Opening Night by Lucien Lelong (1934)

Launched in 1934, Lucien Lelong’s La Première entered the fragrance world during a moment of cultural elegance and cinematic escape. Originally introduced under this French name—La Première (pronounced lah preh-MYER), meaning "The First" or “The Premiere”—the fragrance was poised to celebrate both the glamour of a grand debut and the sophisticated poise of a woman stepping into the spotlight. However, a complication arose when it was prepared for release in the American market: another perfume company, De Hériot, had already secured the name La Première for a different fragrance in the U.S. As a result, Lelong's perfume was rebranded as Opening Night for American audiences, and Orage (oh-RAHZH, meaning "storm" in French) for distribution in Canada and the U.K.

Each name—La Première, Opening Night, and Orage—carries a distinct emotional and visual character, yet all are deeply theatrical in tone. La Première suggests elegance, precedence, and a moment of poised arrival. It conjures the image of a woman entering a theater or ballroom just as the curtain is about to rise. Opening Night retains that same sense of anticipation and spectacle, echoing the hushed excitement of an audience waiting in the velvet-lined dark. In contrast, Orage, meaning “storm,” shifts the mood. It evokes a sudden intensity—a romantic, emotional tempest—suggesting drama, passion, and power beneath the polished surface.

The year 1934 placed this perfume firmly within the interwar period, a time of both fragility and flowering in the arts, fashion, and perfumery. The world was still recovering from the shock of the Great Depression, and in France especially, luxury had become a form of escapism and expression. Hollywood glamour dominated the visual imagination, and French couture and perfumery responded in kind with elegant silhouettes, luxurious materials, and rich, complex compositions. It was the Golden Age of Perfume, an era when scent was expected to be both statement and signature.

In this context, a fragrance called La Première would have resonated deeply with the modern, style-conscious woman of the 1930s. It implied that she, too, was the star of the evening—the first to arrive, the first to be noticed. Opening Night would have carried similar associations for American women, tapping into a love of the theater, glamour, and the cinematic spectacle. Orage, meanwhile, would have appealed to those drawn to a more poetic, passionate identity—women who felt the stirrings of romance and rebellion beneath the surface of polite society.

The fragrance itself was described as a sweet, sparkling aldehydic floral oriental with a chypre base—a rare hybrid at the time. Aldehydes contributed their radiant, effervescent quality, offering the scent a champagne-like sparkle, while lush florals and ambered orientals added warmth and sensuality. The chypre foundation—mossy, woody, and slightly bitter—provided structure and depth, ensuring the fragrance unfolded in stages like a theatrical performance.

In terms of perfumery trends, La Première sat confidently at the intersection of two dominant styles of the 1930s. On one hand, it embraced the aldehydic-floral sophistication made popular by Chanel No. 5 (1921) and followed by others like Arpège by Lanvin (1927). On the other, its oriental and chypre underpinnings aligned it with the richer, more opulent compositions of the time such as Shalimar (1925) or Crepe de Chine (1925). But its blending of all three—floral, aldehydic, oriental, and chypre—made La Première unique. It offered both dazzle and depth, much like the emotional range suggested by its various names.

Ultimately, La Première, Opening Night, and Orage were not just marketing adaptations; they were narrative lenses, each highlighting a different emotional facet of the same perfume. Through these names and their associations, the woman who wore this scent in 1934 could choose her own stage—whether she stepped into the spotlight with practiced elegance, leaned into the sparkle of public life, or revealed a stormy inner passion hidden beneath the surface of silk and scent.

Fragrance Composition:

So what does it smell like? Whether named La Première, Opening Night, or Orage, it is classified as a sweet, sparkling aldehydic floral oriental fragrance for women with a chypre base. Orage is floral and aldehydic in type, composed of jasmine from Grasse, Bulgarian rose, neroli, lily of the valley, ylang-ylang, iris, and patchouli. Fresh, youthful, and light in character, it is designed for young girls and young women, ideal for the outdoors, weekends, and travel.

• Top notes: aldehyde C-10, aldehyde C-11, aldehyde C-12 MNA, Sicilian mandarin, Paraguayan petitgrain, Calabrian bergamot, Sicilian lemon, Tunisian neroli, French lavender
• Middle notes: lily of the valley, Grasse rose de mai absolute, Bulgarian rose, French carnation, Zanzibar clove bud oil, eugenol, Ceylon cinnamon leaf, isoeugenol, Indian tuberose absolute, Moroccan orange blossom absolute, Grasse jasmine, cis-jasmone, Parma violet, sage, freesia, Florentine iris, methyl ionone, hydrangea, ylang ylang
• Base notes: ambergris, Mexican vanilla, vanillin, Maltese labdanum, Siam benzoin, Turkish styrax, coumarin, Canadian castoreum, Abyssinian civet, Somali opoponax, South American tolu balsam, Tonkin musk, musk xylene, Mysore sandalwood, Atlas cedar, Haitian vetiver, Indonesian patchouli, Yugoslavian oakmoss

Scent Profile:

The first impression is dazzling—effervescent, almost electric—as if the air itself has been lit from within. A trio of synthetic aldehydes leads the charge: Aldehyde C-10 (decanal) emerges first, with its soft citrusy sheen and waxy elegance, recalling the polished rind of an orange just grazed with a knife. Aldehyde C-11 (undecanal) follows with a cooler, metallic sparkle, like silver rain on porcelain. Then comes C-12 MNA, rich and slightly creamy, lending a velvety, candlelit glow that rounds the edges and draws out a subtle warmth. These aldehydes don’t stand alone—they elevate, amplify, and stretch the freshness across time, creating a luminous veil that clings delicately to the skin and reveals the citrus beneath.

From this shimmer, a cascade of fruits tumbles forward: Sicilian mandarin adds a honeyed juiciness with a faint floral tinge, far rounder and less tart than its colder cousins. Calabrian bergamot, with its celebrated balance of bitterness and sweet herbaceousness, lends green sparkle and structure—a vital citrus cornerstone from southern Italy, where the fruit’s oils are prized for their complexity. Sicilian lemon cuts through the sweetness with a refined brightness, sharp but softened by sun. Then there’s Paraguayan petitgrain, verdant and slightly woody, extracted from bitter orange leaves; it adds an aromatic breath of foliage, grounding the top in a faintly herbal trace.

Interwoven between these fruits is the ethereal perfume of Tunisian neroli, softly orange-blossomed and just a touch green, giving body and nuance to the opening floral whisper. A ribbon of French lavender, crisp and camphoraceous, dances along the edges—a surprising presence, slightly masculine, yet restrained and sophisticated, tempering sweetness with cool air. As the aldehydes slowly dissolve, the heart of the fragrance blooms like a velvet curtain drawn aside. The floral symphony is anchored by Grasse rose de mai, the quintessence of refinement. Its aroma is honeyed, slightly green, and profoundly tender—hand-harvested in the early morning dew and distilled into pure beauty. Supporting it, French carnation offers a spicy carnality with clove-like facets, enhanced here by a dash of Zanzibar clove bud oil, which deepens the spiced floral heart with warm, exotic richness.

Alongside it are the whispering flames of Ceylon cinnamon leaf oil, warmer and greener than bark oil, softened and shaped by eugenol and its more floral, round cousin isoeugenol—two early aroma chemicals drawn from nature, used here not to replace the natural spices but to sculpt their shadows, extending their reach and interplay with the rose and jasmine. Indian tuberose absolute bursts forth in full narcotic splendor—thick, sweet, and almost buttery, but with a green stemmy freshness that elevates. Grasse jasmine adds opulence, both floral and animalic, and is accentuated by cis-jasmone, an aroma molecule found naturally in jasmine but used here in isolation to highlight its sparkling, airy radiance—giving lift and volume to the florals without weighing them down.

Next, Moroccan orange blossom absolute, deeper and more indolic than its neroli counterpart, infuses the bouquet with sensuality and a dusky undercurrent. Parma violet, powdery and faintly metallic, drifts through like violet bonbons crumbling on the tongue. Freesia, delicate and dewy, adds a modern brightness, while hydrangea, abstract and gently aquatic, offers a petal-soft coolness. The green, aromatic lift of sage brings breath and depth, while Florentine iris, with its buttery-earthy coolness, mingles with methyl ionone, a key aroma molecule that mimics the violet-ionone scent found in orris root. Together they create a velvety, powdery bridge into the shadows of the base.

As the heart dims and the final act begins, a soft animalic warmth begins to glow. The base opens with the salty, oceanic depth of ambergris, ancient and rare, adding silken texture and a mineral warmth. Mexican vanilla—spicy, boozy, and resinous—is folded into the creaminess of vanillin, a synthetic used not to replace, but to amplify vanilla’s sweetness and diffusion. It is softened by Maltese labdanum, sticky and resinous with leathery undertones, contributing both to the oriental and chypre structure.

From this resin-rich core rises Siam benzoin, sweet and balsamic like polished wood steeped in honey, while Turkish styrax offers a slightly leathery, smoky accord. South American tolu balsam, lush and rounded, binds the vanillic and resinous components together like a silken thread. Warming it all is coumarin, hay-like and gently almondy, blending into the sensual purr of Tonkin musk, whose natural radiance is bolstered by musk xylene—a nitro-musky molecule that gives the drydown that unmistakable vintage aura: powdery, glowing, faintly animal, and unmistakably intimate.

The animalics here are delicately dosed: Canadian castoreum, leathery and warm like suede gloves held against the skin; and Abyssinian civet, which lends a trace of dirty-luxurious softness, never harsh—just the right touch to suggest skin. From the earth, a textured chypre base emerges. Yugoslavian oakmoss, mossy and shadowed with dark green and bitter wood, gives structure and gravitas. Indonesian patchouli, earthy and chocolatey, blends seamlessly with Haitian vetiver, whose dry, smoky grassiness sharpens the edges. Atlas cedar, dry and cool, adds quiet strength, while Mysore sandalwood, now a rarity, lends a creamy, sacred softness—its milky, woody depth warming everything it touches.

Together, these materials—both natural and synthetic, sourced from across continents and crafted in poetic balance—form a fragrance that is timeless, sultry, and luminous. La Première, Opening Night, or Orage is a story told in scent: from sparkling top to opulent floral heart to a sensual, mossy base, it is at once radiant and smoldering—like the memory of evening silk, warmed skin, golden light on lacquered wood, and the hush before a velvet curtain lifts.

Bottles:

Pyramid Bottle:

The parfum was presented in clear crystal bottles of striking geometric beauty, designed by Philippe Hiolle. Rendered in the form of a stylized step pyramid, each bottle exemplified the sculptural clarity of Art Deco design. The transparent crystal was precisely cut and fire-polished to a gleaming finish, giving each plane and edge a sense of quiet grandeur. Etched discreetly on the base was the mark “Made in France,” applied with acid for a refined permanence, subtly anchoring the piece in its place of origin.

These bottles were offered in six graduated sizes, each maintaining the architectural symmetry of the original design while varying in height to suit different preferences and presentations. The smallest measured 2.24 inches (5.7 cm) tall — a jewel-like miniature — while the largest rose to an imposing 6.18 inches (15.7 cm), a commanding flacon fit for a vanity of distinction. The intermediate sizes — 2.87 inches (7.3 cm), 3.22 inches (8.2 cm), 3.74 inches (9.5 cm), and 4.5 inches (11.5 cm) — allowed for a variety of display options, from intimate dressing table to boutique showcase. Each size maintained the same essential proportions, ensuring the stepped silhouette remained balanced and harmonious at every scale. A tiny pyramid bottle fitted with a brass cap stands just 1.5" tall.

The bottle rests on a black bakelite stand inside of a diamond shaped cardboard box.

Urn Bottle:

In 1938, Lucien Lelong's Opening Night perfume was given a new form of presentation, reflecting both wartime constraints and clever thematic design. The original stepped pyramid bottle—imported from France—was replaced with a special urn-shaped crystal flacon when the disruptions of World War II made overseas glass importation impractical. This shift did not signal a reduction in elegance, however; the new bottle was a refined interpretation of neoclassical form, reminiscent of amphorae, yet rendered in sleek, modern crystal.

The clear crystal urn featured a series of finely engraved bisecting lines—both on the body of the bottle and its matching stopper. These intersecting cuts caught and refracted the light, giving the surface a subtle sense of movement and depth, like stage lighting playing across a performer. The design was both architectural and symbolic, drawing the eye toward the center and evoking the curtains parting on a dramatic performance.

The bottle was housed in a presentation box that brought the name Opening Night to life. This packaging was deliberately designed to mimic the appearance of a theatrical stage, with structural elements that recalled proscenium arches and draped curtains. The interior framing created the illusion that the perfume bottle was the star of the show, dramatically spotlighted and ready to take its bow. In combining performance, luxury, and ingenuity, the presentation captured the mood of the late 1930s—an era of elegance shadowed by global uncertainty, where glamour and escapism often met in the scent of a perfume.

The bottle was available in several sizes:

• mini holds 6ml parfum, bottle stands 1.75" tall and has a ball-shaped brass screw cap.
• Ref. No. 9A (also known as No. 200) holds 0.1 oz Parfum, bottle stands 1.75" tall and has a cup-shaped brass screw cap.
• Ref. No. 1 (also known as No. 500) holds 0.25 oz of Parfum, bottle stands 1.75" tall.
• Ref. No. 2 holds 0.5 oz of Parfum, bottle stands 2.25" tall.
• Ref. No. 3 (also known as No. 1650) holds 1 oz of Parfum bottle stands 2.75" tall.
• Ref. No. 5 holds 3 oz of Parfum, bottle stands 3.5" tall.
• holds 5 oz of Parfum, stands 5" tall.

 

Opening Night was also housed in less expensive bottles over the years.

 

In 1969/1970, Orage was available in Parfum: Gift sets: 0.25 oz and 2 oz.

Also available in Eau de Toilette: Splash bottles 1/16 oz, 1/8 oz, 1/4 liter and 1/2 liter; Dusting Powder (6 oz round box); Perfume Cream (120cc).

Fate of the Fragrance:

Opening Night by Lucien Lelong was introduced in 1934, during a glamorous yet uncertain era marked by both artistic vibrance and looming global unrest. The fragrance was conceived as a celebration of high society, theater, and the allure of the spotlight—its very name evoking the anticipation and elegance of a grand debut. From its launch, Opening Night was positioned as one of Lelong’s most refined offerings, notable for both its complex scent profile and luxurious packaging.

Although the exact date of its discontinuation remains unclear, records show that Opening Night was still available for purchase as late as 1972. This suggests that the fragrance enjoyed an unusually long lifespan for a perfume of its time—almost four decades—attesting to its enduring appeal. Its survival through changing styles and tastes reflects how well it captured a certain timeless sophistication, resonating with women long after its Art Deco origins had passed into memory.

While no longer in production today, Opening Night remains a beloved and sought-after relic of the golden age of perfumery. Collectors and historians prize it not only for its olfactory composition, but also for the beauty of its bottles and the cultural context in which it was created. Whether named La Première, Opening Night, or Orage, it continues to evoke the excitement of a performance just about to begin.