Le Roi Soleil was originally a fragrance by Elsa Schiaparelli, for which her good friend Salvador Dali designed the bottle "Sonnenkönig." It was meant to mark the end of the war in 1946 and symbolize the hope that France now placed on the future.
Elsa and Salvador often collaborated, bringing to market bottles, furniture, jewelry, and of course haute couture that were tinged with surrealism and far ahead of their time. The original packaging of the bottle Le Roi Soleil, crafted from Baccarat crystal, was a large shell made of gilded metal. I was fortunate enough to see and touch an original presentation of this 1946 bottle in Chicago in 1998, but I was about $20,000 short for the purchase. Even in 1946, the bottle was hardly affordable for ordinary mortals. In 1997, the Baccarat bottle was released again in a limited edition, this time filled with the new version of the fragrance, launched by Parfums Salvador Dali. The price in 1997 was 1500 Deutschmarks / 750 Euros, and there were 3000 pieces worldwide. The packaging this time was a small cabinet covered in shocking pink velvet (a nod to Elsa's fondness for this color), in which a small drawer held the pure perfume in a gold-colored container that could be used to refill the Baccarat bottle. The 3 pieces that were available in Düsseldorf in 1997 were sold out on the day of release.
But this time, even the average person on the street should be able to afford Le Roi Soleil, and so at the same time, Eau de Toilette, Eau de Parfum, and perfume in spray bottles were released at moderate prices.
To what extent the scent resembled that of 1946, I cannot judge, as I have never had the pleasure of smelling the "vintage."
But today I opened the 1997 Baccarat bottle, which had been stored cool and dark since then, to get an impression of this "vintage."
The fragrance absolutely lives up to the dream bottle.
The top note is extraordinarily juicy-fruity. The apple is present, but it does not stand out particularly; rather, it contributes a light fruity sweetness to the accompanying citrus fruits. This feels completely natural, in contrast to many contemporary citrus top notes.
The heart note logically moves into floral territory. Here too, a fulminant accord of flowers creates a bouquet of shimmering beauty. No single flower stands out, evoking the association "Flower Show on the Island of Mainau," not sweet, not piercing, not intrusive, just beautifully floral.
The base is surprising. I would have expected something chypre, but that is not the case. The base is creamy and velvety. Only now does a warm sweetness join in.
The fragrance descends as it appears: A celebration of light, life, and the sun!
Great description from the treasure chest of your perfume knowledge. I find all the Dali bottles pretty ugly, but this one did pique my interest. Even if the king looks a bit daft.
Oh no, I had it! Bought it around 1990, and I've never been able to get it again! I read that Elsa and Dali designed the scent together? I would break my perfume abstinence vow for that...