Cabochard (1959)
by Grès

Cabochard is one of my all time favourites. Usually, chypre cuir fragrances are very dry and sometimes really hard. Some feminine fragrances in this category can be mistaken for masculine EDTs. Not Cabochard! This great perfume has dark green notes, rich woody notes and smokey leathery notes but they are all softened by the splendid floral elements which contribute to making the entire composition truly feminine. Many years ago, I came across a rather impressive grey-haired business-woman dressed in a very chic marine blue trouser suit. She wore Cabochard with such elegance and confidence she made all the heads turn. From this moment on, I have thought of Cabochard as the perfect fragrance for daring and self-assertive women.

23rd November, 2011.

I would never have imagined in a hundred years that I would enjoy leather-based scents. The thought of leather makes me cringe, however when I come to smelling leather scents, I am suitably impressed.

Cabochard, along with Bandit by Robert Piguet, are the essential, classic leather fragrances. From this fragrance I get a lot of dry, smokey and powdery leather and woods.

There are many floral notes in this composition that keeps Cabochard from becoming too masculine. The way that this fragrance has been presented, makes me think of a strong, independant woman that appears tough on the outside but is loving and feminine on the inside.

Cabochard summed up in my own words is a sexy scent with attitude. Interestingly I was nearly going to say that Cabochard smelt like an elegant, black leather handbag. It just so happens that after leaving the perfume store, a few doors down I walked past a store that sold handbags and as I walked past I inhaled the aroma of leather. In no way does Cabochard prove similar to that shiny, brand new, leathery smell we all know and love.

I'm not sure as to how much this fragrance differs from its pre-formulated, vintage self, however the Cabochard as it is now is very wearable and certainly unique.

27th August, 2011.

I never had the chance to smell the original Cabochard yet, but I've to say that the current formulation still smells pretty good. It opens with a bitter green accord while extremely pitched citruses float around. Floral patterns make their appearance together with animalic leather notes adding body and complexity to this extremely influential fragrance.

A point of strength of this composition is the appearantly "simple smell" that makes of it an easy option for leather beginners as well as a satysfying experience for the most trained noses. I trust more aknowledged reviewrers than I, that current Cabochard has almost nothing to do with the vintage version, but IMO it still smells much better than the majority of today's mass market fragrances.

While Cabochard is anything but aged, it still has a remarkable old-fashioned vibe that works as a reminder of its status as a classic leather-chypre. Definitely unisex. A mandatory try!

20th August, 2011.

I used to wear the old Cabochard, so I bought a bottle recently just for old times sake and to see what they had done to it. I'm a die hard fan of the old version, but yes, sometimes it could be very uncompromising as an old dame of its type. The tobacco and leather could sometimes get quite harsh and a bit fag/old ashtray. This one is more linear, but I think actually more wearable because it has been lightened up. I'm not normally a fan of any reformulations, but in this case I quite like this one. Even enough to write a review.

It's like a very recognisable cousin and still deserves to be in the same family with some merit to it. The lack of ooomph within hasn't made it a nasty perfume, just a much paler self. I'm wearing it anyway.... and i'm pleased I bought it. It's dry and sultry still.

12nd July, 2011.

I have good news and bad news about the new formulation of Cabochard. First, here's the bad news. Much ado has been made about Cabochard's formula having been changed, and the consensus it that it's for the worse. I have never smelled any earlier versions of this, but based on what I'm smelling now, I can understand the disappointment. Cabochard was legendary, and was apparently a very rich, luxurious and complex scent. What I'm smelling now is anything but. It's simply a bare, stripped-down light leather scent, with no complexity at all. It's not terrible by any stretch, but certainly not the stuff of legends. It's boring.

The good news is that Cabochard now is an excellent fragrance for any man or woman looking to explore what leather fragrances are like for the first time. This is a pure leather scent, and nothing else. It's a light, buttery smelling leather, and it will give any newcomer a good taste for the leather genre. It smells good too. I wouldn't wear it because it's just too simple and linear for my taste, but this does smell good, and you may get a lot of compliments wearing this. Cabochard is totally wearable by either a woman or a man.

MY RATING: 6/10

30th May, 2011.

Expectation works against Cabochard, poor dear. Many compare it in its current form to a vintage model. I’ve never smelled vintage Cabochard, so that expectation isn’t an issue. My expectation, and I’ll own it, comes from Cabochard’s family resemblance to Aramis by Aramis and therefore to Estée Lauder’s Azurée. All are leather chypres originally created by Bernard Chant. I have versions of Aramis and Azurée bought within the last five years---ostensibly current issue. They are spectacular in recipe and ingredients, and can be compared head to head (to head) with any other leather chypres, whether niche or designer. Cabochard, sadly, cannot. Not to be simply judgmental, I’ll say that Cabochard is like a grainy, blurry photo of either Aramis or Azurée. I can see that the topnotes are meant to capture the same strong, dry bitterness as found in either of the other two, but it comes off as both shrill and thin at the same time. And it falls apart so quickly! Within five minutes it becomes clear that Cabochard won’t venture down either the leather or chypre paths, instead becoming a disorganized but harsh dry woody fragrance.

I won’t flog a dead horse. I’ll just say that Aramis proves that Cabochard need not be so bad. The Cabochard dilemma makes me consider a few angles on the difficulties of reformulation. I know that reformulation has always occurred in perfumery. This current quandry, though, due firstly to restriction on ingredients and then the meanness of the companies ordering the reformulation, seems to be particular to our time.

Some thoughts.

Zombie or Ghost?
I’d call Cabochard the unequivocal zombie, dead but still lurching among us. The name is the same, the bottle is a knock-off of the original, the juice is a cheap, cynical reformulation. Cheap, since clearly no quality ingredients were harmed in its making. Cynical, as it rides on the longstanding reputation of both the vintage perfume and the perfumer, but doesn’t offer either quality or creativity in the reformulation.

There are quite a few ghosts out there, but who they are will depend on your perspective. I find the current Vetiver by Guerlain sensational. I vaguely remember Vetiver back as far as the 1980s, and while the current rendering might be different, it is still my favorite vetiver by yards. For many, though, it is fallen just enough from its former state that they won’t wear it. Vintage Vent Vert is universally acclaimed, the 1990 version by Calice Becker was apparently a welcome ghost, and the current version is generally panned (zombie.)

Quality Reformulation
Whether done covertly (Mitsouko? Chanel 5? Habit Rouge?) openly (Cuir de Lancome ) by full-on resurrection (Azzaro Couture, Robert Piguet’s Baghari) or some combination of the above (Aramis Gentleman’s Collection) quality, money, consideration and talent pay off. (Quick note, of the acknowledged reformulations that are highly praised, it is startling how often the names of Becker and Aurélian Guichard come up.) Restrictions on the use of classic components is a drag. Fortunately, though, innovations in chemistry and botany give us powerful new tools.

Maintain the Quality of your Heritage Products
Sounds like a simple strategy but I don’t imagine that it’s necessarily easy, with changing access to botanicals and year to year fluctuations. Some make solid efforts in this direction, Chanel and Guerlain being good examples. Others, less so. I’ll leave it up to you to identify these houses. Special mention should really be made here of Estée Lauder’s success. It’s heritage products (eg. Azurée, Knowing, Alliage) continue to be available and at remarkable prices (take that, Guerlain Derby.)

Die a Good Death
There are so many vintage perfumes that lived great lives, were a gift to those who wore them, and then went away, whether remembered today or not. I’m all for preservation, and recognize that the art of perfumery remains largely undocumented and without theoretical consideration in the formal sense. There should be as many institutions like Osmothèque as there are modern art museums. The Theory of Perfume should be an elective in mainstream universities. (I’m not kidding.) But I also recognize that perfumery is an art that, like dance, is experiential and temporal. In fact, this aspect of both dance and perfume is both desirable and noble. It helps me to feel alive to be in the midst of something beautiful that will in fact end.

Simply, Change
Robert Piguet’s line is a good example of the value of multiple strategies. Bandit, Fracas, Baghari, Futur---reformulate to the original specs as best you can with good intentions, quality components and creative talent. But then there’s Visa. What a simple, smartly executed notion: keep the name, allow a great perfumer (again Guichard) to reincarnate it. No deception, no lie, no marketing sleight-of-hand. Visa isn’t an attempt to recreate the original. It takes the qualities and intentions of the original and then gives us something novel. Piguet’s latest, Douglas Hannant, a straight-up new fragrance, is an equal member in the line with the icons Bandit and Fracas.

Find a New Solution
Sure, there are whole categories of fragrance that are new—candied gourmands, aquatics, transparent orientals. But there is also an attempt to reinterpret a genre that’s been stymied. I’ve never tried 31 Rue Cambon, but I respect its statement of intent: to recreate the chypre without oakmoss. Successful? Not? I’ll leave it up to you who wear it. What I appreciate is the attempt to deconstruct the chypre, step away from it, weigh its abstract qualities, and reconsider them with a different construction. There is something intriguing about this approach. The perfumer must be passionate about a form, yet disinterested in the analysis. I have faith that this will give us some great perfumes.

6th February, 2011. (Last Edited: 8th March, 2011.)