The choice of the name Sotto Voce communicates Laura Biagiotti’s desire to craft a fragrance that speaks softly yet leaves a lasting impression. Borrowed from Italian musical and theatrical notation, sottovoce literally means “under the voice,” indicating a hushed or confidential tone. Pronounced in as soh‑TOH VOH‑cheh, the phrase evokes the intimacy of a secret shared just for two, a gentle murmur rather than a bold proclamation. In perfumery, this name suggests a scent that unfolds discreetly—an aromatic whisper that draws others in rather than pushing them away.
Visually and emotionally, Sotto Voce conjures images of flickering candlelight in a dimly lit Venetian salon, the hush of velvet drapes, and the soft rustle of silk at a moonlit ball. It calls forth emotions of intrigue and quiet confidence, that delightful tension between what is revealed and what remains concealed. It is less about announcing oneself to the world and more about sharing a private moment of elegance and allure.
Launched in 1996, Sotto Voce arrived at a moment when fashion was transitioning from the stark minimalism of the early ’90s into a richer, more textural aesthetic. Hemlines were lengthening again, accessories grew bolder, and there was a renewed appetite for individual expression. In perfumery, the decade saw the rise of both gourmand scents—think Thierry Mugler’s Angel (1992)—and more intricate floral‑oriental‑woody hybrids. Consumers sought fragrances that combined warmth and sweetness with depth and longevity, reflecting a desire for personal signature scents rather than mass‑market blockbusters.
For the women of the mid‑’90s, a perfume called Sotto Voce would have felt both modern and refreshingly understated. It answered a burgeoning trend for fragrances that whispered sophistication instead of shouting luxury. In an era when power dressing gave way to more nuanced silhouettes, Sotto Voce mirrored this shift: complex and well‑structured beneath a veil of delicate florals, it offered a sense of quiet empowerment.
