Equipage by Hermès

A green masculinity of pine and palorosa with a spiced touch of cinnamon that gives it great character. It starts juicy and dries down to create an aura of classic, woody elegance, something refreshing like vanilla Coca-Cola. A fresh, timeless classic forest scent, well-enriched with floral sparkles, spices, woods, and fruits.

What can I say about Equipage? It’s a difficult scent to wear, not for children or people who hand out smiles left, right and centre. It projects seriousness and great respect. From the start it smells of high-quality woods and citrus. In the heart phase, it seems to have a touch of lavender, although it’s not listed in the notes. And the dry down… by God, it’s glorious. That good moss and vetiver give it great stature. It’s not versatile, you have to smell it before buying. I’ve received many compliments and everyone says it smells like something expensive.

I had to give it away because it made me nauseous, but this was back in the 2000-2001.

I don’t like Equipage at all, it’s very dusty and sharp as befits its notes and era. But one thing doesn’t take away from the other: how well it’s made. I have a little bottle of 15 or 20 ml, an old mini size pre-IFRA, and it’s mind-blowing to check the quality. We’re used to plastic textures and take it for granted that perfumes smell like that. When you have a bottle of Equipage or Miss Dior with natural ingredients, you’re amazed, especially with the oakmoss: herbal, leathery, mossy, with a super perceptible grain on the palate, velvety texture, wriggly, like a cheeky, boastful squirrel. I’m not going to debate synthetics versus naturals, because they should coexist, but I do want to highlight the experience of smelling real moss, not synthesised: it’s as if a beast had kicked the air and pieces fell into your mouth; it has dimension, transparency, suggestive consistency and photorealism that drives you mad. Equipage is very masculine, no permissions for unisex. The carnated moss mixed with aldehydes steer the ship, and although it’s not my taste, I can’t help but sniff my wrist to feel that swarm of aged breeze. It smells of natural animal, not due to faecal notes, but for that furry consistency, like a slightly dusty fur skin. It’s not a nightingale, it recalls hundreds of 70s fragrances, dry, spiced, with a taste of wardrobes full of clothes or wool carpets. But it’s worth it for the opportunity to smell natural notes like in my mini bottle; every now and then I put a drop on my hand like someone smoking a joint to sleep. It’s something irrelevant in the history of Hermès, which, by the way, has always cared for its fragrances with care, unlike others that sell to the fads without caring about eighty or eighty. Even with their current waters that last an hour and a half, Hermès is another story.

In life, it’s better not to look back, but in perfumery, yes, especially when you find a product of this level that I never tried back then as priorities were different (football, bicycles, and stickers in that exact order). The perfumer Guy Robert, famous for creating some of the best fragrances of his time, gifts us this aroma to enjoy and dream. Elegant, gentlemanly, strong in the opening, it lands with medium-level potency. This fragrance is truly inflexible. Dry with herbs, spices, and a slight touch of sweetness. I’d like a perfumer to dare to make something like this today; it’s undoubtedly a good fragrance that deserves to be noticed and known. Ideal these days when you dress warmer; if you have the chance to spritz this wonderful, solid relic from the seventies, you’ll discover the pleasure a scent created half a century ago can offer. Heart and dry down of great quality, to start the year with a smile.

The downside of smelling this fragrance is that you appreciate most compositions that are now restricted by the IFRA, especially real oakmoss. The good thing about finding a vintage Equipage is being able to appreciate the beauty all those notes added. Top-tier moss, vetiver, and patchouli; no alcohol sensation, synthetic feel, or weird notes; a smell of natural notes, excellently crafted. The cinnamon and nutmeg are felt, but the star for me is the oakmoss, with very subtle clove tints. It’s not very aggressive and could even be worn by a woman with a strong character. Excellent fragrance.

The bottle I’m reviewing has just over 30 ml left (late 80s); I don’t know the behaviour of the current version. Equipage is a fragrance James Bond could have worn in his film Live and Let Die. This refined and quite potent aroma could be the expression of the seventies Bond. Equipage opens with a heavy set of notes similar to an Eau de Cologne or barbershop lotion: untimely, confusing, and heavy, something common in formulas from decades before the nineties. It has a heavy floral base on clove supported by a strong moss-musk that demands time to show its long evolutions (8h+) and which at times feels slightly green due to its pine tip note. Talcum-powdered with classic and reserved evolutions, without reaching gentlemanly heights, it’s an aroma for a gentleman where the classic and modern meet. After a normal application, it has a semi-linear behaviour where, at times, as body temperature rises, it expresses shines, greens, and citrus common in very neat and refined after-shave lotions, where the talcum-powdered floral bouquet blooms, very evident within the brand’s philosophy and which I’ve observed in Bel Ami, though denoting less joviality. Undoubtedly, Equipage is not a headache nor would I kill to own it; it’s an aroma of the era to which it belongs, an era that in this Hermès is proposed with much elegance and refinement.

I’m reviewing a vintage version from the 70s. The liquid is very dark amber, so ageing may have changed it. At the start, on blotter and skin, the aldehydic note is brutal, the strongest I’ve tried; alongside dry and green citrus, it smells like old whisky or cognac. The trail starts heavy but drops quickly. By 5:30, with the heat, I didn’t sense the florals as clearly as on the blotter, where the carnation and valley lily shine. On skin, that mix smells like leather, with a soft musky finish, oakmoss and patchouli. It’s dry, with that dusty, old-school leather, but with classic elegance for formal events. The trail, typical of Hermès, is moderate to soft, and that gives it charm. It ends clinging to the skin, intimate. It lasts 8 to 10 hours, but the last few are skin scent only. I believe, as others say, it suits intermediate seasons better.

I was craving a sweet, pastoral walk, something different from the classic Bel-Ami, but instead I encountered a dry, spiced woods scent that, while fitting the wood notes, doesn’t seem original these days. It sounds like other similar fragrances and the price hasn’t dropped, so I see it as elegant for formal occasions and mature men, but from the 70s until 2014 it has lost many links of originality.