If there was one fragrance that could stun with its uncompromising imperturbility,it's a dark leather chypre named after the French word that roughly translated to 'obstinate pig-headedness'.
The year was 1959. It was less than two years since the horrifying crimes of a nondescript Wisconsin farmer named Ed Gein was laid bare before the world,and the innocent era of Doris Day and post-WWII tranquility was at and end.Perhaps the fashion house of Grès was trying to craft a worthy competitor to the shocking but successful smoky-and-leathery Bandit, but the dark and animalic nature of their choice of the inaugural perfume suited the changing times to a T(or perhaps to a G:).
Cabochard was a big hit.
But the fashion house ended up much like the last Gein victim, though decades later: carved up and disemboweled and eventually meeting an untimely end.
Alix Grès, the embodiment of the creativity of the house, would pass away in 1993, a year before the world would discover about her passing, apparently penniless in a nursing home and very nearly forgotten.
Her most successful fragrance would outlive the house, a testament to its appeal, though only a pale reflection of its former greatness.
Galbanum and bergamot comprise the opening act, with the leather note of isobutyl quinoline rejoinding strongly within the first hour.Vetiver and oakmoss play strong supporting roles, offering the image of a chain-smoking recalcitrant,rebellious woman. The animalic castoreum that emerges suggests that this person would not be averse to passionate lovemaking at the merest facial gesture.
Oh,and by the way, she would be on top.
I don't get much floral revelation from the wood-coloured vintage juice, despite the rumour that thousands of jasmine flowers and hundreds of roses go into a single ounce of it. Instead, it turns rather smoky in the middle,emanating a smell that I imagine a Cuban cigar would share.
A fascinating concoction that, after three weeks of testing and retesting, I am not truly able to decipher, if that's even possible at all.
But the existence of such an olfactory wonder tells me that a house need not have the long history and clout of Guerlain to come up with a fragrance that takes your breath away.
My rather large and rare 3.4 oz of extrait de parfum was bought sealed from a seller Down Under for under $50, a nearly unbelievable stroke of good fortune considering that since I had been eyeing this perfume in August, 2 ounce sealed bottles(with boxes) have gone under the hammer for up to $395.
I was instantly smitten with the flacon,with both the grey velvet bow and the frosted concave disk stopper juxtaposed in a most elegant design.
The dirty unwashed quality of the heart and drydown of Cabochard is very intriguing and magnetic indeed.
It's almost like Mitsouko redone, without the peachy undecalatone and piquant spices, infused with oodles of smoke and leather, with a dash of civet and castoreum thrown into the mix: wilder,more unrefined beauty, but no less elegant, suited to the newer age where it was fashionable for ladies to puff away in public.
Of course, Mitzi and Cabochard are almost totally different perfumes altogether, with the former being subtly sensual, while the latter being almost overtly carnal; perhaps I'm trying to link the two to elevate this Bernard Chant creation to the same status as that of Jacques Guerlain.
Fortunately for me, Cabochard seems to keep better than Mitsouko, despite the older dame's more distinguished pedigree!
Other verdicts of this legend range from 'sex in a bottle' to melancholic; if you're a strongly opinionated chypre fan like I am, then Cabochard may just be the fragrance for you!
1 ml vials of vintage Cabochard extract are available at $13.99 per vial + shipping.E-mail zirdex@yahoo.com.sg to receive a Paypal invoice.
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