Some fragrances have a knack for separating the dabbler from the enthusiast. Hermès Calèche is one. If you sprayed a scent strip with Calèche and waved it in front of people at the bus stop, you’d probably get a lot of wrinkled noses, along with comments like “old lady” and “perfume-y,” even among people who like perfume and happily stock their bathroom shelves with Jo Malone and the latest Dior flanker. Calèche is hard to love.
Unless you’re dedicated to perfume, that is. Then, Calèche is Grace Kelly with a French count for a father, a mother whose linen never seems to wrinkle, and an aunt who’s a nun with a penchant for romance novels. The fragrance aficionado might never want to wear Calèche, but it’s irresistible to explore.
Launched in 1961, Calèche was Hermès’s first feminine fragrance. Guy Robert created it just a year after he developed Madame Rochas, another aldehydic floral chypre. (Robert seemingly couldn’t get enough of this type of perfume and returned to the genre to compose the symphonic Amouage Gold in 1983.) Calèche’s notes include aldehydes, bergamot, lemon, neroli, mandarin, orange blossom, gardenia, ylang ylang, jasmine, rose, iris, lily of the valley, sandalwood, oakmoss, cedarwood, vetiver, amber, musk, cypress, frankincense and coumarin.
This review is based on two bottles of Calèche Eau de Toilette, dated 1980 and 1982, and Calèche Soie de Parfum — an Eau de Parfum formulation of Calèche — from 2000.
Calèche goes on with a blast of nose-tingling aldehydes and unsugared lemon, with background singers bellowing in other citrus notes. Seriously, Calèche is so lemony that if he smelled it, a trumpet player would have to open a window before continuing the concert. Guerlain Shalimar's lemon has nothing on it. Etro Shaal Nur approaches it. Plus, the aldehydes are powerful enough to feel like drinking champagne straight from a bottle that has just been shaken up.
Once the bubbles subside, mossy, incense-y wood rises to meet the citrus with just the barest whiff of a floral bridge. The Eau de Toilette feels greener with vetiver and manor-worthy lawn than the Soie de Parfum does. On reading Calèche’s notes, I’d hoped for a lush iris-spiked heart, but Calèche is bone dry, especially in Eau de Toilette. The result is fresh, aristocratic and unisex. The Duke and Duchess of Windsor might have shared a bottle between them.
And then — poof! — Calèche vanishes within a few hours of application. If I press my nose to my arm, I smell dry, dry cedar and the fusty remains of a gentle chypre. The Soie de Parfum lasts longer and has more assertive sillage, but just barely.
It took me a few years of wearing Calèche off and on before it started showing its character. On my very first wearing, Calèche smelled to me like a tart Chanel No. 5. Now, I recognize the two fragrances as distinctly different. No. 5 is sweeter, muskier, and more full of the garden. Madame Rochas smells more of spun sugar, blueberries and sandalwood (something I never would have written without testing it next to Calèche). Amouage Gold turns the aldehydic floral chypre volume up to eleven (thank you, This is Spinal Tap) with a full symphony, heavy on the strings, of warm florals.
After wearing the Eau de Toilette and Soie de Parfum again this week, I’m sorry I haven’t given Calèche the attention as it deserves. Maybe people down at the bus stop won’t get it when they pass through my Calèche-powered sillage, but I don’t care. Okay, I don’t have an ancestral family home in the French countryside, and I haven’t been on a horse since I was 8. But sometimes I like pretending.
Hermès Calèche Eau de Toilette is $157 for 100 ml; $404 for a refillable leather case with a 75 ml refill; and $125 for the refill without the case. Soie de Parfum is $140 for 50 ml and $185 for 100 ml. Perfumed soap ($23) and body lotion (200 ml for $79) are also available.
I had to laugh just a little. Because even for people who like and wear vintage fragrance (like me!), I think Caleche might be hard to love. The reason why *I* don’t like it is, as you’ve mentioned, because it is so dryyyyyy. Super dry, and that is just not my jam. (Nor was Madame Rochas, for that matter. I’m trying to rehome my parfum spray of Madame R at the moment.)
It is fascinating, though, to smell popular vintage scents and experience what a well-built fragrance that retained its popularity for several decades is like. Sometimes the structure seems clearer to me in vintage frags.
A lot of modern scents don’t seem to HAVE any structure, really, beyond a cursory nod at the pyramid: they’re just sort of….there. Even reformulations are pallid imitations: compare vintage Obsession — vulgar as hell but built like a Maserati — to the modern version, flattened, washed out, and neutered.
I need to find some vintage Caleche. I have vintage Amazone in parfum and eau de toilette and it is dazzling.
That’s the best description of old Obsession I’ve run across! I know exactly what you mean. Whether it’s a cheapening or a dumbing down or whatever, it’s noticeable.
Oh man, I absolutely despised Obsession – but I see exactly what you mean. And agree.
Vintage Amazone is lovely.
I had a vintage bottle once and swapped it away, sadly.
I haven’t ever seen Amazone in all my antiquing days. I’ll keep my eyes open!
I need to find some and smell it again! All this talk is giving me the lemming.
I adore vintage Amazon, have it in EDP and perfume, the oakmoss, vetiver and cassis are simply gorgeous.
That sounds so nice!
I also love how Caleche is simply Caleche, with no pandering to trends and focus groups. It has character!
I think the dryness is exactly why I love it!
You have to, with Caleche!
Oh I’m so glad you reviewed this! Caleche is definitely one of a dying breed. As the owner of both vintage EdT and parfum, I think this stuff is magic. The EdT is very bracing up top, then fades to a mossy hum, halfway between leather and soap.
The parfum’s lemon is almost glace in its richness, something that surprised me. Then, a chime of jasmine breezes in, a bit tinged with tobacco. It never smells as soapy in the base as the EdT, but stays plush and quiet.
I agree that Caleche always smells well-born, but strikes me more as the sporty sister. I wrote previously:
“If Miss Dior is your prim older aunt, Caleche is your independent younger aunt. She rides horses, takes swims in the early morning, and paints with watercolors. She might smoke occasionally, and pours whisky with a strong hand.”
She lives a life of leisure for sure but she mixes it up whenever she can.
Clearly I love it.
I love this description! I’ve never tried the parfum, and I didn’t see it on the Hermes site–it might be out of production now. But I wouldn’t call Miss Dior the prim aunt! The cranky aunt with the younger lover and wicked sense of style, maybe. (Or maybe I’m biased.)
I’m with you on your description of Miss Dior
It doesn’t feel prim to me at all!
It definitely has a bit of an animalic growl happening.
I love this.I now want to seek out that tobacco note in my vintage next time I wear it!
I was curious about the tobacco note, too!
I’ve also got the vintage EdT (and parfum,) and your description is spot-on for me. I’ve never noticed lemon – perhaps it’s vanished from my bottle. But the aldehydes – yes, and then soapy florals and leather. It makes me think of saddle soap, with the caveat that I haven’t the slightest idea what saddle soap smells like
The extrait is another world unto itself. A gilded carriage strewn with jewels… it smells of luxury and old world riches.
“Gilded carriage strewn with jewels”–sounds fabulous!
Nice review Angela!I have forgotten I have a bottle of this,also vintage!Hermès is one of those houses I WANT to love,but just never seem to wear their perfumes in my collection(Hiris;I’m sorry!!)
I shall try to remedy this ASAP.I remember when I bought it,I was actually looking for a bottle of Kelly Caleche,and it jumped out into my arms,at a really good price,from my favorite vintage perfume store.I’ll give it some love during this week and report back.
Please do! It took me a few wearings to feel like Caleche and I understood each other. Now, we’re friends.
10 minutes in after a lavish spray of Caleche on my wrist.I forgot about those Aldehydes!!It really surprised me,the initial blast that basically made my eyes tear up!It really is a sophisticated dame,this perfume.Lemon,woody chypre so far.Really hoping to catch the Iris,and the tobacco note.
Thanks for reporting back so soon!
It was a great revisit with Caleche,thanks for the inspiration!Not a bedtime scent though.Lol.It needs a night out on the town.Loved the iris note,sadly no tobacco on me.
I wore this back in the 80’s and loved it. I had it at various times in edt, soie de parfum and parfum and loved them all. Haven’t smelled it in years, but the original review in French by Luca Turin said it had become very thin (« passez-le loi sous la porte »).
Passez-le moi sous la porte is how that was supposed to read.
I thought something looked off, but I wasn’t sure–thanks!
I saw that review and almost added it here, except that I haven’t smelled today’s Caleche, so I thought it would be better to ignore it. (I might have a way to get you some early 1980s EdT this summer, though.)
That sounds appealing. Are you coming to Montreal?
Or sending it with D?
It would be a mule job for D, if she were willing. Anyway, think about it!
I wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t make the parfum anymore. I can pass some along though if you’d like!
I adore Miss Dior as well but she seems like she rides in the carriage, not on the horse.
That should have been above.
I had no trouble following it at all.
Well, I’ll concede the bit about the carriage. You’re so kind to offer up some parfum! I wouldn’t feel good about taking a drop of it, though.
My bottle of vintage Miss Dior smells like she rides the horse bareback, unclothed
Great review, Angela!
I am partial to both Caleche and Amazon but always wish they were a bit stronger. It wouldn’t have occurred to me to group them with Gold, which to me is overtly floral rather than abstract, and so much stronger, but I can see your point.
Caleche really does fade way too fast. Part of me is okay with that–it lets me segue to a different fragrance. But still, way too fast.
I agree, Amouage Gold is much stronger and more floral and lasts AGES.
I can hardly smell Amazone at all! :.(
Great review Angela! I adore the older Hermes frags (I have Amazone, Caleche, Équipage and Bel Ami), they wear quite well on my skin.
The newer ones, not so much.
I adore Equipage and Bel Ami, too!
Angela, thank you for the review. Your words prompted me to open an untested decant of vintage EdT. I love it.
I hope nobody minds me saying I imagine Jour d’Hermes’ citrus-FLOWERS-woods as the grandchild of Caleche’s CITRUS-flowers-WOODS. Someday I shall try wearing them in a morning-then-afternoon rotation.
Oh, I didn’t even think of that!
Hi, I love the way Caleche smells, had a bottle and finished it a went searching to replace it and ended loving Caleche Fleurs De Mediterranee, it’s like more floral, a Rose. I really love it!
I’ve never tried that one! It must be kind of an old flanker? I can see how a stronger floral heart would fill it out.
Read your review and wore Caleche tonight. Such a beautiful scent. Very dry indeed, but so is a good martini…
You are speaking my language!