Parfums Jacques Griffe

Jacques Griffe, born in Carcassonne, France, in 1910, was a remarkable figure in the world of fashion, known for his mastery of garment construction and his innovative use of fabric. His early career was shaped by the influence of his mother, a talented milliner, and his initial training as a tailor. However, it was his time spent with the legendary couturier Madeleine Vionnet that profoundly impacted his approach to design. Under Vionnet’s tutelage, Griffe honed his skills in handling the bias cut, a technique that would become a signature element in his work.

After refining his craft with Vionnet, Griffe went on to establish his own fashion house in the 1940s. His designs were characterized by their bold use of color and luxurious fabrics, reflecting his love for strong visual statements. Griffe was not only a master of construction but also a visionary who brought a sense of modernity and sophistication to his creations. His work resonated with the elegance of his mentor, Vionnet, while also incorporating his distinct flair for innovation.

Griffe’s career was also shaped by another significant influence—Captain Molyneux, a revered designer of the time, whom Griffe succeeded in the fashion world. This trio of influences—his mother’s artistry, Vionnet’s precision, and Molyneux’s legacy—combined to create a designer who was both technically adept and creatively inspired. Griffe’s boutique and ready-to-wear range became synonymous with quality and style, cementing his place as a master of French fashion in the mid-20th century.

The fragrances of Jacques Griffe:

• 1949 Griffonage
• 1953 Mistigri (spicy, warm perfume)
• 1957 Grilou (oriental)
• 1960 Enthousiasme 1 (spicy/dry floral chypre)
• Enthousiasme 2
• The French Line

Fodor's France, 1958

"Jacques Griffe. "Griffonage," "Mistigri," and "Grilou" are three notable offerings of this house; warm, tenacious, and youthful,"

Fodor's France, 1970:

 Jacques Griffe, "Griffonnage" (warm); "Mistigri" (tenacious). 

Griffonage:

Launched in 1949, Griffonage by Jacques Griffe draws inspiration from the French word for "scribbling" or "scrawl," suggesting a fragrance that embodies a playful and spontaneous spirit. This scent likely captures a sense of creativity and freedom, much like an artist's impulsive sketch that, despite its apparent randomness, forms a surprisingly cohesive and meaningful whole. Griffonage might be envisioned as a lively and modern fragrance, featuring a blend of green, aromatic notes, with subtle hints of spice or wood, resulting in a dynamic composition that challenges and defies conventional expectations.

Yet, despite its seemingly casual inspiration, Griffonage is far from a mere whimsical gesture. It is described as deep and resonant, without being overwhelming. The warm fragrance opens with the subtle yet profound presence of Bulgarian roses and citrus, offering a fresh yet rich introduction. As the scent evolves, there is a transition marked by oakmoss and ambergris, which gently prepare the senses for the deeper, more intense accords of vetiver, sandalwood, and patchouli. These earthy, woody notes are harmoniously intertwined with the rich, floral tonalities of jasmine and tuberose, adding a layer of refined elegance. Griffonage, then, is not just a fleeting scrawl—it is a carefully composed page, one that resonates and endures, much like a melody that lingers in the memory long after the music has ended.

L'Amour de l'art, 1950:

"Griffonage by Jacques Griffe: Deep music without being heavy, with subtle accompaniment of Bulgarian Roses and Citrus. A transition of oak moss and ambergris introduces the heavy accords of vetiver, sandalwood and patchouli, linked together by the rich tonalities of Jasmine and Tuberose: it is not a scribble...but a page that will remain."

Griffonage by Jacques Griffe is a fragrance that unfolds like a richly orchestrated symphony — deep and resonant, yet never oppressive. It hums with an elegant sort of passion, a perfume that doesn’t merely drift through the air but leaves an indelible impression, much like ink flowing deliberately across a page.

The first breath is a luminous overture, a bright, almost weightless harmony of citrus and Bulgarian rose. The citrus is crisp and exhilarating, a burst of sunlight that cuts through the air with a clarity that feels both refreshing and refined. Against this brightness, the Bulgarian rose offers a soft, velvety counterpoint — lush, with a gentle honeyed sweetness and a hint of spice. It’s a rose that hums rather than sings, tempering the sharper citrus with a touch of warmth and romance.

As the fragrance evolves, oakmoss and ambergris emerge like a subtle, grounding bridge. The oakmoss is cool and earthy, evoking the damp, shaded depths of an ancient forest, while the ambergris brings an elusive, oceanic warmth — soft, salty, and slightly animalic, lending a smooth, almost skin-like sensuality to the heart of the perfume. This transition is seamless, like a gentle descent from daylight into dusk.

Then, the deeper accords unfold, rich and complex yet perfectly balanced. Vetiver — smoky and grassy — lends an air of mystery, while Mysore sandalwood envelops it in a creamy, almost milky smoothness. Indonesian patchouli completes the trio, with its dark, earthy, and slightly camphorous tone giving the base a sense of quiet power. It’s a combination that could be heavy, but isn’t — each note leans into the next, creating a warm, lingering hum rather than an overpowering chord.

Binding it all together are the luminous white florals: Grasse jasmine and tuberose. The jasmine is rich and heady, but softened here, more like moonlight than sunshine, while the tuberose adds a creamy, almost narcotic depth. Together, they weave through the composition like a delicate refrain, keeping the base from ever feeling too dark or too somber.

Griffonage isn’t a scribble, as its name might suggest — it’s a deliberate, elegant composition, each note penned with intention. It’s a fragrance that lingers not as a memory, but as a presence — a page that refuses to be turned.

Mistigri:

Mistigri, introduced in 1953, translates to "kitty" or "tomcat" in French, a playful and mischievous name that suggests a fragrance with a warm, spicy character. This tenacious perfume likely opens with bold, spicy notes—perhaps clove or cinnamon—mingling with rich, warm undertones of amber or sandalwood. Mistigri would have been a cozy, inviting scent, ideal for someone with a confident, enigmatic personality. The warmth of the spices, combined with the sensual base notes, would create a lingering, memorable presence.

Harper's Bazaar, 1955;

"Jacques Griffe's "Mistigri," gay and mischievous, named for a fabled French cat."

The New Yorker, 1955:

"Jacques Griffe's spicy Mistigri is now around in an eau de toilette; $5.50 for a four-and-a-quarter-ounce bottle, at Bonwit Teller and Lord & Taylor."

Cue, 1957:

"And another couturier, Jacques Griffe, is competing in the fragrance sweepstakes with Mistigri (which means "cat"!)" 

Jacques Griffe’s Mistigri is a fragrance that purrs with playful mischief and elegant charm — much like the legendary French cat it’s named for. It’s a scent that feels alive, teasing the senses with a spirited, spicy-green energy that dances between lighthearted brightness and seductive warmth.

The opening is an exhilarating burst of Tuscan violet leaf and Italian basil, green and crisp yet touched with a hint of soft sweetness, like the cool air of an herb garden at dawn. Persian galbanum follows, its bitter, resinous sharpness cutting through the freshness, giving the fragrance an intriguing, untamed edge. Spanish rosemary and Hungarian clary sage lend an aromatic, almost medicinal clarity — but the scent never feels too serious. Calabrian bergamot and Paraguayan petitgrain lift the composition with a citrusy sparkle, while Provencal lavender hums quietly beneath it all, soft and herbaceous, like a distant memory of a sunlit field.

The heart of Mistigri unfurls with a daring blend of exotic spice. Malabar pepper and Zanzibar clove crackle with warmth, bold but never harsh, mingling with the rich, aromatic sweetness of Saigon cinnamon and the earthy, smoky depth of cumin. Jamaican nutmeg adds a comforting, almost creamy warmth, while Ceylon cardamom lifts the heart with a fresh, lemony sweetness, keeping the spices from becoming too heavy. This lively, mischievous core is balanced by an opulent floral bouquet: Grasse jasmine blooms with honeyed richness, Bulgarian rose lends a plush, velvety softness, and Dutch narcissus adds a green, almost wild floral note — like a field of untamed blooms. Nossi-Be ylang-ylang from Madagascar wraps the bouquet in a sultry, banana-cream warmth, hinting at the feline sensuality beneath the fragrance’s playful exterior.

As Mistigri settles, it reveals a luxurious, earthy base. Yugoslavian oakmoss gives a shadowy, mossy depth, grounding the airy top and spicy heart. Indonesian patchouli adds a dark, earthy richness, while Java vetiver brings a smoky, dry grassiness, evoking the feeling of sun-warmed fur. Tibetan musk hums softly, animalic and intimate, blending seamlessly with the golden warmth of Mexican vanilla and the creamy, sacred richness of Mysore sandalwood. Atlas cedar adds a final whisper of dry, woody elegance, while hints of resins linger like a purr in the air — smooth, warm, and just a little bit smoky.

Mistigri is more than a fragrance — it’s a character, a presence that flirts and plays, only to reveal a deeper, more alluring side. Gay and mischievous, yes — but also sophisticated, warm, and unforgettable, like the cat it’s named for: sleek, untamable, and forever captivating.

Grilou:

By 1957, Griffe released Grilou, an oriental fragrance that likely embodied the exotic and mysterious allure typical of this genre. The name "Grilou" could be a whimsical, invented term, suggesting a scent that is both playful and sophisticated. Grilou might have featured deep, resinous notes of incense, paired with sweet spices like cardamom or vanilla, and enriched with opulent florals such as jasmine or ylang-ylang. This perfume would evoke a sense of mystery and sensuality, enveloping the wearer in a warm, seductive aura.

The New Yorker, 1957:

"It's a fine perfume for grown women, and so is Jacques Griffe's promising new entry, Grilou (Bonwit Teller), which starts at $5.50, for a quarter ounce, and goes to $49.50, for two ounces."

Enthousiasme 1 & Enthousiasme 2:

In 1960, Jacques Griffe launched two versions of Enthousiasme, with each iteration offering a distinct olfactory experience.

Enthousiasme 1 was likely a spicy, dry floral chypre, a fragrance that combined the earthy, woody notes typical of chypres with the lively energy of spices and florals. This scent might have opened with vibrant, spicy notes—perhaps pepper or clove—leading into a heart of dry, aromatic florals like rose or carnation. The chypre base, featuring oakmoss and patchouli, would anchor the composition with a sense of depth and sophistication.

Enthousiasme 2, while sharing a similar name, might have offered a different scent profile—perhaps a more floral or woody interpretation of the Enthousiasme concept. This version could have emphasized the brighter, more effervescent aspects of the fragrance, with lighter, fresher top notes and a softer, more refined base, catering to a different facet of the wearer's personality.

Each of these perfumes reflects Jacques Griffe's ability to translate his design ethos into the realm of scent, creating fragrances that were as bold, innovative, and elegant as the fashions he crafted.