Calèche Hermès 1992 Soie de Parfum

My first encounter with Calèche was as a young woman in 1969 at the perfume shop where I had switched after my apprenticeship in the drugstore. Surprisingly, I still remember what I was wearing, as I had on a moss-green knitted dress that I complemented with a celluloid combination of chain and belt. Today, it's hard to imagine celluloid accessories. Later, only combs were made from it, and the material, with its irregular brown pattern, was supposed to imitate real tortoiseshell. Back then, costume jewelry made from it was quite "in."

The reason I remember so clearly what I wore is that one of the new colleagues pointed out to me on the very first day that these warm colors only suited me when I dyed my hair. Influenced as I was back then, I wore my hair chestnut brown from that point on. It wasn't until later that I realized this color wasn't optimal for me, and from then on, I only wore cold colors in terms of clothing, hair color, and jewelry.

However, I never let myself be influenced when it came to my fragrance taste. I loved Calèche back then; it accompanied me throughout my professional life, and I brushed off the fact that later colleagues wrinkled their noses at it because they loved Tresor, Loulou, Gucci Rush, or any of the trendy loud scents. For a while, Calèche wasn't forgotten, but the collection grew; I wore Chanel 19, Safari, the original Feminite du Bois by Shiseido, and many other rather austere perfumes. Then, in 1992, Calèche was reformulated, and the result is part of why I initially didn't find the perfumers' urge to renew so bad, because Soie de Parfum is truly successful. It's as if you were to make the collar of an out-of-fashion blazer a bit narrower or wear different accessories with it. Modernized, yet still the good old piece. I wore such a piece by Daniel Hechter until the seamstress went on strike... The successor was my first pinstripe pantsuit with a Marlene pant. And again, Calèche was part of completing the look.

There is hardly a chypre fragrance that is equipped with so much understatement. Reserved yet present, enduring and serious, a fluid that expresses elegance, harmony, and nobility. When you look at the pyramid and also the mood that the fragrance spreads, you can't shake the suspicion that Guy Robert had the lovers of Chanel N°5 in mind with his creation. But where N°5 loves the grand entrance, Calèche has long mingled with the audience. In my collection, Soie de Calèche will always have a place.

It was the two comments below that made me dare to make a blind purchase. So, thank you for your work, Turandot and IrisNobile, for which I am now reaping the reward in the form of this beautiful fragrance. A successful blind purchase, which has already been followed by a second bottle, and I already know that I will count this “Caleche” at the end of the year as one of my most beautiful discoveries of the year - perhaps the most beautiful.

I perceive this scent as infinitely delicate and fragile; the word “bell-clear” constantly crossed my mind during the first tests. It sparkles, it tingles, and for me, it is the ultimate blend of some of my favorite fragrances:
The most beautiful floral colors of Chanel 5, the powdery and “glassily-transparent” aldehyde and powder drydown of Chanel “Eau Premiere” (the 2015 version), the lightness, positive and peaceful aura of “L’Air du Temps,” and the bright, sparkling cheerfulness and charm of “Liu” by Guerlain.

I smell a nose-pleasing, balanced blend of light pastel-colored, delicate flowers, fresh and more spring-like than summery, and I smell infinitely soft, crystal-clear aldehydes, lightly citrus-tinged, which together with the powdery iris create a texture that wraps around the flowers like a soft silk scarf, warming them while allowing them to sparkle so wonderfully vivaciously.
I perceive “Caleche” as clean, sometimes on the verge of soapy, where I would define soapy here as a very soft and warm soap powder or very clean body powder, thus without sharpness and without any harsh soapiness, rather mossy soft and, despite its cleanliness, pleasantly warm and sunny.
The fragrance makes me feel like strolling along sunlit flower beds and conveys a profound sense of lightness and carefree joy. At the same time, thanks to its quiet, unexcited presence and floral delicacy, it feels very elegant.
Why am I only getting to know this fragrance now? It combines everything I love about perfume. It sparkles, it tingles, it blooms, it smiles, it is so softly flattering, a floral symphony, whose scent filters through a delicate, powdered lace handkerchief to reach my nose.

Once upon a time ..... And it must be more than 20 years ago when I caught sight of a beautiful, slender, light-reflecting, high-quality-looking bottle while washing my hands in the luxury bathroom of a family acquaintance. - Always very fond of various scents, it was only natural that I indulged in 'a certain amount' of it right away. - It was a splash - and it went everywhere. - Returning to the living areas, this overflowing cloud of fragrance carried me into a rather embarrassing situation -, yet the sensations that this perfume - back then an EDT - conveyed to me and that carried me like on wings through the rest of that day have not changed in any way. I was enchanted by the elixir of a beautiful, good fairy. - Thoughts about fragrance pyramids, - developments or - directions were of no concern to me back then, - respectively - I found many scents wonderful, used them - and that was about it.
It's nice that perfume has now also become a small passion with more intense engagement.
Now it's about 'Caleche soie de Parfum', a newer creation that hardly deviates from the scent perception of the EDT.

------ "My lady, the landau has just arrived!" The good Merle, maid and mature girl for everything, says it politely yet excitedly. "Today is going to be a very beautiful day!"
The day is bright, friendly, and warm, just right for the long-awaited outing, after an endless phase of rain has provided meadows, fields, and forests with the necessary foundation for life. Nature has a lot to offer in this early summer.
The 'lady' steps out of her manor, squinting in the sun; fresh, clean air surrounds her, - a scent she knows when the freshly washed, sun-dried linen has been newly laid out. - She recognizes the outlines of her carriage with Hannes, the coachman, on the box. They help her over the unfolded steps into the carriage, and it sets off.

They pass by dense meadows, with their flowers reaching towards the warm sun; by gardens where the remnants of the rain are busily wiped from the furniture and whose full fragrant floral beauties stretch their heads into the gold of the day.
The floral scent trails now weave through the fine, soapy breeze. She feels a sublime elegance in this perception. An elegance that - after her horses have reached the small oak forest - is further deepened by the light wind that carries the herbaceous mossy notes of the little woods and, combined with the evaporation of the sun-warmed wood, creates a truly high-elegant, finely herbaceous-floral olfactory experience. -

The landau continues on its way for a good distance through this bright morning landscape - perhaps towards a promising rendezvous, and the noble lady indulges in her intoxicating olfactory perception in the meantime. - It may be that the 'gracious lady' applied 'Caleche' during her morning toilet -------

The magic of this perfume has remained - just as I remember it. A classic scent that does not "age" and still inspires.
The longevity is about 8-10 hours; the sillage is well perceivable, yet it never becomes intrusive due to the noble aura of this fragrance.

Oh dear, it's been sitting with the Lauder!!! fragrances for YEARS and it "hasn't made itself known"?!
Or have I just about forgotten it? I was searching for a specific perfume, which I did find, but this "carriage," rediscovered by "chance," is currently my main interest. What a Chypre treasure!
It starts warm with sunny citrus fruits and a hint of coniferous green. Fine aldehydes harmoniously bring everything together. Then the first flowers immerse the scent in a spring-like sea of blossoms, lily of the valley and the first blue irises make their appearance.
Little by little, more and more come into play - climbing rose, delicate jasmine, cool gardenia, all subtly "sweetened" with great radiance. Fine powder gives a lingering scent that already hints at the base, where it definitely becomes MOSSY-WOODY.
Yet no previous phase of the perfume is overshadowed or "thrown out," it simply integrates as if it had been there from the very beginning.
A wonderful "vintage" scent, where the wooden wheels of a "noble carriage" from a distant past turn. With a team of four horses in front and slightly worn leather seats under a linen canopy.
Truly not a scent to be "almost forgotten" - one that teaches the art of raving and deserves a fitting review! ;-))

One thing is the scent ...

The scent of the wood from which the carriage is made is coaxed out by the warmth of the sun. A very elegant citrus note joins in, accompanied by floral-powdery iris accords that make the whole experience very soft and warm, settling into an aldehydic moss bed. Timeless, unpretentious, classic, noble, and beautiful.

The other is the associated memory ...

The bedroom is flooded with sunlight. I see dust particles dancing in the air. The object of my desire is a light wood dresser, adorned with a mirror and faithfully holding my mother's makeup treasures. I am four years old, wearing Mama's high heels, wrapped in her fur jacket, and combing my blonde curls with her hairbrush. Oh... how I feel like a lady!

The lipstick still needs to go on, a bit of the pleasantly scented cream on my nose, and the perfume must never be missing! That's how you do it when you want to be all chic, right?

The door opens. Mama looks at me. A bit horrified because I have lightly tangled her beautiful pearl necklace around my neck, a bit amused because my lipstick art resembles more the circus-ready performance of a clown, and with a lot of understanding love because she knows how fascinated I am by the nicely smelling "grown-up things" she possesses and that I want to have one day too. (Besides, she is probably pleased that she was right again and followed her inner intuition to check why it was so suspiciously quiet in the bedroom?)

"But you really mustn't play with that. It's expensive." With these explanatory words, she puts the perfume bottle in the cupboard and closes the door, keeping the object of my desire safe from me for the time being. Pouting, I push my lower lip out, resign myself to my fate, and firmly declare to her that I need my own perfume.

By the way, my mother takes this wish seriously and gifts me a floral scent from Avon for my fifth birthday. (Her friend was an Avon representative :-) )
A delicate floral fragrance, just right for children's noses! I am sooo proud and guard it like a treasure. Out of fear that it might run out too quickly, I use it only rarely. But often I take off the cap just to sniff it, closing my eyes and letting out a delighted sigh.

Then there are those Sundays when Dad has time for the family and we go on an outing together. I sit in the back of the car (not buckled up, of course) and in those moments, I particularly perceive my mother's scent while we listen to music from the blaring radio and I loudly try to sing along.

She smells like "Calèche" (translated: carriage) by Hermès. Of course, I had no idea about this name back then, and I couldn't even say if I found the scent beautiful. But that didn't matter because it smelled like "Mama."

One day, the neighboring house was converted into a home for Turkish compatriots. One of the residents eventually became a loyal friend of our family. He had left his own family in Turkey, came to Germany to earn money, and was plagued by homesickness and longing for his children and wife. When he returned from his trips home, he always brought me sweets that tasted completely different from anything I had known so far, and for my mother, there was a bottle of "Calèche." At some point, he had learned that she loved the scent and knew that this souvenir from duty-free always brought her great joy.

After her death, I disposed of the empty Calèche bottles. I couldn't bring myself to open the cap and smell it one more time. I couldn't have endured the pain in that moment.

Many years have passed since then, and the memories of my mother have become less painful over time, but they remain vivid. Next year, her grave is to be dissolved. What will never dissolve is the gratitude that I had this special woman, who was incredibly brave, strong, and loving, as my mother.

Yesterday, a bottle of "Calèche" moved in with me. I take off the cap, sniff, and send fragrant greetings in a carriage towards the sky with a delighted sigh.