Mon Seul Ami by Isabey, originally launched in 1914, bears a name that resonates with poetic intimacy and emotional vulnerability. Translated from French, Mon Seul Ami means “My Only Friend,” and is pronounced as mon sul ah-MEE. The phrase is tender, confessional—quietly aching. It suggests solitude, devotion, and the kind of trust one places only in something constant and loyal. At a time when the world was on the brink of chaos, the name would have struck a deeply emotional chord, especially with women facing the separation and uncertainty brought by World War I.
The timing of the perfume’s release cannot be overlooked. In 1914, as the First World War broke out, France was thrust into turmoil. Men went off to fight, and women were left to carry on in silence—working, waiting, and surviving. Against this somber backdrop, a perfume called “My Only Friend” could have served as both balm and companion. For many women, fragrance was more than mere adornment; it was emotional armor. It preserved a sense of normalcy, femininity, and connection to memories of love and better days. Perfume lingered on handkerchiefs, on letters, on keepsakes—a lingering trace of someone beloved. In that way, Mon Seul Ami could have been interpreted literally: a symbolic stand-in for the one who was far away, or lost.
As a French perfumery house, Isabey would have been acutely aware of the sensitivities of the wartime consumer. Launching a fragrance with such a name during that year was likely a delicate and deliberate gesture—a respectful nod to the emotional lives of women. It wasn’t a bombastic launch, but rather a perfume that quietly acknowledged the pain and endurance of its time. The perfume’s name alone would have resonated with women missing husbands, lovers, brothers, sons—offering a trace of warmth and reassurance amid grief and upheaval.

