Habit Rouge Guerlain 1965 Eau de Cologne

A soft and blurry version of Habit Rouge. The vintage Eau de Toilette is more dynamic than this, sweeter and sharper. It’s also louder - as you would expect.
But on the other hand, the Cologne sample is a plain script bottle, clearly older, and it could have faded with time.

Guerlain has already offered us one or another "Habit Rouge" flanker, the "Légère", the "L’Eau", a "Sport" variant, along with a crude offshoot called "Sport Edition Gentleman Driver", or equipped with additions like "Beau Cavalier", "Armoiries", etc.
There are so many that one would like to shout at Guerlain: enough! Especially considering that there is still the Eau de Toilette, the Eau de Parfum, and for some time now, the Parfum.
However, there is one "Habit Rouge" version that is no longer available, and that is the original.
A few years ago, it was discontinued - why, no one knows. Presumably, it sold poorly, and a reformulation that was already on the table wasn't worth the effort - who wears an Eau de Cologne in the here and now when there is already an Eau de Toilette and, for some time now, an Eau de Parfum?!

From 1965 (the year "Habit Rouge" was introduced) until well into the eighties, only this one version was available: the Eau de Cologne. It wasn't until 1988 that Guerlain launched an Eau de Toilette version to meet the general demand for stronger scents. Since then, the Eau de Cologne has lived a shadowy existence, especially since it was no longer advertised and was practically nowhere to be found in stores. However, it remained in production, as there were probably not a few who considered this original version their own over the course of almost 25 years.

Over the years, it has come to be that the Eau de Toilette from the late 80s is generally regarded as the original version of this epochal fragrance.
But that is not the case.

Anyone who wants to get to know the original scent, who wants to know how Jean-Paul Guerlain realized his - at the time revolutionary - idea of an oriental fragrance for men, must sniff this Eau de Cologne: it marks the entry into the Habit Rouge cosmos as we know it today - without this EdC, none of the higher concentrations, up to the Extrait - and all other flankers - would have existed.

But is it even worth considering this ancient version, given the predominantly excellent Habit Rouge variations?
I think so.
At the very least, it could be interesting for lovers of this fragrance and for those who prefer a well-made Eau de Cologne over all other fragrance concentrations.

In fact, the Eau de Cologne was still the medium of choice for men's fragrances at the time of Habit Rouge's creation - an Eau de Toilette was more of an exception, an Eau de Parfum had not yet been invented, and an Extrait was still far off.
One should not imagine Habit Rouge EdC as simply a diluted version of the Eau de Toilette - it had its own character, a structure typical of an Eau de Cologne, and above all: its own merits.

Of course, it is primarily recognizable as Habit Rouge: the well-known, talc-like powderiness, the floral-fresh-spicy heart, and the shimmering light, yet persistent oriental nuances in the base - all of this is clearly present. And yet, the scent develops some Cologne facets that are sought in vain in later versions: a delicate lemon verbena note, for example, which with its cool, slightly metallic accents cannot be missing in any classic Eau de Cologne (accompanied by neroli, bergamot, and many other citrus hints), as well as a woody backbone and a very subtle, anything but voluminous base.
Jean-Paul Guerlain laid a classic Cologne structure as the foundation for his formula and helped it achieve maximum refinement with a multitude of light strokes and fine nuances: here a hint of vanilla, just enough to remain barely recognizable; there a trace of leather, also almost unidentifiable; in the heart, the most inconspicuous floral bouquet, so subtle that hardly anyone could credibly assert they smell roses, jasmine, and carnations. Similarly hidden, so to speak in homeopathic dilution: the resins so obligatory for an oriental fragrance, such as labdanum, benzoin, and opoponax. And above all, like a white-frosted cake: a layer of the finest rosewood powder.

Thus, in 1965, this enriched Eau de Cologne presented itself to the world: as the first oriental-leathery scent for men, so finely - yes, intricately structured, that assigning it to the oriental world of "Shalimar" is just as difficult as to the leathery realm of "Knize Ten" or even "Bandit".
No, "Habit Rouge", especially in this Eau de Cologne version, truly stands apart from these opulent ("Shalimar") and dramatically assertive ("Bandit") masterpieces of perfume history, and yet is equal to them.
To resonate, it does not always have to be loud and crashing. Even a subtle presence can create a lasting impression, and that is exactly what "Habit Rouge" - initially as an Eau de Cologne - exemplarily demonstrated.

When comparing the Eau de Toilette developed many years later with its predecessor, it quickly becomes apparent which parts of the fragrance underwent reworking, namely those of the classic Cologne structure: the base was strengthened so that the vanilla, in conjunction with the sweet resins, comes to greater prominence. The heart also gained more weight, while the top notes were somewhat toned down and, with the removal of the lemon verbena, lost their Cologne-typical twist. Thus, the old scent was somewhat turned upside down, and the focus of the composition was shifted downwards, resulting in more volume and longevity (interestingly, the leathery nuances were not intensified, which leads me to perceive the leather much more in the Cologne).
This corresponded - as already mentioned - exactly to the needs of the rather loud 80s in almost all respects.
Whether the scent has thus become better, or - as many Habit Rouge purists claim - worse, is debatable. In any case, it has become different: more self-assured and noticeable.

It is a pity that this Eau de Cologne no longer exists.
Personally, I would have gladly done without the "Légère", the "Habit Rouge Sport", or the "L’Eau" in favor of the original version of the fragrance - it is becoming more and more dear to me, after initial skepticism (olfactorily speaking, I am a child of the 80s), so that I am slowly leaning towards the side of the Habit Rouge purists who say: only this "Habit Rouge" and none other!

A newspaper advertisement for Habit Rouge from 1968 shows a male head, whose nose hovers over a bottle of Shalimar, with the line: "To all the secret followers of Guerlain perfumes, you can come out in the open with Habit Rouge for men." This was a year before the Stonewall Riot, the signal of the "Gay Rights Movement" in the USA.

Guerlain has always seen itself as a house for women's fragrances, just as Geo. F. Trumper dedicated itself solely to the grooming needs of gentlemen. Habit Rouge was the highly controversial attempt by the then 28-year-old Jean Paul Guerlain to sell a floral vanilla scent based on the classic Guerlinade to men. The trick was a very characteristic, masculine citrus-leather axis that balanced the feminine aspects, Yin and Yang.

As the advertisement suggested, men also liked the complex orientalism of a vanilla enriched with bergamot, rose, jasmine, tonka, iris root, balsamic resins, civet, and castoreum, and not just on women. Floral notes like violet and rose were not gendered in the 19th century; classics like Knize Ten or Varón Dandy from the twenties contained powdery-floral accords of rose, iris, clove, and vanilla or tonka, and Old Spice famously began its career in 1936 as a spicy-oriental women's fragrance. But undoubtedly, the dosage in Habit Rouge was bolder, so much so that Guerlain had to insist that his uncle Jacques release a toned-down "Dry" version in 1967. Habit Rouge slowly but ultimately made a strong mark in the market - a sign and perhaps even a modest engine of the value shift of this era - and although it would take years until the decade of unisex fragrances and metrosexuality, it represents a perfumery milestone, both in terms of the gender-specific shift in the fragrance spectrum and the fundamental de-gendering of perfumes. From Le Male to Dior Homme, many classics of the last decades would be unthinkable without Habit Rouge.

This Eau de Cologne is also a milestone and masterpiece in perfumery aesthetics, a classic of French style, where a highly complex combination of many materials culminates in absolutely seamless elegance. It is difficult to identify individual notes - and one does not want to; rather, one enjoys the beauty of this pointillistic olfactory artwork, whose meticulously arranged details create such a harmonious whole. Guerlain fused the lightness and freshness of a classic Eau de Cologne with the texture of an oriental (Aimée Guerlain, the creator of Jicky, must have nodded encouragingly from the beyond) and masculine leather, and where one ends and the other begins is indeterminate. Powdery orange is played around by rose, but this orange is already shaped by leather, and the rose is nestled in powdery iris root, which also corresponds with the leather, which in turn is co-composed by the resins - one leads to another like in a Celtic knot pattern, and the impressions of lightness and freshness as well as density, bitter spice, and sweetness interlock seamlessly.

Layers of olfactory complexity lie behind the elegant simplicity of this Eau de Cologne (whose concentration, however, surpassed most of today's EdTs) just as the cultural-historical sediments lie behind the striking name. Habit Rouge refers to the red coat of fox hunting and to the Anglomania of French fashion in the 18th century, when the "redingote" (riding coat) became the avant-garde dress of style-conscious (and politically Anglophile) Parisians, thus also reflecting England's influence on cosmetics and perfumery well into the 19th century, when the first Guerlain, Pierre-Francois-Pascal, studied the craft of soap making there. The riding whip used in some campaigns and designs is an unambiguous/ambiguous allusion. Which fox is being hunted here? Who is chastising and riding whom? The scent the wearer, the wearer the scent, the scent of the wearer the object of his desire? Who is "male," who is "female"? N'importe, as long as everyone has their pleasure and it smells good.

Habit Rouge is a great and deep fragrance with a great and deep history. A marvel of Jean Paul Guerlain, the greatest men's fragrance of the house and furthermore one of the most beautiful scents a man can exude. The countless editions and variations testify to its relevance, but the fact that the original Eau de Cologne is no longer available is sad. For once inhaled, one never forgets this unique scent, one wants to enjoy it again and intuitively understands the meaning of perfumery as a place of creative expression, as an expression of deepest beauty, as a valued eighth art.

They are still here, the treasures from the past! For some time now, I have been the owner of a generous bottle of the long-discontinued Eau de Cologne version of Habit Rouge - thanks to Profumo, who unfortunately had to wait an unreasonably long time for these lines. I hope he forgives me.

Because I had my reasons: Habit Rouge EdT was my preferred Sunday afternoon scent in the nineties. I always found it floral-soft, yet elegant - something relaxing that was very far from the usual robust men's fragrances. This fundamental character has always made Habit Rouge seem to me a bit like a retirement perfume - nothing dynamic or energetic is encountered here: it fits neither in office floors nor in sporty environments, despite its connection to horseback riding. Instead, I had to imagine older gentlemen taking a stroll in the spa park of Bad Salzuflen or similar places.

However, that never stopped me from wearing it. Habit Rouge was one of those densely woven Guerlain fragrances whose quality made me disregard the image.

My Habit Rouge has aged gracefully: it is or was one of the very few perfumes that could actually improve in quality over the aging process. At some point, it took on a beautiful amber hue, darkened, became heavier, and acquired an almost oily or liqueur-like quality. Eventually, of course, it did go off, so I had to repurchase.

But what could replace something so special? The Eau de Parfum version that was released some time ago seems very polished to me. The Eau de Cologne is no longer available and probably never will be again, so at some point, a new, unaged bottle of Habit Rouge Eau de Toilette made its way into my collection.

Perhaps a mispurchase. I have hardly worn it so far - I find the lighter flankers, Sport and L'Eau, as well as the discontinued Légère, all more convincing. From my previous fondness, almost a dislike has developed, and it took a long time before I finally decided to test the HR Eau de Cologne.

Even vintage versions are never what they once were. Regularly, a kind of aging must be assumed. In the case of my Habit Rouge Eau de Cologne bottle, I notice that it already achieves the longevity of an Eau de Toilette; I did not expect that.

Here at Parfumo, we list the Eau de Cologne version as a separate entry, and so the question arises whether there is actually a difference in the scent composition compared to the EdT version - and that can only be an older one as well - or if we are merely dealing with different concentrations of the same fragrance. The question is difficult to answer, as my only comparison is my memory of the old Eau de Toilette. Perhaps the Eau de Cologne version is a bit more transparent, more ethereal, with maybe a touch more bergamot in the top notes, and more powderiness in the drydown. But that could all be misleading.

In contrast, the direct comparison with the Habit Rouge EdT of today makes it immediately clear why I have developed this aversion. The current EdT is robust in every way: instead of delicate bergamot in the top, I perceive a composition that seems somewhat synthetic. Surely there has been an effort to reformulate gently, but the magic is still lost. The Habit Rouge of the past represented a completely independent and original fragrance in its density and complexity - it smelled unmistakably of, well, Habit Rouge. But in the current Eau de Toilette, the notes fall apart. I found the base particularly unpleasant. Here, an oriental accord stands out, which unpleasantly reminds me of the typical smell when entering an esoteric bookstore: this kind of patchouli-benzoin-vanilla accord is mixed by every second natural perfumer nowadays.

But enough with memories that are completely useless for most readers! The more interesting question is: is there a way to connect to or participate in the Habit Rouge experience of past decades? I believe, yes.

To my knowledge, it is not the well-known Eau de Toilette that should be considered the vintage version, but this Eau de Cologne. In the 50s and 60s, Eau de Toilettes for men were probably not yet common; that came later. That Habit Rouge was developed as such a "light" fragrance makes immediate sense to me. It was far too extravagant, too floral, soft, and fine to be applied heavily. Even the release of a Habit Rouge in Eau de Toilette strength at that time may have complicated access in a certain way.

Returning to the roots means in this case: remembering that Habit Rouge was launched in 1965 as a light men's cologne - not as an Eau de Toilette, not as an Eau de Parfum, and certainly not as an Extrait, a fundamentally terrifying idea. It is nice that Guerlain has released a few light versions as flankers in this sense, which I would gladly recommend in the search for the roots. Although especially Habit Rouge Sport strays very far from its notes, these flankers may better meet the original intention. Very delicate and light is the unfortunately already discontinued Légère, which leans most closely to the original scent. There may still be some remaining stocks available here and there. The fresh L'Eau stands roughly in the middle between HR Sport and the original and may be preferable to Sport.

Once again, heartfelt thanks to Profumo for the scent memories. I will surely use up the bottle.

What no one knew was that Wolle had a brother from the motorcycle gang who couldn't be more different. To be precise, he was his half-brother on their father's side. Neither of them had a favorable view of the other, as Wolle condemned his brother's motorcycle-free lifestyle and his lack of etiquette when it came to clothing. His brother owned not a single piece of leather clothing. Vice versa, the brother was ashamed of Wolle's manner and appearance in public. His escapades, like urinating against a glass building that unfortunately couldn't be seen from the outside, weren't even the worst part.
In any case, Klaus-Dieter, often called Pele, inherited his brother's and his Herne crew's affinity for scents when he respectfully noted that Wolle didn't smell so bad in his kutte anymore. He wasn't alone in this observation, and one evening he followed Wolle as he once again headed to the clubhouse to solve the mystery. Disguised with a wig, some makeup, and crumpled toilet paper as padding, he attended the meeting undercover and couldn't believe his eyes. The drunken, fat, and foolish donkeys in his eyes were testing fragrances! He quickly left the modern Ruhrpott gathering, but not without first having to fend off the advances of the boozehound Udo. Udo only gave up when he managed to snag a cold blonde from the bottle instead of the fake blonde.
Now, all those leather scents were not for Klaus-Dieter, who was more in the mood for royal, baroque fragrances that one could wear with a coat and scepter. Not just symbolically, as Pelé was a member and chairman of a club dedicated to preserving the baroque clothing style. In Herdecke. Thus, he reported to his friends and brought a perfume to the next meeting for Rolli (who liked to wear turtlenecks), and it was the Cologne from Habit Rouge.
“Rolli, my dear, what noble drop have you brought us? What smells so delightfully citrusy here? And at the same time so wicked and smoky and sophisticated?”
“As a man of the world, a gentleman of the old school, we don't know that side of you,” Torsten chimed in.
“This is the old Cologne from Habit Rouge, translated as the red tailcoat. An insane piece! An acquaintance from a community garden club, in which he is active, told me about it. I almost believe that all these bourgeois gatherings only serve to test perfumes.”
“Quite possible, half of Wolle's boys are usually too drunk to ride the motorcycle regularly. That would fit with your theory.”
A brief silence, then Pelé chimed in again: “So, what does it smell like exactly? Tell me something!”
“Well, first of all, it smells wonderfully citrusy, which also holds as the base note. Gradually, other elements dance with bergamot and lemon. For me, the leathery rose and the multifaceted sandalwood are particularly noteworthy. But a hint of cinnamon also joins the olfactory circle to round it off. Classic and noble.”
“That sounds fantastic!”
“It only gets better with the base. Cool and earthy oak moss meets variable, but at its core pleasantly masculine amber, which must be due to the influences of the leather accord and the resinous elements. These create a distinctly masculine yet seductive fragrance.”
“So it's not a Cologne like that Vf detergent?”
“No, but it’s named after that Cologne noble family.”
“So the circle closes with us, we should toast to that.”
---------------------

Epilogue: Wolle rushed into the restroom, urgently needing to make room for more beer. In the process, he stumbled over one of his club members: “Man, you scared me! I almost wet my pants! But you smell good, so leathery and fresh, what is that?”
“Um, a new scent I discovered, Habit Rouge EdC,” said Totty aka Torsten.