Reviewing the Vatican Pharmacy Perfume

Purchased at the gift shop.

May 20, 2025

Ciao from Roma, where I’m here to see God’s number one subscriber (Il Papa). Rude that the conclave couldn’t wait a week for me… But the timing was actually perfect, because had I been here earlier, I wouldn’t have been able to go on the “after dark” tour of the Sistine Chapel that my boyfriend got me for my birthday.

Of course, it was sick. The tour guide kept referring to Michelangelo as “moody,” and I saw the little conclave chimney!!!! But the real splendors awaited me in the gift shop… I wanted some Leo XIV merch, and was surprised that no enterprising street vendors sold any during his inaugural mass on Sunday morning. (Hi, Oprah?) There wasn’t any in the Vatican Museum gift shop yet, either. However, I did discover the existence of the Vatican Pharmacy, which sells perfumes, creams, aftershave, room fresheners, and soaps, among other things.

According to the Internet, the Farmacia Vaticana was founded in 1874 as a reserve of medicines for the Pope and cardinals, but now, anyone can go if they have a prescription/temporary pass. Located inside the Vatican City, which is its own country, it has a larger selection and lower prices than regular pharmacies, as it’s duty-free and follows its own rules and regulations. You can get a COVID shot there, but you cannot get condoms or Plan B. You can also get some “home-brewed elixirs,” according to one Catholic newspaper I read, including a "soft-smelling" cologne and a “cure for dandruff.”

The selection is more limited at the Vatican Museum gift shop, but I was most curious about what the perfumes smelled like, so I got a tester pack for €17.50. It included four scents: Incense, Myrrh, Gold, and Mystical Rose. (*The Vatican does not take Amex… YET!!!)

The Vatican scents are made in Italy and produced by Mavive S.p.A., a perfume company based in Venice. (So, no nuns or friars involved.) The first three ingredients for each are alcohol, “fragrance,” and water, followed by many different long, scary-sounding words like Tetramethylhydrocypiperidinol.