Note: Please understand that this website is not affiliated with the Nina Ricci company in any way, it is only a reference page for collectors and those who have enjoyed the Nina Ricci fragrances. The goal of this website is to show the present owners of the Nina Ricci company how much we miss the discontinued classics and hopefully, if they see that there is enough interest and demand, they will bring back your favorite perfume! Please leave a comment below the article, (for example: of why you liked the perfume, describe the scent, time period or age you wore it, who gave it to you or what occasion, any specific memories), who knows, perhaps someone from the company might see it. Please do not use the contact form on the right for this action, as no one will see it but me.

Wednesday, April 2, 2014

Farouche (1973)

Farouche by Nina Ricci was launched in 1973, a moment when perfume names were becoming more expressive, psychological, and even provocative. The choice of the name "Farouche" was deliberate and telling. The word is French, pronounced fah-ROOSH. In French, "Farouche" describes something untamed, fierce, elusive, or proudly independent. It can suggest a wildness that is not aggressive, but self-possessed—someone who does not yield easily, who keeps a certain mystery and distance. The word evokes images of a woman who is not immediately accessible: strong, instinctive, sensual, and slightly aloof. Emotionally, "Farouche" suggests tension between softness and strength, beauty and defiance, elegance and raw instinct.

The perfume was introduced during the early 1970s, a period defined by cultural upheaval, self-expression, and shifting ideals of femininity. This era followed the social revolutions of the late 1960s and is often associated with second-wave feminism, sexual liberation, and a rejection of rigid traditional roles. Fashion reflected this transformation: flowing silhouettes, dramatic prints, earthy tones, bold makeup, and a growing mix of masculinity and femininity in women’s dress. In perfumery, this period marked a move away from purely romantic, innocent florals toward more complex, assertive compositions—chypres, aldehydes, and bold florals that conveyed confidence and individuality. A perfume called "Farouche" would have resonated deeply with women of the time, offering them a fragrant expression of autonomy, strength, and modern sophistication.

For women in 1973, wearing "Farouche" would not have felt decorative or submissive. Instead, it would have felt like a statement—an olfactory reflection of a woman who knew herself and was unafraid to stand apart. The name alone suggested a refusal to be easily categorized, aligning perfectly with the evolving identity of women who were embracing professional lives, personal freedom, and self-definition. "Farouche" spoke to a woman who was elegant but not fragile, sensual but not predictable.

Interpreted through scent, "Farouche" becomes an expression of controlled intensity. Created by Michel Hy, the fragrance is classified as an aldehydic floral chypre, a structure known for its sophistication and dramatic contrasts. Aldehydes lend an immediate brightness and lift at the opening—clean, sparkling, and almost abstract—before giving way to a luminous floral heart. Jasmine and rose absolute form the core, enriched by rare oriental fruits and woodsy blossoms, creating a layered and slightly enigmatic floral character. The base settles into a powdery, feminine softness, offering warmth and intimacy without sacrificing strength. Reportedly composed of 100 precious ingredients, including innovative dosages of woody and fruity notes, "Farouche" was designed to feel expansive, evolving, and alive on the skin.



Within the context of other fragrances on the market in the early 1970s, "Farouche" both aligned with and elevated prevailing trends. Aldehydic florals and chypres were already established, but Nina Ricci’s emphasis on richness, natural materials, and complexity set it apart from more aggressively synthetic launches of the time. Rather than chasing novelty for its own sake, "Farouche" offered depth, craftsmanship, and emotional presence—qualities increasingly valued by discerning perfume wearers.

This philosophy was articulated clearly by Robert Ricci in 1978, when he stated: "Many new perfumes are just chemical mixtures. They are 'dead' fragrances that grow boring because they don't have the warm life of natural essences. We use some laboratory-made elements, but a great perfume must be made of mostly natural ingredients." At the time, Ricci was touring the United States to promote "Farouche," which had only recently been introduced there. He emphasized patience and authenticity over mass-market tactics, explaining, "That makes it still a new perfume. It is not wise to make a blitz, as you say, to introduce a couture fragrance. If it has validity, it must find its patrons, who will tell others, and thus its grows."

"Farouche" was conceived when Ricci recognized the need for a counterpart to the iconic L’Air du Temps, a fragrance instantly recognizable worldwide thanks to its Lalique dove bottle. As Ricci himself acknowledged, "When you have been identified so strongly with one great perfume, it is most difficult to launch a second with success." Yet the changing cultural climate made it necessary. "But our changing times caused me to think that we should create a new fragrance, with dash, for a sophisticated effect." The result was "Farouche," a perfume that did not seek to replace its predecessor but to speak to a more assertive, modern woman.

Ricci also highlighted the technical and artistic challenges behind its creation, noting, "And there is the problem of translating it into production quantities! That is another difference from all-chemical fragrances. We produce in small quantities, blending with batches from past years, as they do with Champagne. Chemical kinds are simply mixed and run off, as it were." Composed by Michel Hy using over 100 ingredients, "Farouche" was designed to unfold fully on contact with the skin, creating a fragrance that adapts to the individual wearer. In this way, "Farouche" became not just a perfume, but a personal signature—fierce, elegant, and unmistakably alive.



Fragrance Composition:



So what does it smell like? Farouche is classified as an aldehydic floral chypre fragrance for women. Memorable meld of jasmine, rose absolute, rare oriental fruits, woodsy blossoms. It starts off with a fresh aldehydic top note, followed by a radiant light floral heart, resting on a powdery, feminine base. It was reportedly made up of 100 precious ingredients, including a new dosage of woody and fruity scents. 
  • Top notes: aldehydes, bergamot, mandarin orange, orange blossom, leafy green note, galbanum, peach  
  • Middle notes: broom blossom, cyclamen, honeysuckle, Indian carnation, orris, lily, clary sage, jasmine absolute, lily-of-the-valley, ylang ylang, rose absolute, geranium, cardamom
  • Base notes: Mysore sandalwood, ambergris, musk, orange leaves, oakmoss, vetiver

Scent Profile:


Farouche opens with a shimmering, almost electric lift, the unmistakable signature of aldehydes. These airy, laboratory-created molecules smell clean, sparkling, and abstract—like cold light bouncing off polished metal or freshly laundered linen warmed by skin. Aldehydes do not imitate nature; instead, they magnify it. Here, they act as a luminous veil, heightening everything that follows. Beneath this brightness, a leafy green note emerges, crisp and slightly bitter, evoking crushed stems and sap. Galbanum deepens this greenness with its sharp, resinous bite—dark green, almost pine-like, and intensely vegetal—anchoring the sparkle with tension and depth. 

Bergamot adds a refined citrus freshness, its Italian origin traditionally prized for its balanced bitterness and floral nuance, while mandarin orange brings a softer, sweeter citrus glow. Orange blossom introduces a white floral radiance—honeyed, faintly indolic, and gently narcotic—while peach contributes a velvety, lactonic softness, its fruity fleshiness rounding the sharper edges of the opening.

As Farouche unfolds, the heart becomes richly floral yet carefully controlled, each bloom distinct but harmonized. Broom blossom lends a warm, hay-like sweetness, sunlit and slightly almond-tinged, while cyclamen adds a cool, watery floral transparency that keeps the bouquet buoyant. Honeysuckle drips with nectar-like sweetness, evoking warm air and flowering vines, while Indian carnation—far spicier and more complex than its European counterparts—introduces clove-like warmth and a subtle peppery heat. Orris, derived from the aged rhizomes of iris plants (often Italian or Tuscan in character), smells powdery, rooty, and softly buttery, imparting elegance and a cosmetic smoothness. Lily and lily-of-the-valley contribute brightness and innocence—fresh, green, and dewy—while clary sage adds an herbal, slightly musky nuance that feels both aromatic and skin-like.

Jasmine absolute forms one of the emotional centers of Farouche. Rich, indolic, and faintly animalic, it suggests warm skin and night-blooming flowers, its depth amplified by synthetic elements that extend its diffusion and longevity. Rose absolute follows, lush and velvety, with a honeyed, wine-dark richness that speaks of classic perfumery; its complexity is enhanced by subtle aroma chemicals that emphasize freshness and petal clarity without overwhelming its natural soul. Ylang ylang brings creamy, banana-like florality with a tropical warmth, while geranium adds a rosy-green sharpness, bridging floral and leafy facets. Cardamom threads through the heart with aromatic spice—cool, citrusy, and gently peppered—adding lift and intrigue rather than heat.

The base of Farouche settles into a sensual, softly shadowed chypre foundation. Orange leaves echo the brightness of the opening but now feel dry and gently bitter, like sun-warmed foliage. Mysore sandalwood, long considered the gold standard of sandalwood due to its creamy richness and natural oil content, brings a smooth, milky woodiness unlike the sharper varieties from other regions. It smells warm, intimate, and quietly luxurious. 

Vetiver contributes earthy depth—smoky, grassy, and slightly damp—its roots grounding the composition. Oakmoss provides the classic chypre backbone: dark, forest-like, and slightly salty, evoking shaded woods and aged stone. Ambergris adds a soft, marine warmth and subtle animalic glow, blurring the line between skin and scent, while musk—largely synthetic by this era—wraps everything in a clean, sensual softness that prolongs the fragrance’s presence without heaviness.

Together, these elements—natural essences enhanced by carefully chosen synthetics—create the living complexity Farouche was celebrated for. The aroma chemicals do not replace nature here; they illuminate it, extending the life of fragile florals, polishing rough edges, and allowing the perfume to unfold slowly on skin. The result is a fragrance that moves from brilliance to intimacy, from sparkling confidence to powdery, feminine warmth—untamed yet refined, true to the spirit of its name.


The American Home, 1977:
"Nina Ricci's new fragrance, Farouche (French for both "wild" and "shy"), is created from jasmine, rose absolute, rare Oriental fruits, and woodsy blossoms— all meant to complement your personality. 2-oz. Eau de Toilette Spray (refillable)."

House Beautiful, 1977:
"Andrea de Portago, who is half Spanish nobility (her father's side) and half Southern belle (her mother's), is the new model and spokesperson for Nina Ricci's "Farouche" fragrance."


Bottles:


Farouche was offered as a complete luxury fragrance ritual, available in parfum, eau de parfum, eau de toilette, bath oil, creme parfumee (perfumed body lotion), dusting powder, deodorant spray, and perfumed soap. This range allowed the wearer to layer the scent in different ways, from the intimate richness of parfum to the lighter, more casual expression of the eau de toilette, extending the fragrance into everyday life through bathing and body care. Such breadth reflected Nina Ricci’s couture approach to perfumery, where scent was not a single product but an atmosphere surrounding the woman who wore it.


Parfum:

The parfum was the jewel of the collection and was presented in a deluxe Lalique crystal original flacon of remarkable symbolic and artistic ambition called the "Flacon Volutes". The bottle was composed of two solid crystal volutes—graceful, sculptural curves—embracing a frosted crystal heart at the center. This design was intended to symbolize the “inner woman,” a poetic metaphor suggesting emotional depth, sensuality, and mystery protected within strength. Each piece was individually signed by Lalique, reinforcing its status not merely as packaging, but as a work of decorative art. From the moment of its release, the flacon was destined to be a collector’s item, joining the lineage of celebrated Nina Ricci bottles revered by perfume and crystal connoisseurs alike.



Alongside the deluxe presentation, both the parfum and the eau de toilette were also available in the more restrained Lalique “Classical Flacon,” as well as in spray formats. These versions offered accessibility without sacrificing elegance, maintaining the brand’s refined aesthetic while allowing the fragrance to reach a broader audience. Even in its simpler forms, the presence of Lalique glass ensured a sense of continuity with Nina Ricci’s artistic heritage.

The "Lalique Classical Flacon" used for the Parfum shown below, was available in 1/4 oz, 1/2 oz and 1 oz sizes.


The cost of Farouche at launch clearly positioned it as a true luxury. The heart-shaped one-ounce Lalique crystal deluxe parfum flacon retailed at $75, a considerable sum at the time—equivalent to approximately $522.75 in 2025’s money, according to an inflation calculator. By comparison, the same amount of parfum in the plainer Lalique Classical Flacon sold for $40 an ounce, or about $278.80 in 2025’s terms. This pricing emphasized not only the value of the fragrance itself, but also the artistry and exclusivity of the crystal object that contained it.

Contemporary press captured the spirit of Farouche and the woman it was meant to embody. Vogue in 1977 wrote: “There is a special kind of woman the French call ‘Farouche. … In her image, Nina Ricci, Paris, has created a soft but sensuous fragrance. … And in her honor, has named it Farouche. Perhaps, you are the Farouche woman.” The magazine went on to highlight the prestige of the presentation: “The Farouche Deluxe Parfum Flacon is a Lalique Crystal Original bearing the Lalique signature. The longer you know the Farouche woman the more interesting she becomes.”

Another contemporary observation reinforced this image, noting that “Nina Ricci characterizes its Farouche perfume as a lady ‘independent but not aggressive; strong, but unimpeachably feminine.’” The writer added, “Sounds like Jackie O. to me. Anyway, Farouche smells lovely, simply lovely, $85 in Lalique crystal.” Together, these descriptions framed Farouche not just as a fragrance, but as a portrait of a woman—complex, elegant, quietly powerful—encased in crystal as refined and enduring as the ideal it represented.


Other Parfum Bottles:








The fragrance was also available in the following:
  • 1/5 oz Refillable Parfum Purse Spray
  • 3.3 oz Eau de Toilette Splash
  • 6.6 oz Eau de Toilette Splash
  • 2 oz Refillable Eau de Toilette Spray
  • 3.75 oz Eau de Toilette Spray





Eau de Parfum:


 


Deodorant Spray:

 
 


Bath Oil:

The Farouche bath oil was conceived as a sensorial extension of the fragrance, transforming an everyday ritual into something indulgent and intimate. At its core was mineral oil, chosen for its smooth, weightless glide and its ability to coat the skin with a soft, protective veil. Odorless and stable, it allowed the fragrance to remain true and unaltered, while imparting a silky afterfeel that lingered long after the bath water had drained away. Mineral spirits were included in small, controlled amounts to help thin the formula and improve its spreadability, ensuring the oil dispersed evenly through warm water rather than pooling on the surface.

The fragrance itself infused the bath oil with the unmistakable character of Farouche—softly aldehydic, floral, and subtly powdery—so that steam rising from the bath carried gentle echoes of jasmine, rose, and mossy warmth. Oleth-10, a non-ionic emulsifier derived from oleyl alcohol, played a quiet but essential role. It helped bind oil and water, allowing the bath oil to cloud the water slightly and rinse more cleanly from the skin, preventing an overly greasy residue while maintaining a luxurious slip.

Perhaps the most evocative ingredient was mink oil, prized at the time for its richness and skin-conditioning properties. Naturally high in palmitoleic acid, mink oil closely resembles the lipids found in human skin, which gave it a reputation for deep moisturization and a supple, almost satin-like finish. In the context of Farouche, it added a sense of warmth and intimacy, reinforcing the idea of the bath oil as a nurturing, feminine indulgence rather than a purely functional product. Together, these ingredients created a bath experience that was not only fragrant, but enveloping—leaving the skin lightly perfumed, softened, and subtly glowing, as though wrapped in the quiet luxury that defined Farouche itself.


Body Lotion:





Soaps:



Dusting Powder:





In 1977/1978, Farouche was available in the following formats:
  • Parfum Presentations: "Volutes" crystal bottles, original creation in Lalique crystal. Available in various sizes; purse atomizers; perfume atomizers
  • Related Products: Eau de Toilette splashes (3 sizes); Eau de Toilette atomizers; Eau de Toilette - 4 oz deluxe, - 2 oz refillable; Natural Eau de Toilette spray (2.5 oz)
  • Ancillary Products: Matching toiletries; Creamy shower soap


In 1984–1985, Farouche was presented as a refined yet assertive fragrance line, fully expressing the perfume’s independent and sophisticated character. The collection balanced high artistic luxury with practical formats, allowing Farouche to be worn as an intimate signature scent or enjoyed as part of a complete daily ritual. Every element of the line echoed the fragrance’s identity—elegant, confident, and quietly powerful.

At the pinnacle of the range were the “Volutes”parfums bottles, the original sculptural design executed in Lalique crystal. Available in two sizes, these bottles were conceived as true objets d’art, their sweeping crystal curves embracing the heart of the fragrance and symbolizing inner strength and femininity. Alongside these collector pieces, the parfum was also offered in presentation bottles in four sizes, providing a more traditional yet still luxurious alternative. A purse spray completed the extrait offerings, allowing the wearer to carry the essence of Farouche discreetly and elegantly.

The Eau de Toilette line emphasized versatility and modern convenience. It was available as a splash in three sizes, appealing to those who favored a classic method of application. For more contemporary use, the fragrance was offered in a generous 4 oz (120 ml) spray, a 60 ml refillable spray that combined practicality with sustainability, and a 2.5 oz (75 ml) natural spray, ideal for everyday wear. These options allowed Farouche to adapt to different lifestyles while maintaining its distinctive presence.

Extending beyond fragrance alone, the accessories transformed Farouche into a complete sensory experience. The line included 100 g perfumed soaps, a 150 ml perfumed body lotion, and a perfumed foaming bath designed to envelop the skin in softness and scent. A perfumed talcum powder in a 100 g travel-size flexible bottle offered a lighter, powdery expression of the fragrance, while a 150 ml cream soap provided gentle daily cleansing.

Together, the 1984–1985 Farouche product line reflected Nina Ricci’s couture philosophy: fragrance as both art and ritual. Through its Lalique crystal masterpieces, thoughtfully designed sprays, and indulgent body-care offerings, Farouche was presented not merely as a perfume, but as a confident, elegant way of life.



Fate of the Fragrance:



Although the exact date of discontinuation is unknown, the fate of several Nina Ricci fragrances reveals a telling contrast between European and American perfume culture in the mid- to late-twentieth century. Despite their exceptional quality, four Nina Ricci perfumes—Coeur Joie, Capricci, Farouche, and Fleurs de Fleurs—failed to gain lasting success in the American market, even as they continued to be well received in Europe. This divergence was not due to craftsmanship or artistic merit, but rather to differing cultural expectations around scent, femininity, and presentation.

At the time, many American women favored fragrances that made an immediate and powerful statement—bold, assertive compositions with strong projection and overt sensuality. In contrast, European women tended to appreciate lighter, more nuanced, and floral perfumes that unfolded gradually and remained closer to the skin. These softer compositions were valued not for their force, but for their elegance and subtle emotional effect. Nina Ricci’s fragrances, with their refined structures and gentle sophistication, aligned naturally with European sensibilities but often felt too restrained for American tastes.

Another crucial difference lay in how perfume itself was perceived. In Europe, fragrance was—and remains—an extension of personal refinement, something that enhances femininity rather than dominates it. European women placed great importance on the artistry of perfume bottles and packaging, especially when crafted in decorative crystal. A perfume was not only worn, but displayed and cherished as an object of beauty. This appreciation for visual elegance strongly complemented Nina Ricci’s heritage, particularly its association with exquisitely designed Lalique bottles.

In the United States, however, packaging was often secondary to the scent’s impact. The emphasis leaned toward immediacy and intensity rather than romance and subtlety. This cultural divide was succinctly captured by Lina Vitali, vice president of Parfums Nina Ricci, USA, in 1989: “The French image of perfume is very romantic, feminine and sophisticated,” she explained. “The American perfume’s image is more aggressive, sexual and overpowering.” Her observation highlights how deeply national identity and cultural values influence perfume preferences.

Ultimately, the discontinuation of these fragrances in the American market underscores the challenge of translating a distinctly French vision of perfume across cultural boundaries. While Coeur Joie, Capricci, Farouche, and Fleurs de Fleurs embodied elegance, artistry, and restraint—qualities prized in Europe—they struggled in a market that favored boldness and immediacy. Their continued success abroad stands as a testament to the enduring appeal of Nina Ricci’s romantic, feminine, and sophisticated approach to perfumery.

Tuesday, April 1, 2014

Coeur-Joie (1945)

Cœur-Joie by Nina Ricci was introduced in France in 1945 and in the United States in 1946, conceived during the privations of the Second World War but released into the exhilaration of peace. It became the first important Nina Ricci fragrance and, in America, made an especially appealing present for returning servicemen seeking a refined, romantic gift for the women waiting at home. Its arrival marked more than the launch of a perfume: it helped establish Nina Ricci as a major perfume house just as Paris was reclaiming its place as the world’s capital of elegance.

The fragrance was created by Germaine Cellier (1909–1976), one of the great pioneering women perfumers of the twentieth century. A trained chemist who worked for the French fragrance firm Roure-Bertrand-Dupont, Cellier became celebrated for perfumes of startling character and daring contrasts—among them Robert Piguet’s leather-rich Bandit, Balmain’s vividly green Vent Vert, and the monumental tuberose of Fracas. Her work was never merely pretty: she used both natural materials and modern aroma chemicals with a bold, almost architectural hand. In Cœur-Joie, that instinct is expressed more softly and romantically, but the quietly unusual green, dry character beneath the flowers still bears her signature. 

The name is French: Cœur-Joie, pronounced approximately “kur zhwa.” Literally, it joins cœur, meaning “heart,” with joie, meaning “joy”; it may be read poetically as “joy of the heart,” “heart’s delight,” or “a joyful heart.” Robert Ricci likely chose it for its warm emotional directness. In a Europe emerging from grief, separation, and wartime austerity, the name promised tenderness, renewed pleasure, affection, and hope. It evokes a heart lifted by good news: flowers brought indoors, a love letter, sunlight through greenhouse glass, and the return of beauty after years in which beauty had often been set aside.

Women encountering Cœur-Joie in 1945–46 would have understood it as a perfume of feminine optimism. Fashion was moving away from wartime utility—shortages, rationing, narrow skirts, practical suits, and restrained ornament—toward a renewed appetite for softness, polish, flowers, and luxury. Christian Dior’s extravagantly skirted “New Look” would soon crystallize that mood in 1947, but its emotional groundwork was already present: women wanted romance without fragility, and elegance that felt like a reward rather than a duty. Nina Ricci’s couture was known for its graceful, body-conscious femininity, and Cœur-Joie translated that sensibility into scent. Its title would have suggested a woman who could be composed and capable, yet still receptive to charm, courtship, celebration, and private happiness.

Olfactively, the name suggests neither a sugary nor a frivolous joy, but a cultivated one. Cœur-Joie is a lush, powdery aldehydic floral: bright aldehydes give the flowers an airy, champagne-like lift, while jasmine, violet absolute, Florence iris, Oriental rose, and neroli create the impression of a richly planted conservatory. The floral effect is romantic but not innocent; it is made more poised by iris’s cool, cosmetic-like powderiness and violet’s dusky, shadowed sweetness. The advertised “elegant hothouse” image is particularly apt—humid petals and green stems behind glass, arranged with Parisian precision rather than left wild in a garden.

Its dry, subtly unconventional undercurrent came in part from acetivenol, a vetiver acetate aroma chemical. Rather than smelling like a simple fresh-cut root, it lends vetiver’s dry earthiness, grassy bitterness, and polished woody depth in a smoother, more stylized form. Beneath the luxuriant flowers, it gives Cœur-Joie a tailored, woody-green backbone: a faintly cool contrast that keeps the jasmine and violet from becoming overly sweet or merely cosmetic. With at least forty ingredients in its composition, the perfume was built as a nuanced floral construction—delicate in manner, yet full-bodied and enduring in effect.

Within its period, Cœur-Joie both followed and quietly advanced prevailing trends. Aldehydic florals had already become a prestigious modern style through such landmarks as Chanel No. 5 and Lanvin Arpège; a polished floral bouquet with aldehydes therefore spoke the language of luxury women already recognized. What distinguished Cellier’s treatment was the green, dry, vetiver-like tension under the powdery flowers—an early indication of the more overtly green direction she would soon make famous. It was not as shocking as Bandit, nor as sharply green as Vent Vert, but it was more individual than a conventional soft floral: a postwar bouquet with a clear stem, a cool shadow, and a very modern sense of poise.



Original Fragrance Composition:



So what does it smell like? Coeur-Joie is classified as a lush, powdery aldehydic floral fragrance for women. It was described as a delicately romantic green floral "which smells like an elegant hothouse" filled with lush jasmine and a "faint reflection of violets caught in a subtle blend" resting over a warm, woodsy base. 
  • Top notes: aldehydes, lemon balm, bergamot, neroli, hyacinth
  • Middle notes: gardenia, violet absolute, orange blossom, Oriental rose, jasmine absolute, Florentine ris
  • Base notes: opoponax, musk, ambergris, orris butter, civet, vetiver, vetiveryl acetate (acetivenol), sandalwood

Scent Profile:


Cœur-Joie opens with the polished radiance of aldehydes: not a single material, but a family of aroma chemicals used to give a floral perfume lift, diffusion, and a wonderfully abstract sparkle. They can suggest the fizz of chilled champagne, waxed white linen, citrus peel, and petals caught in clear morning light. Here they make the opening feel airy rather than heavy, raising the floral heart as though the greenhouse windows have just been thrown open. Their modern, luminous sheen was especially important in an aldehydic floral of the 1940s, turning a bouquet of natural flowers into something more elegant, expansive, and impeccably dressed.

A tender, aromatic greenness follows in lemon balm—softly lemony, leafy, and faintly herbaceous, rather than sharply citric. Bergamot adds its own more refined brightness: a cool, slightly bitter peel note with a subtle floral-tea nuance, giving the perfume a tailored, almost glove-leather elegance beneath its freshness. Neroli, distilled from the blossoms of the bitter-orange tree, bridges citrus and flower with a luminous scent of orange blossom, green twig, honeyed petal, and clean sunlight.

Hyacinth brings the wet, green, almost dewy scent of spring bulbs and crushed stems. In perfume, however, hyacinth is generally an accord rather than a straightforward natural essence: its living-flower fragrance is too delicate and complex to be captured faithfully by ordinary distillation. It gives Cœur-Joie part of its “elegant hothouse” character—the impression of cool earth, snapped green stalks, and flowers blooming in humid air.

The floral heart opens with gardenia, creamy, rich, and faintly green, its white petals suggesting both velvet and warm tropical night air. Natural gardenia oil was known in early twentieth-century perfumery but was scarce even then, and gardenia is now most often recreated from other materials because the flower does not yield a practical, stable perfume essence in abundance. In a vintage-style composition, its effect would likely have been constructed from facets of jasmine and other floral and creamy materials, giving the gardenia an intensified, idealized bloom rather than a literal botanical snapshot.

Orange blossom deepens neroli’s bright opening into something sweeter and more sensuous—waxen white petals, honey, and a warm breath of indole—while Oriental rose supplies a velvety, full-bodied rose note. “Oriental” was a historical perfume description rather than a precise botanical origin; it implies a rich, opulent rose character, perhaps touched with spice, honey, or the suggestion of Turkish or Bulgarian rose traditions, rather than identifying one documented source country.

At the center lies jasmine absolute, one of the perfume’s great sources of lushness. Solvent-extracted from freshly gathered jasmine blossoms, the absolute smells at once floral, fruity, tea-like, creamy, and softly animalic; its indolic undertone gives the impression of living petals warmed by skin and evening air. This is not the neat, innocent smell of a single flower in a vase, but jasmine in profusion—humid, radiant, and almost breathing. It gives Cœur-Joie its romantic fullness, while the greener flowers and aldehydes prevent that fullness from becoming languid or overly sweet.

The perfume’s celebrated “faint reflection of violets” is more complex than it first appears. A material called violet absolute often refers to an extract of violet leaves, which smells green, watery, cucumber-like, and faintly hay-like rather than like the sweet scent of violet petals. The petal fragrance itself yields very little usable essence; perfumers traditionally had to recreate it with aroma chemicals, especially ionones, together with orris and other supporting materials. Thus, even if violet absolute appears in a note list, the perfume’s soft, powdery violet illusion is likely the combined result of natural violet-leaf material, floral reconstruction, and its magnificent iris materials—not simply a literal extraction of violet flowers.

Florentine iris and orris butter give Cœur-Joie its most luxurious powdery texture. Florentine iris ordinarily refers to Iris pallida, long cultivated in Tuscany for perfumery; the name reflects this celebrated Italian tradition, not necessarily a guarantee that every lot came directly from Florence. The precious perfumery material comes not from the blossom but from the rhizome, which is aged for years before distillation. Orris butter has a cool, buttery, violet-like scent with nuances of soft suede, dry earth, carrot, pale wood, and cosmetic face powder. Its natural irones reinforce the violet effect while giving the floral bouquet a silvery, aristocratic stillness. The separate listing of orris butter suggests that this iris effect was not merely decorative: it was part of the perfume’s soft, expensive-feeling structure. Givaudan’s description of orris butter

Beneath the flowers rises opoponax, a fragrant gum resin with a darkly sweet, balsamic odor—warm resins, softly smoky incense, dried fruit, and faint medicinal spice. It gives the base a shadowed amber glow. Sandalwood smooths this richness with a creamy, milky woodiness, almost like warm polished wood and skin; vetiver brings the opposing texture of dry roots, grass, earth, and faint smoke. Together, they make the base warm and woodsy without making it dense or syrupy.

Here Cellier’s use of vetiveryl acetate, also called Acetivenol, becomes particularly important. It is not an entirely unrelated synthetic substitute for vetiver: it is a semi-synthetic material made by chemically modifying selected vetiver-derived alcohols. The result retains vetiver’s woody, rooty, grassy identity but makes it cleaner, smoother, sweeter, drier, and longer-lasting—often with an almost sandalwood-like creaminess. Natural vetiver can be smoky, earthy, or rough-edged; vetiveryl acetate polishes those edges into a refined woody veil. In Cœur-Joie, it would extend the iris-violet powderiness downward into the base, holding the flowers upright over a dry, elegant, grassy-woody foundation rather than allowing them to dissolve into sweetness. Vetiveryl acetate is described as a long-lasting, sweet-dry woody vetiver material.

Finally, musk, ambergris, and civet lend the historical formula its intimate warmth and persistence. In a 1945 perfume, these names could indicate natural animal materials, though exact original usage and proportions would require the formula to confirm; modern versions would normally use synthetic or non-animal alternatives. Musk softens the whole composition into a warm, clean, skin-like haze. Ambergris contributes a diffusive, salty-sweet, mineral, subtly marine glow that can make flowers feel more spacious and alive. Civet, used in the smallest amount, does not necessarily smell overtly animalic; it gives jasmine and orange blossom a warm, sensual pulse, intensifying their illusion of living petals. These shadowed materials are the quiet counterweight to the aldehydes: they turn the bright, flower-filled conservatory of Cœur-Joie into a perfume with warmth, body, and a lingering human presence.



Bottles:


Cœur-Joie was offered as a complete scented ritual, allowing its delicate floral character to be experienced in different degrees of richness. The parfum would have been the fullest and most intimate form: a small amount on the skin revealing the dense, powdery heart of jasmine, violet, Florentine iris, and rose, then lingering with warm woods, resins, vetiver, and softly animalic ambergris-musk depth.

Eau de Cœur-Joie, likely a lighter perfume preparation or specially named toilette interpretation, would retain the fragrance’s polished floral identity while allowing more of its sparkling aldehydes, bergamot, neroli, lemon balm, and green hyacinth effect to show. The regular Eau de Toilette would be fresher and more transparent still—an airy, bright, hothouse-floral veil, suited to daytime wear and refreshed application—while the deeper base would be less persistent than in parfum. 

Bath oil would turn warm water into a silky, softly perfumed floral bath, emphasizing the creamy gardenia, jasmine, sandalwood, and skin-warm musky notes as it clung gently to the body. The perfumed bath foam would offer the most fleeting, cheerful expression: a cloud of scented bubbles carrying the bright citrus, neroli, and green-floral aspects first, then leaving only a clean, powdery whisper of iris, violet, and soft woods on the skin.


Deluxe Heart bottles:


The deluxe Cœur-Joie parfum flacons were made by Lalique in four increasingly intimate sizes, each translating the perfume’s “Joyous Heart” name into crystal. The largest, holding 2.7 ounces and standing approximately six inches high, was intended as a true dressing-table presentation; the 1.5-ounce bottle stands 4¾ inches, the one-ounce size four inches, and the half-ounce miniature 3½ inches. All were produced in clear and frosted glass or crystal, their substantial, sculptural form reinforcing the impression that the perfume was not simply contained in a bottle, but housed in a small decorative object of French luxury.

The design is more elaborate than a simple heart silhouette. Its cubic cross-section gives the flacon a stable, architectural presence, while the body is pierced by an openwork, multi-lobed heart—an airy opening that turns the clear crystal into a frame around light and shadow. Frosted panels, left in reserve against the transparent glass, are decorated with floral ornament, giving the bottle the look of a romantic crystal jewel or a small Art Deco object. The largest example, at 15 cm or about six inches high, was presented in an early embossed box, making it especially impressive as a gift and now particularly desirable to collectors.

A half-moon-shaped stopper crowns the flacon, its surface molded with a butterfly in raised relief. This small motif is wonderfully suited to Cœur-Joie: the heart represents affection and joy, while the butterfly adds an idea of lightness, transformation, and fleeting beauty. The model was designed by Marc Lalique and is wheel-signed, an important mark of authenticity and craftsmanship. The three largest sizes are also signed Cœur-Joie and Nina Ricci, while all authentic examples should bear wording identifying the bottle as made by Lalique in France.

There are useful variations for dating these bottles. Earlier versions have distinctly heart-shaped openings through the center at every size. On later examples, the smaller bottles were altered so that their openings appear rounder or more circular, though the heart motif remains unmistakable. These subtle changes, together with the signatures, size, and original box when present, help place a surviving flacon within the long production history of Nina Ricci’s most romantic Lalique design.

Bottle sizes:
  • 2.7 oz bottle stands 6" tall
  • 1.5 oz bottle stands 4.75" tall
  • 1 oz bottle stands 4" tall
  • 0.5 oz bottle stands 3.5" tall





This sealed Cœur-Joie parfum presentation is housed in its original cubic box of cardboard covered in white satin, a luxurious and unusually delicate form of packaging that heightens the romance of the Lalique flacon within. The box is titled and illustrated after a design by Christian Bérard, the celebrated French artist and theatrical designer, while its satin-lined interior bears the Nina Ricci mark—details that make the complete presentation especially evocative of postwar Parisian couture. Inside rests a 9 cm, or approximately 3½-inch, pressed-molded clear-crystal bottle, partially frosted to bring out its sculptural decoration. Its cubic profile encloses the openwork, multi-lobed heart motif, with transparent and frosted areas playing against one another around reserved floral panels. A cabochon-shaped stopper, molded in relief with a butterfly, completes the design with a touch of lightness and transformation. Created by Marc Lalique and signed, the flacon is both a perfume bottle and a miniature crystal object; still sealed in its original Bérard-designed box, it preserves the complete intended experience of Cœur-Joie as a refined French gift.











Heart motif purse bottles:

The Cœur-Joie heart-motif purse bottles carried Nina Ricci’s romantic Lalique design into a portable, personal form. Designed by Marc Lalique and made in frosted glass, these small laydown flacons were intended to hold parfum and to travel discreetly in a handbag. Rather than standing upright on a dressing table, they lie horizontally, their sequence of linked hearts forming a little crystal love-token that could be slipped into a purse and brought out for a private touch of perfume. Each is fitted with a small screw cap, practical enough for travel but deliberately modest so as not to interrupt the repeating heart design.

Bottle sizes:
  • 4" long (four hearts)
  • 3 1/8" long (three hearts)
  • 2 1/4" long (two hearts)
  • 1 1/2" long (one heart)

The largest example measures four inches long and is formed of four joined hearts; the next, 3⅛ inches long, has three hearts; and the 2¼-inch version has two. Their softly frosted surfaces make the forms appear gentle and velvety rather than sharply glassy, while the connected hearts echo the perfume’s name, Cœur-Joie—“joyous heart” or “heart’s delight.” Presented in acetate boxes, these miniature flacons were treated as charming accessories as well as perfume containers, combining the novelty of a purse flask with the polish of French crystal design.

The tiniest example, measuring only 1½ inches and formed as a single heart, should be approached with a little caution by collectors. Although it follows the Lalique heart motif and was likely marketed as a companion to the larger purse bottles, it may not itself have been manufactured by Lalique. It is best described as a bottle based on, or inspired by, the Marc Lalique design unless it bears convincing Lalique identification or is accompanied by documented original packaging. Even so, it completes the charming progression from four hearts to one: Cœur-Joie reduced to its simplest and most intimate symbol.








Parfum Splash Bottles:


Beginning in 1968, Cœur-Joie parfum was also presented in a graceful series of crystal splash bottles whose shape departed from the earlier heart motif while retaining Nina Ricci’s unmistakable air of French refinement. These flacons have a rounded, bulbous body that sits warmly in the hand, rising into a long, elegant tapered neck. An octagonal crystal stopper crowns the larger bottles, adding a crisp, jewel-like counterpoint to the softness of the curved glass. Across the belly, gold serigraphy carries the perfume’s name, giving the transparent crystal a discreet flash of couture-like ornament.


The bottle sizes:
  • 4" tall (2 oz)
  • 3 1/2" tall (1 oz)
  • 2 1/2" tall (1/2 oz)
  • 2" tall (1/6 oz) (screwcap)

The series was designed and made by Lalique, but collectors will encounter related examples that do not bear a Lalique mark. Bottles marked instead with the name Jacqueline Cochran were produced by Pochet et du Courval, using the established Lalique-inspired Nina Ricci design. They should not automatically be dismissed as later replacements or inferior copies; rather, they represent a separately manufactured version of the same recognizable bottle style. The maker’s mark is therefore important when identifying a particular example, while the shape, gold lettering, closure, and original label or packaging help confirm its place within the Cœur-Joie line.

The largest bottle stands four inches tall and holds two ounces of parfum, making it a compact but generous dressing-table splash flacon. The one-ounce version measures 3½ inches, and the half-ounce bottle stands 2½ inches high; both retain the elegant stopper and full sculptural proportion of the larger size. The smallest, holding one-sixth of an ounce and standing only two inches tall, is fitted with a practical screw cap rather than an octagonal stopper. It was intended as a miniature or travel-sized presentation, but still carries the same rounded silhouette and golden identification that connect it to the larger Lalique-designed bottles.





Eau de Coeur Joie Splash Bottles:


Introduced in 1968, the Eau de Cœur-Joie splash bottle carried the same graceful Lalique-designed silhouette as the parfum flacons, but translated it into a more practical presentation for the concentrated eau de toilette and regular Eau de Toilette. Its body is softly bulbous and rounded, narrowing into a poised, tapered neck; the form feels elegant in the hand while remaining simple enough for frequent use. At four inches tall, it has the compact, substantial presence of a proper dressing-table bottle rather than a mere travel flask.

The important distinction is the closure. Whereas the parfum splash bottles were topped with faceted octagonal crystal stoppers, the Eau de Cœur-Joie and Eau de Toilette bottles are fitted with gilded screw caps. The golden cap gives the clear bottle a clean, polished finish and makes it suitable for a lighter fragrance intended to be splashed on more freely. It also offers a useful point of identification for collectors: the same rounded Lalique-style shape with an ornate crystal stopper generally indicates parfum, while the matching bottle with a gilded screw cap was made for the concentrated Eau de Cœur-Joie or standard Eau de Toilette.

Bottle sizes:
  • 4" tall 






Disk Shaped Splash Bottles:

Introduced during the 1950s, the disk-shaped Cœur-Joie splash bottles offered a compact, sculptural alternative to the heart and bulbous Lalique flacons. Made by Lalique for both parfum and Eau de Toilette, they have a broad circular body whose scalloped edges give the glass the appearance of a softly ruffled rosette or a small crystal sunburst. Round paper labels identify the fragrance at the center of the bottle, while the parfum versions are crowned with a spherical glass stopper above a neck molded with the raised initials NR for Nina Ricci. Eau de Cœur-Joie examples share the same distinctive disk-like form but are fitted instead with a gilded screw cap, a practical distinction reflecting their more freely used concentrated eau de toilette presentation.

The disk-shaped Cœur-Joie bottles appeared in a remarkably wide range of parfum sizes, from tiny purse or sample presentations to imposing dressing-table flacons. The tallest stands 8¾ inches high, while other versions measure 5⅛ inches—including a 6.8-ounce example fitted with a screw cap—five inches for a 3.3-ounce bottle, 4½ inches for an oval-bodied parfum bottle with crystal stopper, 4¼ inches for a 1¾-ounce crystal-stopper bottle, and four inches for another parfum presentation with crystal stopper. The variation in height, capacity, and closure shows that the disk design was not a single standard bottle, but a flexible Lalique presentation adapted to several price points and uses.

Smaller parfum examples include bottles measuring 3¾ inches, 3¼ inches for the one-ounce crystal-stopper size, three inches for the quarter-ounce size, 2⅝ inches for a listed 3/7-ounce crystal-stopper example, and 2¾ inches. The spherical crystal stoppers and molded NR initials on the neck gave these parfum bottles their most luxurious finish, while their scalloped circular bodies made even the smallest versions feel like miniature pieces of decorative glass rather than simple containers.

The same design was used for Eau de Cœur-Joie. A substantial 6¼-inch, 6.8-ounce Eau de Toilette bottle was fitted with a crystal stopper, while a smaller 4¾-inch Eau de Toilette version used a gilded screw cap. The line also extended to a 2⅛-inch bath-oil bottle with a screw cap, allowing the scalloped Lalique motif to carry through the complete Cœur-Joie bathing and perfume ritual.




Parfum Bottle sizes:
  • 8.75" tall
  • 5 1/8" tall (6.8 oz), with screw cap
  • 5" tall (3.3 oz)
  • 4 1/2" tall, parfum with oval shaped body, crystal stopper
  • 4 1/4" tall (1 3/4 oz), parfum with crystal stopper
  • 4" tall, parfum with crystal stopper
  • 3 3/4" tall
  • 3 1/4" tall (1 oz) parfum, with crystal stopper
  • 3" tall (1/4 oz)
  • 2 5/8" tall (3/7 oz), parfum with crystal stopper
  • 2 3/4" tall

Eau de Coeur Joie Bottle sizes:
  • 6 1/4" tall (6.8 oz), eau de toilette with crystal stopper
  • 4 3/4" tall, eau de toilette with screw cap

Bath Oil bottles:
  • 2 1/8" tall, bath oil with screw cap




In 1972/1973, Coeur Joie was available in the following formats:
  • Parfum Presentations: "Coeur" crystal bottles signed Lalique. Various sizes were offered; also available in atomizers for the handbag.
  • Related Products: Eau de Toilette (4 sizes)
  • Ancillary Products: perfumed bath foam.

In 1977/1978, Coeur Joie was available in the following formats:
  • Parfum Presentations: "Coeur" crystal bottles signed Lalique. Various sizes were offered; also available in atomizers for the handbag.
  • Related Products: Eau de Toilette (3 sizes); Eau de Toilette Atomizers (4 oz deluxe)
  • Ancillary Products: perfumed bath foam.



Fate of the Fragrance:


When Cœur-Joie reached the American market in 1946, it arrived with the special glamour of something long awaited. Cue introduced it as the first French couturier perfume to appear in the United States since the war: a soft, feminine scent whose name, translated for American readers as “Joyous Heart,” suited the youthful spirit of the new postwar fashions. Rather than presenting the perfume as solemn luxury, the notice emphasized its lilting, “young-in-heart” quality—a fragrance meant to feel romantic, light-footed, and immediately lovable to women and men alike. It was an especially effective message in a world newly able to enjoy French fashion, beauty, and pleasure again after years of disruption.

Its packaging was inseparable from this appeal. Nina Ricci entrusted Cœur-Joie to Lalique, the celebrated French glassmaker, and the resulting flacon became one of the house’s most recognizable designs. It was a heart-shaped crystal bottle with an open center—often described as the famous “hole-hearted” bottle—an ingenious little object that was at once playful, romantic, and distinctly modern. In a white satin presentation box, the clear Lalique heart seemed less like ordinary packaging than a keepsake or jewel. The perfume was bottled, packaged, and sealed in France, preserving the precious authority of a true Paris import.

Lalique also adapted the idea into miniature and purse-sized forms. A small crystal flask, fitted with a gold screw cap and carried in a suede case resembling one made for a pocket comb, made Cœur-Joie unusually intimate and portable. A 1952 account credited Nina Ricci with introducing what was probably the first handbag perfume flask with Cœur-Joie in 1945. Its later “twin hearts” purse flacon made the concept still more charming: the perfume became a private object of adornment, something a woman could slip into her handbag as naturally as a compact, lipstick, or love token.

By the early 1950s, American advertising presented the Nina Ricci perfumes as the “sensation of Paris,” stressing that their French character was matched by the beauty and originality of their Lalique presentations. Cœur-Joie was positioned as the loveliest and most elegant of Paris imports—an elevated perfume, yet not an aloof one. Prices ranged from an accessible $4.50 for the purse flacon to $60 for the larger crystal bottles, while the tiny Lalique “Joyous Heart” miniatures sold for $2.00. Such offerings allowed women to buy either a modest touch of French luxury or a substantial crystal presentation meant to be displayed, cherished, and perhaps given as a particularly romantic gift.

The perfume’s public personality remained remarkably consistent through the decade. In 1954, it was called a “joyful, light-hearted, in-love fragrance,” words that perfectly explain why the heart-shaped bottle was so successful: the vessel and the perfume told the same story. Cœur-Joie was not advertised as dramatic seduction or exotic mystery, but as happiness made elegant—flowers, affection, youthful optimism, and the small ceremonial pleasure of wearing French perfume. Its heart-shaped Lalique bottle, “as sweet as a Valentine,” made that message instantly visible before the stopper was ever lifted.

Contemporary descriptions also reveal how its scent was perceived. A 1954 European guide called it “deliciously citrous,” drawing attention to the fresh, lemon-balm-like brightness of its opening. By 1958, Glamour described it as “for the young in heart,” with a heavenly jasmine base and a hint of spice. Together these accounts suggest a fragrance that began with buoyant freshness and developed into a soft, floral warmth: not a heavy white-flower perfume, but an elegant jasmine-violet-iris composition given animation by green and lightly spiced facets. In 1960, a perfume-materials reference recalled its melissa-like top note and floral lightness—valuable confirmation of the unusually fresh, aromatic character beneath its lush floral heart.

The 1960 book’s statement that Cœur-Joie was a perfume of the “late 1930s” is almost certainly an error or a confused recollection. The perfume was developed during the war and introduced in 1945, with its American appearance in 1946; its unmistakably postwar advertising history is well documented by the contemporary notices. The error is nevertheless revealing, because the perfume retained something of prewar French refinement—an elegance that may have made it seem, in retrospect, like a survivor of an earlier, more carefree Paris.

By the 1960s, Cœur-Joie was still part of Nina Ricci’s fragrance wardrobe, even appearing in the company’s perfume spray range alongside L’Air du Temps, Fille d’Ève, and Capricci. By 1981 it was reported to remain available in France, though no longer necessarily as visible internationally as Nina Ricci’s great dove-bottled success, L’Air du Temps. Collectors especially value its larger examples today: Cœur-Joie was one of the select postwar Nina Ricci perfumes whose bottles were actually made at the Lalique factory, not merely produced from an older Lalique mold. Its open-centered crystal heart remains a perfect physical expression of the name—Cœur-Joie, the heart made joyful.

Despite the quality and pedigree of Nina Ricci’s perfumes, Cœur-Joie, Capricci, Farouche, and Fleurs de Fleurs did not achieve the same commercial success in the American market that they enjoyed in Europe. In 1989, Lina Vitali, vice president of Parfums Nina Ricci USA, explained this difference as a matter of contrasting perfume ideals. Her view was that the French image of perfume was “romantic, feminine and sophisticated,” whereas the American image was more “aggressive, sexual and overpowering.” This should be understood as a period marketing observation rather than a fixed truth about all women on either side of the Atlantic, but it neatly describes the challenge facing the house in the United States.

Nina Ricci’s classic fragrances often expressed femininity through softness, detail, and suggestion. Cœur-Joie, with its fresh green floral opening, powdery iris-violet heart, and discreet woody warmth, was designed to charm at close range rather than announce itself across a room. Its beauty lay in refinement: the slow unfolding of jasmine, rose, neroli, and orris; the delicate tension between bright aldehydes and dry vetiver; and the intimate sensuality of its warm base. Such a composition suited the French ideal described by Vitali—a perfume as an enhancement to personal style, a finishing touch that made a woman feel more herself.

In the United States, however, the postwar and later twentieth-century market often favored fragrances with more immediate impact, greater sweetness, stronger diffusion, or a more overtly glamorous and seductive character. A subtle, floral perfume could be admired yet still be overshadowed by bolder scents whose personality was more quickly apparent at a department-store counter. Cœur-Joie may therefore have seemed exquisitely made but understated: a perfume for someone who appreciated the quiet luxury of a fresh flower arrangement in a glass conservatory rather than the dramatic flourish of a large bouquet in full bloom.

The difference also extended to the object itself. European customers were often thought to place particular importance on the flacon and presentation—the perfume bottle as a decorative possession, an expression of taste, and sometimes a small work of art. For Cœur-Joie, this was central to its identity. Lalique’s open-centered crystal heart transformed the perfume into a romantic keepsake, while its satin boxes, miniature versions, and suede-cased purse flacons extended the sense of French couture luxury. American buyers certainly admired such presentations, but the company believed that the decorative bottle and packaging carried greater cultural weight in Europe, where the ritual and visual poetry of perfume were more fully part of the purchase.

Cœur-Joie nevertheless remained on sale for decades after its original launch. Its appearance in a 1992 issue of Lear’s magazine confirms that it was still being advertised in the United States at that time, long after its first postwar success. As of 2026, it is no longer offered in Nina Ricci’s current fragrance range, which lists such perfumes as L’Air du Temps, the Nina collection, and Vénus de Nina Ricci, but not Cœur-Joie. The house still acknowledges Cœur-Joie as its first fragrance, and its history continues through Lalique collector editions and surviving vintage bottles.