Michelle by Balenciaga c1979

Michelle by Balenciaga, launched in 1979, is more than just a perfume—it is a portrait in scent, painted with elegance and emotional depth. Named after one of Balenciaga’s premiere models, the name “Michelle” evokes a feminine mystique, timeless beauty, and intimate glamour. It is pronounced Mee-SHELL in French, softly lyrical and romantic, with a melodic rise and fall that lingers like a whispered name. In French, “Michelle” is the feminine form of Michel, meaning “Who is like God?”—a name with biblical roots that implies both reverence and grace. The very sound of it conjures dusky glamour, silky sophistication, and the refined presence of a muse, immortalized in scent.

The choice of name was also likely influenced by cultural associations of the time. According to the beauty industry exposé The Skin Game, Balenciaga originally hoped to tie the fragrance’s marketing to the wistful 1965 Beatles ballad “Michelle,” with its haunting refrain and French phrases—a move that would have imbued the perfume with both romance and pop-cultural resonance. However, when the Beatles refused permission, the fragrance launched simply as Michelle—independent, unlicensed, and perhaps all the more intriguing for its quiet confidence.

In 1979, the world stood on the threshold between two decades. The disco era was fading, but its glittering afterglow still shimmered in fashion and beauty. This was the end of the Me Decade, a time of personal liberation, individualism, and sensory indulgence. Designers were pushing boundaries—shoulder pads grew broader, makeup bolder, and scents richer and more complex. In perfumery, the late 1970s were a transition from the green florals and animalic chypres of earlier years toward the big, statement-making perfumes of the 1980s. Into this landscape, Michelle entered not with bombast, but with a measured intensity—a quietly commanding presence wrapped in satin rather than sequins.

Le Dix by Balenciaga c1947

Le Dix by Balenciaga, launched in 1947, is a fragrance steeped in elegance, legacy, and the quiet assertion of identity. The name “Le Dix” (pronounced luh dees in French) quite literally means “The Ten,” a direct reference to the location of Balenciaga’s Parisian couture house: 10 Avenue George V. This wasn’t simply an address—it was a declaration. Situated in the heart of Paris’s golden triangle, a district known for haute couture, luxury, and timeless sophistication, Number 10 stood as the epicenter of Balenciaga’s artistic vision. By naming his debut fragrance Le Dix, Balenciaga linked scent to place, and perfume to the deeply personal geography of style and prestige.

The name Le Dix evokes imagery of quiet refinement—a polished brass number on a grand townhouse door, discreetly elegant clients ascending the marble steps to a fitting, the rustle of silk linings, the soft hush of luxury. There is intimacy in the name, as if one is being granted entrance into a world of rarefied beauty. For the women of the postwar period, just emerging from years of austerity and constraint, a perfume called Le Dix would have spoken of a return to glamour, a reawakening of feminine self-expression. It whispered of Paris, of private salons, of ladylike charm with impeccable taste. The name alone promised a certain kind of life.

Launched in the same year as Dior’s New Look, Le Dix emerged during a transformative moment in both fashion and perfumery. The year 1947 marked a cultural pivot—away from the functional silhouettes and utilitarian scents of wartime, and toward opulence, structure, and femininity reimagined. Balenciaga, always the couturier of architectural grace, infused his perfume with the same aesthetic. Le Dix is an aldehydic floral chypre, in keeping with the grand French tradition established by Chanel No. 5, but with a distinct voice of its own: softer, more romantic, whispering rather than commanding.

Prelude by Balenciaga c1982

Launched in 1982, Prelude by Balenciaga entered the world under a name carefully chosen to evoke both anticipation and emotion. The word Prelude comes from the Latin praeludere, meaning "to play beforehand"—prae meaning "before" and ludere, "to play." The modern form we use today is French in origin, and it is pronounced "pray-lood" (or in English, often "prel-yood"). In the musical world, a prelude is a short, often expressive composition that sets the tone for a larger piece. But beyond music, the word conveys the delicate tension before something meaningful begins: a glance before a kiss, the hush before an overture, the quiet flutter of expectation.

Choosing Prelude as a perfume name instantly evokes a feeling of romantic suspense. It is a word that carries refinement, elegance, and subtle sensuality. It paints a picture of a woman pausing before entering a ballroom, of twilight before evening, of the first stirring of desire before it blooms. It suggests not just a moment, but a mood—one filled with potential, softness, and allure.

The early 1980s was a transitional period in culture, fashion, and perfumery. The era is often referred to as the beginning of the Power Decade, when the extravagance and boldness of the late '70s gave way to more structured, assertive styles. Women were stepping more prominently into professional spaces, and fashion responded with broad-shouldered silhouettes, sharply tailored suits, and an emphasis on control and confidence. Yet despite this assertiveness, there remained a strong undercurrent of femininity—romantic ruffles, silky blouses, and opulent evening wear were also in vogue. Designers like Yves Saint Laurent, Claude Montana, and Karl Lagerfeld helped shape this balance between strength and softness. Perfumes, too, began to reflect this duality.

In fragrance, the late 1970s had been dominated by bold chypres and animalic florals—scents like Opium (1977), Charlie (1973), and Chloe (1975) which spoke with volume. But by the early '80s, there was a gentle shift toward more polished compositions—still rich, but more refined. Prelude fit this shift gracefully. Though it opened with a sparkling aldehydic top—an echo of earlier decades—it soon revealed a spicy floral heart and a warm, animalic base. This structure allowed it to balance freshness with depth, youth with sophistication.

Rumba by Balenciaga c1988

Rumba by Balenciaga, launched in 1988, marked a pivotal moment in the house’s history. It was the first fragrance introduced after the acquisition of the Balenciaga brand by the Jacques Bogart Group in 1986—a move that signaled a new era of commercial ambition for a house once known for its aristocratic restraint. The name Rumba itself is telling, both in its choice and its timing.

The word rumba originates from Spanish, where it initially referred to a style of Afro-Cuban music and dance. Pronounced ROOOM-bah, the term conjures images of sultry, rhythmic movement, candlelit clubs in Havana, the tension of a glance across the dance floor, and the slow burn of a night unfolding. Rumba is sensual, dramatic, and deeply expressive—a word that evokes physicality, music, emotional intensity, and cultural richness. It is not a subtle word, nor a passive one. By naming the fragrance Rumba, Balenciaga departed from the restrained elegance of its past and leaned fully into an era where boldness and glamour defined modern femininity.

The year 1988 sat at the tail end of a decade that had been marked by excess, power dressing, and a cultural obsession with status and presence. This was the late '80s, a time of shoulder pads, high gloss, lacquered lips, and sculptural silhouettes. In perfumery, it was the era of powerhouse fragrances—bold, often opulent, long-lasting scents that made a statement. Think Poison by Dior (1985), Obsession by Calvin Klein (1985), Knowing by Estée Lauder (1988). These were not whispers of perfume; they were declarations. In this climate, Rumba made perfect sense.

To a woman of the late 1980s, Rumba would have presented itself not merely as a perfume, but as an experience—a vivid accessory to bold red lips and a plunging neckline. The name alone would suggest mystery, movement, and allure. It implies a fragrance that doesn’t just sit politely on the skin but dances—leaving a trail, commanding attention, and inviting closeness.

Cialenga by Balenciaga c1973

Cialenga, a fragrance by Balenciaga, was introduced to the market in 1973, crafted by the renowned perfumer Jacques Jantzen. The name "Cialenga" is intriguing, as it doesn’t have a direct translation or clear meaning in any particular language, which suggests that Balenciaga may have chosen it for its abstract qualities and the images it evokes. The name feels exotic, mysterious, and perhaps even slightly foreign, with an almost lyrical quality that seems to dance off the tongue. This makes it both memorable and captivating, much like the fragrance itself. When spoken, "Cialenga" conjures visions of elegance and allure, and perhaps, of a lush, verdant garden rich with blooms. It’s a name that invites curiosity and promises a sensory escape—an invitation that would appeal to women looking for sophistication and an air of mystery in their fragrance choices.

"Who is Cialenga? A magnificent obsession. A swirl of jasmine, a whisper of wildflowers, a fragrance so hauntingly beautiful, a man could get lost in it..."

Cialenga is a soft, fresh green floral chypre, a composition that captures the era's sophisticated tastes. This fragrance opens with delicate fruity notes, revealing a heart of floral splendor featuring jasmine, Taif roses, and hyacinth. These floral elements blend seamlessly with the exotic, warm tones of ylang-ylang, grounding sandalwood, and earthy patchouli, creating a fragrance that is both sensuous and grounded. Its unique profile would likely evoke images of lush, green landscapes kissed by morning dew, with flowers in full bloom—an experience that feels both familiar and dreamlike.

Ho Hang by Balenciaga c1971

Ho Hang by Balenciaga, launched in 1971, arrived during a time of tremendous cultural upheaval and self-expression. The early 1970s marked a pivotal shift in fashion, music, and identity—where tradition and rebellion danced hand in hand. Gender roles were softening, Eastern philosophies were captivating Western minds, and style was veering away from rigid formality toward something freer, earthier, and more introspective. Into this climate of open-mindedness and experimentation came Ho Hang, a men's fragrance that felt both exotic and modern, softly daring and elegantly restrained.

The name Ho Hang itself feels enigmatic at first glance—unfamiliar and alluring. Rooted in Cantonese, “Ho” (好) serves as an adverb meaning “very” or “truly,” while “Hang” (香) translates as “fragrant.” Together, Ho Hang—more accurately pronounced "Herng"—means something akin to “very fragrant” or “truly aromatic.” In a Western luxury context, the name might have been chosen not only for its direct meaning but also for its musical, international sound—suggesting an imagined voyage to the East, a meeting of refinement and sensuality. At a time when French couturiers were beginning to look outside the traditional canon of European inspiration, Balenciaga’s choice to use a Chinese phrase was both cosmopolitan and forward-looking.

The scent itself—a fresh, spicy, woody fougère—was crafted by master perfumers Raymond Chaillan and Jacques Jantzen. Opening with bracing lemon and aromatic herbs, it quickly deepens into a wooded, spiced heart, grounded by classic fougère elements like lavender, moss, and dry woods. It manages to be masculine and clean without falling into the sharp, soapy clichés of the time. While in line with other 1970s men's fragrances that emphasized freshness and greenery (like Azzaro Pour Homme or Paco Rabanne Pour Homme), Ho Hang distinguished itself with an understated exoticism and a surprisingly shared sensibility.