Balafre
Lancôme (1967)

Balafre by Lancôme (1967) is a pretty unique men's fragrance and the first official one from Lancôme, the latter fact alone making it pretty important. Something of a bridge between a chypre and a fougère, the composition Gerard Goupy worked into Balafre places a prominent lavender at the center of an citrus aromatic chypre built up around labdanum, oakmoss, and pine in place of the usual sandalwood, with dandy florals men enjoyed like carnation and rose geranium surrounding. It's a pretty smart composition considering the late 1960's context, where aromatic chypres had dominated since the late 1940's but were suddenly facing heat from renewed interest in fougères thanks to Fabergé Brut (1964) and Speidel-Textron British Sterling (1965). All the while doing this handshake between sweeter, rounder fougères and tart, soapy chypres, Goupy also took inspiration from Italian men's cologne staples like Acqua di Selva by Victor (1947) and Pino Silvestri by Vidal (1955), with a neat backstory to boot.

Le Balafre (The Scarred) was the nickname of a historical figure named Henry I de Lorianne, Duke of Guise. He was involved in the St. Bartholomew’s Massacre, and "balafre" itself is the French word for scar. My guess is such an edgy type was considered romantic, and an appropriate subject for Lancôme's first outing into the exclusive men's market. The scent therefore, reads as something a bit dark, hirsute, and brusque in appearance, like a lumberjack with a beefy, chiselled frame barely contained in his flannel; yet there is a grace in the balance between the chypre and fougère elements, dried and made sophisticated with just a touch of urbane feel thanks to the mild chamomile riff that goes throughout it. Like I said, pretty unique scent for the 1960's, and I am at great pain to mention anything remotely close besides maybe Wind Drift by MEM (1970), which was much sunnier with more bergamot and cistus labdanum, and possibly Eau Cendrée by Jacomo (1970) with its woody spiced carnation. I think this smart combination was the key to Balafre's longevity.

Unlike other Lancôme men's fragrances that either lived or died by short-term success and/or failure, Balafre stayed around at least into the 1980's, undergoing a few packaging changes and eventually gaining two flanker siblings in 1974 in the form of Balafre Vert (1974) and Balafre Brun (1974), making Balafre overall a complete range with soaps, shaving products, and all the bells. Only Trophée Lancôme (1982) seemed to last longer, as it was a perennial seller with a strong tie to the golf tournament of the same name that Lancôme itself sponsored until 2003, due to it's new corporate owners deciding that doing anything for anyone not exploitative in nature was bad for business. Balafre was long gone by then in its original form, but 2011 saw a spate of limited re-issues under the "Maison Lancôme" heading, consisting of full re-orchestrations to avoid paying anyone to tinker with the by-then untenable formulas. I can't speak to those latter bottles, but Balafre as it was would seem better a prop in a Quentin Tarantino period piece than as something guys would want now, sadly. Thumbs up

Balafre is what Michel of Godard's À bout de souffle would've worn. Balafre is a chocolate brown wool suit; an engraved brass cigarette case containing Tareyton cigarettes. It's a worldly man on the verge of breaking free from the hegemony to live in a cabin in the woods, but just can't muster the courage to do it. Balafre stares at a floating Alexander Calder mobile and spaces out the colors. Balafre is a man advised by a guru to seek the anima within him, but would rather get lost in scotch and Scott Walker albums. Balafre has a Mattachine Review hidden in an issue of Gentleman's Quarterly. The sound it would make is incidental music played with a rhodes and celeste.

It's a moody mossy number, flanked with resin-whipped lavender, dark green pines, and shady cedars. Herbal-musky, muted green and dusky. It's sonorous, but shows a gentle restraint. It feels like the relief of cool late September air after a long summer. It declares "it's just a glorious time to be alive!" It has that same distinguished man flair that Monsieur Rochas and Equipage have, however, the conifers are the centerpiece in Balafre. Unfortunately, it goes for a pretty penny nowadays, but if this captures your imagination, patiently await a modest 20ml vial like my own and apply judiciously.

I have an old, original sample from the 60’s, so I’m not expecting much from the top notes while I am expecting a familiar, mature scent from the rest of Balafre.

It is earthy, green, musky, and very masculine. Any yes, it feels very mature and dated. To some that will be appealing while telling others to steer clear. Very familiar and nothing special, but still a nice scent for a distinguished mature man who enjoys old school classics dripping with masculinity.

Green barbershop fougere with geranium, pine, and green notes. It has a pleasant sharpness that sets it apart from other similar smelling fragrances.

A very soapy opening with bergamot which gives way to pine, moss and lavender. Eventually you can smell leather, it's herbal and oldschool remniscent of Derby by Guerlain.

It smells nice and is complex with many notes coming and going within the herbal mix. The only downside is that it only lasts a few hours and then it's gone.

The opening is absolutely perfect, with green notes, bergamot, lavender, neroli and a hint of oregano forming a wonderful mix. Later wood notes, pine and cypress mainly on my skin, softened by flowery components - geranium and carnation - dominate the middle phase, all reminiscences of Southern French Mediterranean gardens in bloom. Delicious. Here is reminds me a bit of Grès' Monsieur, and also of the latter's Cabaret. In the base I mainly get a very soft amber, with gentle musk and mossy undertones. The development from one phase to the next is always interesting, and
the whole is an extremely well-blended scent that never looses structure. Excellent silage and projection with six hours of longevity on me. A supreme Loncôme classic for autumnal days.