The Seven Lives of Cabochard

by: Miguel Matos

This article is a love declaration for a scent that I feel like my second skin. Come with me while I dwell on this perfume created for a stubborn mind—something that I've been called very frequently since I was born. Despite having countless perfumes in my collection, there is one that will always be very special to my heart. It's the perfume that got me into the smelling frenzy that is my life now and I'm so glad we met. Even though I cannot be faithful to it, being this fumewhore that I am, I always come back to it regularly. This perfume is Cabochard.

Some years ago, bored to death with mainstream perfumery and physically very far from niche perfumeries, I started to despair as a perfume lover. Was there anything that could satisfy my fragrance cravings? Trips to Sephora or Douglas were a fountain of yawning and I needed to find my signature scent. Hopelessly, I turned to reading and learning. I started with Chandler Burr and Luca Turin, reading the books The Emperor of Scent and The Secret of Scent, respectively. After that I read Burr's The Perfect Scent, a book that followed both Jean-Claude Ellena and Sarah Jessica Parker's quests for new and meaningful fragrances. While going through the chapters, I began to identify my cravings with the ones of Sarah Jessica. She loves animalic accords and dirty smells. She even mixed different scents in order to find what she wanted. And then, there was a page where Chandler says something like: “Show herCabochard. That's dirty.” I was intrigued ... Indeed, what I liked in perfume and what I was lacking in modern mainstream perfumery was that word: “dirty.” Adding to this, there was a passage in Burr's book The Emperor of Scent where Turin says: “Cabochard—not the piss sold under the name today, the real stuff that you can't get anymore—you have to be into soiled underwear for that. It is a fucking wonderful fragrance.” Now I was fully convinced. If for Chandler and Luca the epitome of dirty was Cabochard, I had to try that one.

In my country, Cabochard was nowhere to be found at that time. The brand had been almost forgotten in Portugal, and only Cabotine was widely available in the last shelves of perfume shops. But one day I found an old bottle of Cabochard in a flea market. It was the octagonal version, in a beautiful bottle with the frosted bow. It had only a few drops left, but as soon as my nose touched the cap I knew that this was love at first sniff. I was hooked with it instantly and forever. When I got home I bought a bottle on ebay. This bottle was the latest reformulation and when I finally got it, I thought it was a bit different, but the love for it persisted. I rarely finish a perfume bottle, but with Cabochard I wore three bottles in the last two years, and counting. A whiff of Cabochard is something that makes me feel unique and reassured and I actually never smelled it on anyone else. So I confess, now: I'm a Cabochard hoarder.

After Cabochard I discovered that vintage perfumery was my olfactive DNA and animalics were my thing: castoreum, civet, musks, ambergris ... I started collecting vintages and it is an addiction I can't get rid of—and I don't want to. Even now with easy access to niche perfumes, it's vintage that gets me the biggest rush. Give me leather, animalics, aldehydes, oakmoss, all in true form, everything forbidden! But before I tell you all about the differences in Cabochard from vintage to now, let me tell you some stories about its creation in 1959.

Madame Grès was a very talented fashion designer with a special ability to work drapings and structures in a Greek goddess style. Even today her work is avant garde and seems relevant. Born Germaine Emilie Krebs, she was trained in sculpture and began her fashion business by the name Alix Barton. According to Elena Vosnaki's blog Perfume Shrine, “she later took her husband’s—Serge Czerefkov, a Russian painter—first name and with a partial anagram settled on Grès, opening la maisonGrès in 1942, amidst the German occupation of Paris.” The fashion business was flourishing and Alix Grès wanted to expand, so after some research, she decided to embark on the creation of a fragrance that could represent her brand and her work.

When she started working on her fragrance, it wasn't Cabochard that she had in mind. Actually the first composition created for Grès was made by Guy Robert and it was a floral scent inspired by her trip to India in 1956. Chouda was its name, but it would never reach the public. It was a scent built around water hyacinth with prominent florals, something that the wider audience was not very much into at that time. The classic chypres were all the rage, so Alix Grès decided to keep Chouda for herself. Only five liters were produced and Chouda was never wore by any other woman. I would die to smell Chouda and if the house of Grès still have the formula, it would be a great idea to finally present it to the market (wink). The perfume that did hit the shelves in 1959 was a composition signed by the genius Bernand Chant of IFF. The same that later delivered works of art like Aramis and Aromatics Elixir. Grès' first perfume would be called Cabochard and it would follow the footsteps of the success that Bandit was having at that time within the Robert Piguet house. “Technically,Cabochard is a rounder interpretation of Bandit. Bandit was a beautiful but brutal perfume which was far too leathery. It was so heavy and animalic a chypre that it shocked people. Bernard found a way to make the accord more flowery and mute the leathery aspect,” explains Michael Edwards in his book Perfume Legends. A green leather chypre, in this case much softer and well-mannered. The name Cabochard comes from the French word caboche, meaning obstinate, headstrong or stubborn. One famous ad showed the slogan “Elle n'en fait qu'à sa tête,” meaning “she only does what she wants.”

As I am writing this, I find myself always thinking of the poor stillborn Chouda, Alix Grès’ personal favorite fragrance ... I'd kill to smell it or at least see the formula. Back to Cabochard, the secret for its vintage dry and leathery quality is the aromachemical isobutyl quinoline, something in common with Bandit from 1944. To my nose, this is the key of the composition, along with oakmoss, castoreum, artemisia and subtle floral notes mixed with a smoky tobacco accord. The way Barbara Herrmann, fromYesterday’s Perfume puts it, “this perfume, unlike Bandit and Jolie Madame, seems to tell a woman's story 'in her own words', with notes that refer to the kitchen, the countryside, and to classic perfumery.”

Cabochard

Top notes: aldehydes, spices, fruity notes, asafoetida, tarragon, lemon, sage
Middle notes: orris root, jasmine, ylang, rose, geranium
Base notes: leather, sandalwood, amber, patchouli, musk, coconut, oakmoss, vetiver, tobacco

In this official list there are two very important ingredients that are not present: galbanum and castoreum. They are pretty much evident in vintage versions, so maybe that's the reason they are absent in the brand's information.

Today there are some angry costumers that want the original Cabochard back. In Luca Turin's book, Perfumes, The A-Z Guide, there's a review that, like all of Luca's opinions, has to be taken with a grain of salt: “Cabochard was once the greatest leather chypre of all, with the Chant trademark of a stark structure filled in with a complex woodwind harmony of smoky balsamic notes.” He goes on with his point of view on the reformulations Cabochard has suffered with time: “This is Cabochard chewed down to a frazzle by accountant moths.” I have to say I disagree with this review, in what seems to me as an extreme statement. Yes, great old Cabochard may never come back and each reincarnation steps further from the original, due to cost and the IFRA restrictions on oakmoss. But it still is a wonderful perfume.

There are a lot of different versions of Cabochard peeking through the net and sometimes it's possible to buy a glorious vintage without ruining your life. I have six different bottles (and some backups) in my collection and they are all different. There's still, in my opinion, a pulsating heart that is true to the original, even after various facelifts. Cabochard from today is different from the one from the past, but I think it is still recognizable. Here are some thoughts I want to share with you on my bottles from vintage to modern.

The Glass Ribbon Bottle (EDT, late 1960s?)

This bottle I found in a flea market and payed 20 euros for it. It's one of the most beautiful bottles I have ever seen, with a sculpted glass bow. It's a 100ml bottle in eau de toilette version and it was 1/3 full when I bought it. I've been saving it but maybe I should just wear it, for the deterioration may be near (I suspect it is already in process). As soon as the liquid touches the skin, there's a boozy effect that comes from what I think is artemisia, mixed with a hint of sourness from the asafoetida (the same thing you can feel in the opening of Carven's Ma Griffe). My first thought when I smelled it for the first time was “liqueur.” It's alcoholic, green, boozy, bitter and fresh. It's lovely but it settles in a second into a super soft animalic green-mossy scent. I can't feel much leather or florals, I smell mostly a very gentle castoreum. Maybe this bottle is too old and most essences have just gone or it's maybe oxidation, because this is just too faint and seems to disappear in half an hour. After reapplying, it seems that it's only base notes what I smell, lacking the crisp aspect I love in Cabochard. I do recognize the final stages of the drydown as something you can still get in modern Cabochard. The rest is just too faint for a proper analysis.

The Square Bottle (EDT, 1975)

This is another style of bottle, completely different from the traditional one with the bow and maybe it's more suitable for this fragrance, with simple, clean lines and a very masculine aspect. It also ressembles a bottle of whisky and I always feel that Cabochard is a boozy scent, so ... This one is a miniature I also got in a flea market in Lisbon (I got three for 2 euros each). Now this one is much more alive! Sparkling citrus and aldehydes greet me in a very barbershop-y vibe that is uplifting and masculine. Very fresh and fizzy, with a floral-aromatic aspect (do I feel lavender?). It's butch and masculine for a woman to wear—I actually never smelled Cabochard on a woman and to me it's strange to think of that because I see this as a very masculine scent. Strangely, the top notes were so lively but they settled rapidly into the same super soft green notes/castoreum combo. There is a faint galbanum here and a whisper of oakmoss, but again it's a very subtle skin scent. Alhough I can smell a very deep and mossy composition, it's too ethereal. Was Cabochard always like this in the old days?

The Grey Velvet Bow Bottle (Parfum, 1970s?)

This one I have been wearing for some time. It was a battle to get this pure parfum version. It was a present my friend got from her former mother in law. My friend always hated Cabochard (she says it's an old lady perfume) and she never wore it. Anyway she kept the present intact even after the divorce since she and her mother in law became good friends. One day she showed me the bottle and I had a fit. It took six months of blackmail to arrange a deal where she felt obliged to give me the bottle. Don't judge me! I'm sure you would do the same. Some months later I got a deal on another one for just 10 euros in a Portuguese website. Oh, what a glorious liquid! Everything natural (and synthetic, let's not forget the isobutyl quilonine) and good and profound and bitter green is here! Galbanum, citrus, aldehydes, castoreum, leather, tobacco, tons of oakmoss, spices ... you smell this rich blend and you can die and go to heaven. It's damn complex and addictive, very animalic and layered into a furry intricate composition. I always thought that the florals in Cabochard were very abstract, and here they are kept that way, but more prominent. “I get flashes of ideas of flowers,” said Portia, perfectly, on australianperfumejunkies.com. There's a soapy side to it too. It's a boozy, wet forest smell with furry creatures lurking under the trees. The use of castoreum is evident and I imagine that a drop of civet was also added to give it the animal purr. There's nothing sharp in this version, only a greenery that is never over the top, because it is so enveloped in the other masterfully blended materials. After a while, there's a little sweetness too and finally this is to me a much more feminine and warm version. Not too strong either, even though it's a Parfum. I could have handled more of that but that is what makes its elegance. Cabochard is quite a dark fragrance in all versions and this one is no exception, but in a different, more velvety way. To me it's the reference point of Cabochard and if you have to lose an arm or a leg to get it, do it now.

The Octagonal Frosted Bow Glass Bottle (EDT, 1984)

Now this is where the modern lives of Cabochard begin. After several purchases and re-purchases of the Grès brand, in 1984 this perfume was severely reformulated and a new bottle was designed to contain the new composition. This was when the attacks of fans started. The Cabochard of the second half of the eighties turned into an even more masculine side. The ingredients used in this one are clearly cheaper and there's a huge reduction of the deep earthy oakmoss that made the reputation of the original Cabochard. I'm guessing that when the brand decided to take some of the oakmoss out of the composition, maintaining everything else untouched, it may have resulted in an unbalanced formula. The freshness of the remaining oakmoss was clearly not enough to assure the transparency of Cabochard and what was left resulted in a heavier leather/tobacco scent. Which is fine for me! Yes, it is harsher and rough, but hey, does that have to mean it's bad? Not in my book. So, do your mourning on the first lives of Cabochard for it will never come back. But please open your heart to the reincarnations. This version was the first I have ever smelled and it was my portal into vintage, so how bad can it be? The bottle is stunning and technically well made. It's a pleasure to hold and it takes me back to an austere sense of luxury and glam from the 1940s. Regarding the scent, well, it's a hard leather perfume with a strong aldehyde opening, still offering a hint of galbanum, recognizable in a skeletal way. In fact, this is like anorectic smoke-addicted Cabochard. It is thinner but far more diffusive. I imagine a very skinny blonde actress in an YSL tuxedo, smoking cigarette after cigarette in the garden of a luxurious hotel under the moonlight. I know many of you hate this version, but I think that the unbalanced composition is charming and the spices are more prominent. I can still smell the castoreum giving it a dirty and sexy undertone and there is a sultry leitmotiv after the first ten minutes that is very intriguing. Again, even in this rougher version, Cabochard is never a powerhouse fragrance and it is still a subtle scent which I always have to reapply after a couple of hours to get that rush. Or just wait until the final drydown for there comes the oakmoss in its earthy glory! Spray it again with an open mind. You won't regret it.

The 50th Anniversary Edition (EDT, 2010)

What a shame this bottle is ... Cheap plastic cap, cheap looking glass, ugly visible tube inside, bad sprayer ... Yes this is a bargain fragrance, but the previous bottle was so beautiful, why not keep that? And that terrible sticker at the back with the image of a woman in a gown with a bow? Tacky and not flattering for the bottle and the heritage of Cabochard. Following another reformulation, this one is close to the previous octagonal bottle, but with yet another reduction on oakmoss. There's a warm character to it and a pleasant muskiness, but it lacks the sharp aspect and all the greens are muted. No florals appear to come. This is a nice tobacco scent and with a bit of imagination we can still recognize something from the original version, but we've come a long way ... Longevity could be better too, but that was always a problem with Cabochard.

The Flat Bottle with Frosted Glass Bow (EDT, current version)

Welcome to the modern life of Cabochard in eau de toilette for the new millennium. At the entrance, be aware of the aldehydes that will knock your socks off. Again, another reformulation that removed almost all the oakmoss and the perfumers in charge were left with the challenge of making it look like Cabochard. It's another perfume, really. More like a flanker, actually. What I find strange in this is that for the first time I can smell the ylang-ylang, right after the aldehyde explosion. There's a clash of green and floral that goes into something that I still enjoy, but it's not Cabochard at all. Gone are the artemisia and asafoetida forever, this seems to be a floral aldehyde, as if good old tomboy Cabochard decided to wear a skirt. The drydown is still a bit musky and dirty but in a different way. Now this time I'm a bit sad and begin to think that we gained a new and nice vintage-y contemporary perfume but lost Cabochard forever. No castoreum, just a barely detectable oakmoss and a floral bouquet that is pleasant and plays nicely with leather and aldehydes. If you are not into green, try this one. It's still an unusual perfume, for a mainstream brand, so don't overlook it if you search for something different from what everyone is wearing right now.

The Flat Bottle with Frosted Glass Bow (EDP, current version)

Interesting version ... It makes me wonder. First of all, how many times can you change Cabochard? But this time it is puzzling. Bitter green, fresh floral, slightly aromatic, a bit of tartness, highly aldehydic ... The opening of this eau de parfum makes me think of rustic herbs and flowers rubbed against a leather jacket left in the rain. It's not Cabochard as we knew it, but it's bewitching. I could see a niche brand offering this kind of scent, actually. It no longer resembles madame Grès first fragrance, even though it moves in the same family. The florals here turn abstract again but even more prominent. We just can't smell the ylang anymore but maybe the jasmine was brought to front. Projection was improved, and once and again, poor longevity. This can be the most feminine version of all of them. Not to be overlooked in my opinion.

After smelling all these lives of Cabochard and comparing them I just don't know what else to say, but I am happy I have all of these, for each one offers one of the multiple dimensions contained in the original composition. It's like someone that you love who is very complicated and changes moods. You never know what you'll find next time you meet him or her. And isn't that exciting? I do still love Cabochard and I just hope I made you rethink your concepts about this fragrance. Give it some love, even if it is exfoliated, facelifted, tummy-tucked, bleached and liposuctioned. It's worth it.