Chamade by Guerlain

Chamade was one of the few Guerlain classics I still had to try in good conditions. Apart from the four pillars, the brand doesn’t look after its emblems much; it’s not rare to approach a stand and find no testers. The other day I managed to try it. I remember tasting it years ago with some minis and those samples they gave away in a cardboard box when the packaging was golden, but I had completely forgotten its aroma. I like Guerlain and would be a fool if I didn’t know how to value their great creations. I like it, but apart from one or two, most aren’t for me. They all have in the dry-down that accord called ‘guerlinade’, that boudoir tone of vanillas and powdery resins that unifies most of their perfumes. I’m into more dynamic, cold, and rational perfumes, and Guerlain is the opposite. Chamade is a very curious perfume; it ventures into aldehydes, something rare in Guerlain, and also into sixties woodsy florals, which is uncharacteristic for the brand. The trick is that in the end the vanillated resins appear, and remind you that this has a name and surname, and that no matter how much the first two phases are a bit more in the style of their years, the dry-down is signed Guerlain. I don’t want to go on too long because although it seems like a pretty perfume, I found it a bit anodyne. It sounds contradictory because I’m reiterating how well-worked the evolution is, practically three perfumes in one, overlapping like the curtain of a theatre separating one act from another. But it hasn’t fully enchanted me. I think it falls short in all its phases, although perhaps some people find their charm in this, because Chamade is a very wearable perfume, and also, why not say it, ultra-refined. The first phase is aldehydic and fresh, it irremediably reminds you of Chanel No. 5, which is certainly true even if it’s a cliché. When galbanum is added to the aldehydes, it floods the rest of the flowers with a very nice green tone; moreover, it’s not a raw, bitter, oily, and strong galbanum as was the style at the time; this one is buttery, more than galbanum alone, there is its country mist accompanying a very delicate rose/hyacinth combo. Neither the rose is fierce nor rough nor is the hyacinth super floral and detergent-like; both are butter, green butter. In the background, there are still some very nice aldehydes that instead of smelling of lacquer smell of cold light. In the third phase is when the Peru balsams enter, with their medicinal resin thing, a medicinal plaster, sweet and expectorant; they are the ones that confirm this is a Guerlain, and that without vanilla or iris they weren’t willing to lose their French dressing-room dry-down. The Peru balsam (by the way, I’m hearing that both Peru and Tolu are variations of the same formula, our Latin American colleagues can confirm it as it’s still used in households) is nailed to avoid overwhelming or being the protagonist, simply conferring a sensual, balsamic, and warm finish to the aldehydic floral wrapping. A pretty, well-made perfume, with a hint of cold, pastel green light, facing a warmer, erotic dry-down. The old bottle is a treasure. It hasn’t fully enchanted me because I see it as a bit indefinite and washed-out, plus feminine and maternal. To my taste, it lacks either dynamism at the start or sex at the end. Obviously I’m not their potential client, there will be people who find their perfect perfume in its restrained tone. What I liked most was seeing how years ago houses ventured into the trends of the moment, more youthful, without losing their essence. And that is exactly what Guerlain did with Chamade, an aldehydic floral in appearance much more like Hermès, Rochas, or Nina Ricci, but coming out victorious like a Guerlain with an undeniably oriental dry-down. P.S. Edited to add that some people compare it to Parfum d’Hermès. To me, they don’t resemble each other; both are aldehydic florals that then turn into sweet resin, here Peru balsam, in Hermès myrrh. Hermès has much less galbanum than this, plus ylang and iris, which are key to positioning it as a more mature perfume. This Chamade, although it is a mature perfume, has something delicate and misty that doesn’t exist in Parfum d’Hermès (it’s a flatter perfume, without any poetry).

Since I was a child, I’ve always been one of those who prefer Guerlain classics, especially due to that Guerlinade accord that makes them unique and easy to identify. Chamade is one of them: a timeless classic that wears very well and evolves brilliantly. At first, the aldehydes hit you (it’s basically an aldehydic fragrance), but then it turns into something floral with a hyacinth that gives it personality. It’s a warm hyacinth with soft oriental touches of benzoin and a base vanilla that’s almost dry, a bit toasted. It smells classy, leaves good memories, and is very feminine. It goes with any age and occasion (except sporty style, which doesn’t suit me). A Guerlain classic that must be taken into account for girls or women who want to leave a personal and elegant mark.

I’m a man but as a perfumery fan, whenever I can, I try feminine fragrances to explore new nuances. I would define Chamade in three words: aldehydic, floral, and balsamic. At first, the aldehydes gave me a strong push until I felt nauseous, reminding me of Chanel No. 5. As time passed, the flowers emerged, especially hyacinth and jasmine. In the end, I noticed a lot of amber and vanilla, giving it a balsamic touch. It’s a complex and classic fragrance, ideal for a woman over sixty, although it depends more on identification than age; my aunt has been wearing it since her forties and it suits her perfectly. It has great longevity, so it’s better for cold days.

The first flis is sweet, hyacinth, lilac, and soft rose. Everything mixed together with great softness, no big surprises, wrapped in something balsamic and fresh. A few minutes later, the jasmine takes the lead and the scent becomes sweeter. Then, galbanum and balsamic touches dominate almost the entire journey, while amber and vanilla are barely noticeable, only at the end. It’s basically a floral perfume with slight oriental tints, very elegant and with a nostalgic air.