic floral trend of the time, it distinguished itself through its dry, chypre base and peppered nuances, making it more restrained and cerebral than the powdery, heavily floral compositions dominating department store counters. It was a perfume for a woman who sought quiet sophistication—who, like the name itself, had cut through the noise of the times to define her own elegance.
Women encountering Taglio in 1945 would likely have appreciated its duality—modern yet timeless, soft yet structured. The name alone might have resonated with women seeking clarity and form after years of wartime uncertainty. In scent, Taglio could be interpreted as a sculpted fragrance: layers of light and shadow, facets of floral sparkle juxtaposed against an earthy, warm base, with each element chiseled in place like a gemstone set in an intaglio seal.
Fragrance Composition:
So what does it smell like? Taglio by Lucien Lelong is classified as a light, aldehydic floral fragrance for women with chypre notes of dry woods and peppered with spices.
- Top notes: aldehyde C-10, aldehyde C-11, aldehyde C-12 MNA, Calabrian bergamot, Paraguayan petitgrain, Amalfi lemon, citral, Swiss lilac, lilacine, Macedonian fig leaf, Algerian narcissus, Jamaican nutmeg, Zanzibar cloves, isoeugenol, Chinese ginger, Persian galbanum, green accord, Mediterranean basil, Spanish tarragon, Italian thyme
- Middle notes: Szechuan cinnamon, West Indian pimento berry, French carnation, Egyptian jasmine, linalool, Portuguese tuberose absolute, Grasse heliotrope, heliotropin, peach lactone, lily of the valley, hydroxycitronellal, magnolia, Nossi-Be ylang ylang, Bulgarian rose, Florentine iris, Tuscan violet, ionone
- Base notes: black tea, Indonesian patchouli, Mysore sandalwood, Atlas cedar, Haitian vetiver, vetiveryl acetate, Yugoslavian oakmoss, ambergris, Tonkin musk, Abyssinian civet, Canadian castoreum, Maltese labdanum, Sumatran styrax, Peru balsam, Madagascar vanilla, vanillin, Siam benzoin, Venezuelan tonka bean, coumarin
Scent Profile:
The first impression of Taglio by Lucien Lelong is radiant—an olfactory etching in light. As the perfume unfurls, it evokes the shimmering facets of cut crystal, each angle catching a different glint of brightness and texture. This is a fragrance of refinement and precision, a composition so intricately carved that it feels sculpted in scent rather than merely composed.
The opening is dominated by an airy brilliance created by aldehydes—specifically C-10 (decanal), C-11 (undecanal), and C-12 MNA (methyl nonyl acetaldehyde). These materials do not mimic nature but rather magnify it: C-10 contributes a waxy lemon-skin brightness, while C-11 adds a metallic, champagne-like sheen. C-12 MNA is more diffusive and creamy, reminiscent of warm laundry on a spring day. Together, they lift the composition into an abstract, luminescent glow, allowing natural citrus to shine more vividly.
Calabrian bergamot, harvested from the sun-soaked southern coast of Italy, adds a tart, slightly floral bitterness that feels refined rather than fruity. The Amalfi lemon, sweeter and more aromatic, brings a zesty clarity that plays beautifully against citral, an aroma molecule that enhances lemon’s inherent zest and sharpness with a cleaner, more linear edge. Paraguayan petitgrain, distilled from the bitter orange leaves, provides a green-woody backbone—crisp and faintly herbal. It's paired with a nuanced green accord crafted from cis-3-hexenol, creating a crushed-leaf freshness like walking through a dewy garden at dawn.
Delicate floral tones begin to whisper into the composition with Swiss lilac, a cool, clean note more reminiscent of high-altitude spring air than powdery bouquets. This is subtly supported by lilacine, a synthetic note that captures lilac’s fleeting natural beauty and stabilizes it for longevity, lending a gentle, silvery floral haze. A rich, velvety green is introduced by Macedonian fig leaf, which smells like sap-drenched wood and the underside of sun-warmed leaves. Algerian narcissus brings a darker tone—sweet but feral, green yet waxy, with faint animalic edges.
The spice components follow in quick succession. Jamaican nutmeg is warm and slightly nutty, its dryness echoed in the warm, woody sharpness of Zanzibar cloves. Both are anchored by isoeugenol, a key clove-like aroma molecule used to extend and intensify the natural materials with more linearity and stability. Chinese ginger, spicy and lemony, adds a bright bite that lifts and energizes, while Persian galbanum is dense and green—resinous, almost bracing in its intensity. Threaded through this spicy-green prelude is a dash of herbaceous intrigue: Mediterranean basil, sweet and peppery; Spanish tarragon, anise-like and sharp; and Italian thyme, with its camphorous coolness. Together they give the top a fine herbal texture, like a garden breeze cutting through sunlight.
The heart unfolds like embroidered silk, each thread a flower in full bloom. French carnation opens first—spiced, clove-like, and warm. It segues into Egyptian jasmine, narcotic and heady, and into the buttery richness of Portuguese tuberose absolute, which smells simultaneously of honeyed cream and green stems. Linalool, naturally present in many florals, enhances the bright, slightly citrusy lift of the bouquet and improves diffusion. Grasse heliotrope offers a soft, powdery almond facet, anchored by heliotropin, the primary molecule responsible for heliotrope’s creamy, vanillic quality. These sweet facets are deepened by peach lactone (gamma-undecalactone), a warm, fuzzy-skin fruitiness that adds body and a tactile softness to the floral heart.
Lily of the valley, though notoriously shy in natural form, is rebuilt through hydroxycitronellal, which delivers a clean, dew-kissed muguet note with light citrus-green sparkle. Magnolia contributes a creamy, lemony petaliness, while Nossi-Bé ylang ylang from the island off Madagascar is intensely floral—rich, slightly smoky, and laden with tropical opulence. Bulgarian rose brings a jammy, full-bodied richness that anchors the composition, balanced by the earthier, more nuanced tones of Tuscan violet, enhanced with ionone molecules that deliver a violet-leaf smoothness and an ethereal, woody-powdery finish. Finally, Florentine iris adds a cool, suede-like texture—dry, rooty, and faintly metallic—casting a pale shimmer over the floral opulence.
The drydown of Taglio is contemplative and warm, like the quiet confidence left after a passionate conversation. Black tea anchors the base, adding a tannic dryness and subtle smokiness. This is supported by Indonesian patchouli, with its earthy, chocolatey depth, and Mysore sandalwood, a now-rare material prized for its buttery, lactonic warmth and sacred creaminess. Atlas cedar, sharp and pencil-like, gives structure, while Haitian vetiver, grassy and dry, is softened with vetiveryl acetate, a smoother, more refined version of vetiver that prolongs the woodiness with a velvety touch.
The chypre accord takes root here with Yugoslavian oakmoss, bitter, forest-like, and slightly damp, balanced against the warm, golden balsamic tones of Maltese labdanum and Sumatran styrax. Peru balsam adds a touch of cinnamon-vanilla warmth that connects base to heart. Ambergris, once collected from the ocean, brings a salty, skin-like warmth that seems to radiate from within, while Tonkin musk, Abyssinian civet, and Canadian castoreum lend their animalic touch in the subtlest of amounts—more texture than growl—giving the perfume its unmistakably human warmth and sensuality.
The final notes are edible, soft, and glowing: Madagascar vanilla, rich and boozy; vanillin, enhancing the sweetness with creamy persistence; Siam benzoin, with its amber-honey softness; and Venezuelan tonka bean, filled with almond and hay notes. Coumarin wraps it all with a whisper of sun-warmed hay and nutty smoothness, leaving a dry, softly spiced trace that lingers long after the scent has faded from the skin. Taglio, then, is more than a perfume—it is an engraved memory. Light, aldehydic and floral at the outset, deeply structured with chypre woods and soft spices, it reflects its name in every facet. Like intaglio carving, it is a study in precision and permanence—a scent that leaves an impression as lasting as the engraved surface of a fine stone.
Motion Picture, 1946:
"Taglio, a sparkling new Lucien Lelong perfume, exquisitely packaged. $19 and $28."
Bottles:
While the perfume Taglio by Lucien Lelong radiated refinement through its composition, its presentation was equally deliberate—merging postwar minimalism with futuristic elegance. The bottle itself was understated in its form: a slim, rectangular flacon of clear crystal, clean and architectural in its lines. Molded into the glass was Lelong’s iconic double L logo, a signature of the house. For Taglio, however, a notable modification was made—a fine rectangular frame was added around the logo, giving it the appearance of an engraving within a modernist panel. This subtle touch transformed what had originally been the same bottle used for Lelong’s earlier fragrance Elle Elle into a bespoke vessel for Taglio, evoking the structural clarity of the perfume’s name and inspiration.
Topping the bottle was a flat, rectangular ground glass stopper, perfectly flush with the bottle’s profile. It created a monolithic silhouette, like a crystal column rising from a plinth—sleek, cool, and undeniably refined. Yet as beautifully restrained as the bottle was, the true visual drama lay in its presentation case, a groundbreaking example of postwar design innovation and cross-disciplinary collaboration.
The box that encased Taglio was no ordinary container. Crafted from a combination of metalized and flocked acetate sheeting, it sparkled with a texture that resembled shimmering bubbles suspended in ice. This unique material—Celanese's "Lumarith" cellulose acetate—was specially treated using a process developed by Emile Norman, a California-based artist and designer known for his use of resin, plastic, and embedded materials in architectural art. The frosted effect, created by piercing the acetate with hot needles to form tiny bubble-like holes, gave the surface a delicate, glacial quality—ethereal and tactile.
The same decorative theme was echoed in the matching dusting powder box, unifying the presentation across product forms. The perfume box and the powder box were injection molded by Southern California Plastic Molding Co., but it was Norman’s studio that carried out the specialized decorative process. Since traditional fabrication proved impractical for mass production, the design required not only new techniques but a new material composition. To receive the frostlike treatment successfully, Celanese Plastics Corp. developed a custom formula of cellulose acetate—available in both sheeting and molding powder. The sheets Norman worked with typically ranged in thickness from .004 to .008 inches, allowing for a subtle diffusion of light through the layers, and enhancing the box’s translucent, otherworldly sheen.
Atop the clear acetate lid sat perhaps the most whimsical detail: a four-sided enclosure resembling a miniature roof garden, housing tiny artificial flowers. It gave the entire box the illusion of being a modernist building—a glass tower crowned with a verdant garden terrace. In this, the presentation of Taglio became more than packaging; it was a physical metaphor for the fragrance itself. The name Taglio, derived from intaglio—the art of engraving or carving into surface—was echoed in both the bottle’s framed logo and the textural treatment of the box. The whole ensemble stood as a celebration of light, transparency, and architectural precision.
Rarely has a fragrance so beautifully married its scent to its visual identity. In both design and execution, Taglio reflected the optimism of the late 1940s and early 1950s—an era defined by experimentation in materials, modernist form, and a desire to move forward with clarity and grace.
Taglio Parfum Bottles:
- Ref. No.1 - 0.25 oz Parfum bottle stands 1.75" tall.
- Ref. No. 2 - 0.5 oz Parfum - bottle stands 2" tall.
- Ref. No. 3 - 1 oz Parfum - bottle stands 2.25" tall.
- Ref. No. 3A (also known as Ref. No. 10) - 1.5 oz Parfum - bottle stands 2.75" tall.
- 2 oz bottle stands 3" tall.
- 7 oz Parfum bottle stands 4.25" tall.
Modern Packaging, 1945:
"Lucien Lelong has the cosmetic world agog with the glamourous transparent container for his Taglio perfume. This is made of acetate, but everybody is asking, "How do they put those tiny bubbles in the plastic? ..."
Modern Packaging, 1947:
"The success of Lucien Lelong's Taglio perfume in a transparent acetate container which appears to be full of frosty bubbles, has prompted the introduction of a line of additional cosmetics in similar packaging."
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