Jetons de Maison Close: The Secret Currency of Parisian Pleasure Houses
- Daniel Holland
- Oct 3
- 6 min read
Most antiques are admired for their craftsmanship, their noble connections, or their place in history. But some objects tell a more intimate story, one that whispers from behind velvet curtains and the half-lit rooms of a hidden Paris. Among the more unusual survivors of the city’s past are the jetons de maison close — brothel tokens that mimic ordinary coins on one side but reveal an altogether different purpose on the other. With imperial profiles and decorative motifs on the face, their reverse often carried highly explicit engravings. These weren’t coins of the state but the private currency of desire, minted for a shadow economy where money changed hands silently, and discretion was worth as much as gold.
Paris by Gaslight: The World of the Belle Époque
The late 19th century is often remembered as Paris’s golden age — the Belle Époque. It was the era of the Eiffel Tower, of café society, of Impressionist canvases and absinthe-drenched nights. But it was also a period when the sex industry flourished openly, though regulated by the state. Licensed brothels, or maisons closes, operated in almost every district of the city.
These establishments ranged from discreet rooms above cafés to opulent palaces of pleasure, decorated with silk wallpaper, stained glass, and perfumed baths. The most famous, such as Le Chabanais or Le One-Two-Two, catered to kings, aristocrats, and wealthy industrialists. Within their doors, indulgence was treated with the same formality as any other Parisian luxury.
And just like fine dining had menus and wine lists, the brothels had their own “menu” — one that required a special kind of token.
The Practical Magic of Brothel Tokens
At first glance, a jeton de maison close looked harmless. Some resembled standard coins, complete with laurel-wreathed profiles of emperors or symbols of the republic. Others featured ornamental patterns that gave nothing away. Yet the reverse side often betrayed their true nature: erotic imagery so explicit that it needed no words to describe what was on offer.
The tokens functioned like prepaid vouchers. A client, upon entering, purchased them at the reception. Instead of fumbling through awkward conversation, he could slip the appropriate token to a chosen companion. Each design corresponded to a particular service, ensuring both clarity and discretion.
For the madam, the system brought order. At the end of the night, each sex worker would hand in the tokens she had received, and payments were calculated accordingly. Of course, how fairly the women were compensated depended on the house, but the system itself gave structure to what might otherwise have been a chaotic economy.
Discretion and Control
Why tokens instead of cash? The answer lies in the social codes of the time. Respectability mattered enormously in the Belle Époque. For wealthy men, often married, sometimes holding public office, the ability to keep transactions discreet was crucial. Tokens allowed them to conduct their business without uttering a compromising word.
There was also a logistical side. Brothels wanted to keep money out of the rooms, both to reduce theft and to make accounting easier. Tokens standardised pricing, eliminated haggling, and prevented misunderstandings.
In many ways, they worked like the casino chips we still use today. Just as chips replace banknotes to streamline gambling, brothel tokens replaced cash to streamline desire.
Ancient Echoes: The Roman Spintriae
Though Paris’s tokens may seem like a uniquely 19th-century invention, they were really reviving an older idea. The Romans had their spintriae, small bronze or brass discs, often showing a number on one side and an erotic scene on the other.
Archaeologists have uncovered dozens of these tokens, and while their purpose is debated, the prevailing theory is that they were used in brothels. The numbered side could have indicated price or service, while the explicit side left no room for misinterpretation.
The similarities with Parisian jetons are striking. Both offered discretion. Both created a standardised economy around sex. And both remind us that wherever pleasure becomes commerce, humans invent systems of tokens, tickets, or counters to manage it.
The Emperor’s Second Life
One of the most curious aspects of the French tokens is their imagery. Many bore the profile of Napoleon III, whose reign defined much of mid-19th-century Paris. How did the face of the Emperor, the symbol of state power, end up in the bedrooms of maisons closes?
The explanation is simple pragmatism. Many brothel tokens were re-struck using outdated or decommissioned coins. These coins no longer carried legal value in circulation but made excellent blanks for re-minting. The result: Napoleon III’s face staring up from tokens that now promised something very different from imperial legitimacy.
The irony is hard to ignore. Napoleon III, a man not without his own scandals, became an unwitting patron saint of Parisian vice.
The Maisons Closes and Their Economies
Not every brothel used tokens, but some of the most famous certainly did. Le Chabanais, perhaps the most luxurious bordello in Paris, was renowned for its themed rooms — a Moorish chamber, a Japanese salon, even an opulent Louis XV room. Here, foreign dignitaries and French elites indulged in fantasies, and tokens played their part in making the system seamless.
Le One-Two-Two, another celebrated establishment, operated on an even grander scale during the interwar years, with more than forty rooms. Though slightly later than the height of the Belle Époque, it too used variations of tokens or tickets to keep transactions discreet.
For the women, tokens meant they had tangible proof of services rendered. In a trade where exploitation was rife, having something to hand over to the madam at least provided a record. It was imperfect, but it was something.
Collecting the Risqué
Today, these tokens have become prized objects for collectors. They sit at the crossroads of numismatics and erotica, appealing to historians, curators, and curious individuals alike.
Auction houses occasionally feature them, though they are less common than regular coins. Their survival owes much to chance, tucked away in drawers, kept as souvenirs, or forgotten in boxes of mixed tokens. When they appear, they often fetch handsome sums, especially if they feature particularly explicit engravings or come from a well-documented brothel.
Collectors sometimes debate whether to treat them as historical curiosities or as adult artefacts. But that ambiguity is part of their fascination. They are tokens of human desire, of a world usually hidden from official histories.
The Material Culture of Desire
What do these small discs really tell us? More than one might think. They show that sex work, like any other trade, developed its own infrastructure. They reveal how societies balanced morality with pragmatism, creating systems that allowed forbidden pleasures to flourish just out of sight.
They also remind us of the women who lived within this system — whose labour was counted out in brass and bronze, whose nights were measured not in hours but in tokens slipped into their hands.
And they tie Paris to Pompeii, linking the frescoed walls of Roman lupanars to the velvet-draped salons of Montmartre. Across centuries and empires, the same needs — for discretion, for control, for organisation — produced remarkably similar solutions.
Conclusion
The jetons de maison close of Paris are more than risqué trinkets. They are tangible remnants of a shadow economy, a reminder that beneath the polished image of the Belle Époque lay a thriving world of regulated desire.
Like the spintriae of Rome, they stand as proof that where there is commerce, there is system. Where there is pleasure, there is infrastructure. And where there is history, there are always hidden layers waiting to be uncovered — sometimes stamped right onto a coin.
To hold one today is to feel the weight of more than metal. It is to hold a story in your hand: of empire and indulgence, of women’s labour and men’s secrets, of Paris by gaslight and Rome by torchlight.
Sources
McAleer, John. Coinage and Culture in Nineteenth-Century Paris. Routledge, 2017.
Clarke, John R. Looking at Lovemaking: Constructions of Sexuality in Roman Art. University of California Press, 1998.
Lyon, Martyn. Sex in Paris, 1800–1939. Oxford University Press, 2004.
Maiuri, Amedeo. Pompeii and Herculaneum: Living Cities of the Dead. Thames & Hudson, 1960.
Numismatic Museum of Paris, Catalogue of Jetons and Tokens, 19th Century Collection.
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