Chamade Extract

(Extrait made in Oct 1983) What to say about this perfume. No description is going to be just and sufficient. It is recognizably Jean Paul Guerlain: every note speaks at the perfect and intentional volume, the staging and evolution of the fragrance's accords is orchestrated like a beautiful ballet, and like all Guerlain extraits it takes you on a journey that is going to turn and twist for hours and hours. What is most readily apparent upon the application are the hyacinth, rose, and jasmine accords. They are potent and beautiful. Throughout the life of the fragrance, and the opening is no exception, there are ample doses of powdery aldehydes. There is a definite green and herbal quality, and floral without a doubt, but perhaps flowers that are only beginning to bloom and haven't put out their full aroma yet. As it dries down - nearly 4 hours later - the youthful green but floral energy is still that, but the flowers have completely bloomed - gone is the greenness, making way for mature florals and a touch of sweetness. It's a beautiful transition - thump thump thump goes my heart. At this point, and then several hours more into the fragrance, the base accords have more of a say as the bright woods, ambers, and vanilla warm you. It doesn't fully register with you until you've spent a significant amount of time with Chamade how much the amberics have been working behind the scenes. The modern-day perfume enthusiast used to the ambers of this part of the 21st century could be forgiven for not recognizing this because - unlike most 21st century ambers - Chamade is bright and energetic. It radiates with passion and joie de vivre. The complete opposite of a cloying, bulbous, sweet, lumpy, vanillic mess. That energy is what makes it so special. That tenacity without being strident and lumpen is a beauty all to its own. This is one of the greatest perfumes of all time, and that's really all that needs to be said.

"Un cœur d’artichaut” - thump, thump, heart accelerating, love lies bleeding, exhilarating is the smell of Chamade, achingly good as it lands on skin, bent-stem-sap-flowing-out greenness, poet's narcissus that flirt, pink and white hyacinths that seem delicate and then haunt closed quarters with their plangent vernal scent. Ripe lilac petals bruised and dripping, the sound of English horns as seeming teardrops fall from blooms in their twilight stage before they recede until another year. Roses tremble at the wake of these mid-spring flowers saying tearful goodbyes and promising to return after another of Earth's orbits around the sun. Will there be another year for me? Cranesbill geranium leaves and lily of the valley are heated by the midday sun in May, that's what I now smell, with rose bushes in the periphery, their saturated colors stand out like a constellation against the courtyard. The garden is painted impasto, jutting out in relief, almost swelling, as tears harden into resins, sweet, tacky, coalescing with the green foliage and fully-fledged flowers, lathered and spiced edges, silky yet wooden. Eyes are dried and when opened once more, the mid-spring flowers are gone, leaving vegetation to grow unruly as summer envelops the surroundings, getting all "handy" in the tolu and benzoin like bears pawing at a beehive. From a glorious pell-mell in the garden what I now find is a powder-soft belly to find comfort. The extrait of Chamade shapeshifts in a way very few perfumes do in the modern age, and I marvel at it. I cherish it.

This in the modern version is one that Guerlain really needs to work on, just as it did with Mitsouko. I have two extraits, a modern that I received as a gift, and now a vintage extrait that I searched out because I was so frustrated with the longevity of the modern Chamade. They have not dealt with the loss of the concentration of the oak moss in the modern Chamade at all. For an extrait to last an hour or two on the skin is ridiculous, especially considering the prices that Guerlain charges for it. Oak moss is a strong fixative and preservative in perfume. The perfume industry has yet to begin trying to deal with the horrible blow dealt to it by the IFRA restrictions on oak moss. My advice is don't bother with modern Chamade until they can improve the longevity and sillage issue. It's not Guerlain's fault. The original Chamade is earthy and strong and longlasting and gorgeous. Now with all the restrictions, they need to get to work in having a true synthetic oak moss replacement for it created. Or is it easier to just make your customers have to reapply every two hours, thus increasing usage and using the perfume up faster?

Guerlain Chamade Extrait (1969) - hyacinth chypre - #jeanpaulguerlain ‘s fragrance was inspired from love and the beating heart. Cut-grass-like Galbanum, Sharp Green-smelling Hyacinth and Aldehydes are mixed with Guerlain’s Guerlinade of Florals and Spices. A similarity with No. 19, but that is cold and steely while Chamade remains warm and comforting. Masterpiece.

This is VERY green in the top and soapy with the hyacinth being the star player. Many of the base notes deepen the florals and give them chops to ride on. This is not a sweet fragrance but it is one of Guerlain's best.

I am pleased to see the various classic regular Guerlain lineup getting separate entries in the database in extrait form, because many I find quite different to the edp/edt versions. Chamade in extrait is, IMO, a very different beast to the edt. I enjoy the eau de toilette (current formulation), especially in spring and summer as it has a lovely freshness to it while still remaining multifaceted and interesting. I think Chamade had the longest opening to heart and early drydown of any of the Guerlain scents I have worn. It has a dewy freshness, and is kind of like an abstact watercolour in my mind's eye, smudges and shapes in a dusky/dirty pink colour and an evergreen forest green hue which leans more yellow than blue, on a textured white backkground. It has quite an airy quality. By contrast the extrait is bold, slightly brash upfront, loud and dense with colour and texture and flavour (by which I mean aroma, obviously!!)Gone are the watercolour tones, replaced instead with vibrant bruised pinks and dark verdant greens. This isn't by any stretch a watercolour, it is a vivid oil or acrylic piece, the olfactory equivalent of an impressionist recreation of a large hydrangea bush in full bloom of pink pompom flowers, with a small few turning to purplish blues, or a valerian bush covered in reddish pinkish flowers, or maybe both side by side together in a garden. The scent opens loud, very in your face, a cacophony of notes all clamouring for immediate attention and it can actually be a little overpowering initially. The aldehydes are not so obviously present for me in this form, that said though even in the edt they never venture into spangly white fizzy aldehydes of some perfmes. There is a dark rose present right at the opening, and a metallic chill that runs through from the start, which I think is the galabanum and hyacinth. The other florals are jostling for position and attention, and eventually after quite a tussle the hyacinth, lilac and rose take the lead, with the lotv slinking to the background. It does take a little time for the opening to arrange and compose itself, and depending on my mood, and presumably factors such as temperature and humidity, the first half hour can sometimes feel a bit like a nasal assault. Luckily it isn't an unpleasant smell, it can just be a bit much in some circumstances. Soon enough, once this starts to settle down it becomes much smoother, more controlled, more refined. The rose here is not of the dewy "wet" kind, nor is it a candy pink sugared type rose, instead it has a darker tone, probably due to the galbanum. Definitely there i a greenness, almost geranium like at times. It is not dry but not damp in nature, and there is an ever so slight tickle of pepper or something similar - the carnation maybe? It is a rose more akin to that in Hermes Rouge or maybe even Caron Or et Noir. The florals, once established, remain in place right through the end, as does the slight metallic edge, even as the resins and woods of the drydown step into scene some hours later. Chamade really is a perfume that unfolds slowly, like a storyteller gradually revealing their tale. Longevity is great even in edt form, in extrait it lasts days not hours. Projection is pretty huge initially, and settles to a respectable level, enough to get noticed, not enough to choke someone. I have this in a splash/dabber bottle but I tend to transfer it to a travel spray, because I find that a wide angle singe spritz front and back right before dressing gives me the right balance and intensity of scent if wearing this alone. I think it is still best suited to spring and summer wear but this can easily be an evening/night scent or for formal occasions. I also like to apply the edt quite freely, and then add a single dab of extrait from the stopper to my chest just above the cleavage line, to add depth and richness and longevity to the edt. This is definitely worth a try, it is a lovely scent. Not my favourite of the Guerlains but it is solidly made and performs well. Oh one last thing, my local Guerlain counter stocks this (or they did anyway) but never ever have it out with the testers or on display, but if you asked they'd get a tester bottle out from the back. Might be worth asking where you are if you don't see it.

My skin chemistry eats most perfumes alive (the ones it doesn't turn into jet propellant or bug repellent or baby powder), but I find this extrait is beautiful and full-bodied without being cloying. The scent is gorgeous from opening to drydown, though it evolves gradually. It likely has little in common with what may make a fragrance "popular" these days, as it is clean and clear but not at all aquatic, and progresses from an aldehydic green to deep floral without apparent "sweetness", but it is fresh, shiny, almost "metallic" as Mary-Jayne says. It speaks to me as the brightness of a drop of lemon juice reflecting light, or dew evaporating from hyacinth leaves as the flower petals open up to meet the sun. Wearing Chamade makes me feel like I just finished a glass of tart lemonade in an open meadow of hyacinths bathing in the bright sunrise melting the last snow of spring. It's likely my favorite of the many masterpieces that are Guerlain.

I picture Chamade as the blonde of the Guerlain girls. A young Marianne Faithfull. Chamade is quite simple. Guerlinade (floral, woody vanilla accord with a whole lot of melancholy iris) with a bitter green galbanum/hyacinth accord attatched to the front and a fluffy oriental balsamic accord attatched to the caboose. Altogether it has that layered, elegantly thrown together complexity of all Guerlains (nothing too loud, nothing smells cheap, and it doesn’t feel fussy and labored over.) The vanillic drydown is the most timeless, beautiful part where the opening will require a taste for vintage green florals. I’ve only ever tried the vintage extrait so formulas will vary. 5 out of 5.

I bought a vintage miniature bottle (adorably small, with the beautiful design as pictured) during the winter and waited for spring to come. I got to know this scent through an expensive yet wonderful Guerlain discovery set ordered from TPC. It wasn't an instant love for me but I grew to appreciate it and with time I wished to possess a bottle. Such a unique scent. A cool hyacinth on me but despite its laidback, elegant character it is not standoffish. Someone wrote about the EDT that it's the scent of fairy queen Titania and I wholeheartedly agree. It suits an upper class french lady as well and elevates your look and spirits. It has something regal about it.