Chamade Extrait
Guerlain (1969)

(Extrait made in Oct 1983)
What to say about this perfume. No description is going to be just and sufficient. It is recognizably Jean Paul Guerlain: every note speaks at the perfect and intentional volume, the staging and evolution of the fragrance's accords is orchestrated like a beautiful ballet, and like all Guerlain extraits it takes you on a journey that is going to turn and twist for hours and hours. What is most readily apparent upon the application are the hyacinth, rose, and jasmine accords. They are potent and beautiful. Throughout the life of the fragrance, and the opening is no exception, there are ample doses of powdery aldehydes. There is a definite green and herbal quality, and floral without a doubt, but perhaps flowers that are only beginning to bloom and haven't put out their full aroma yet. As it dries down - nearly 4 hours later - the youthful green but floral energy is still that, but the flowers have completely bloomed - gone is the greenness, making way for mature florals and a touch of sweetness. It's a beautiful transition - thump thump thump goes my heart. At this point, and then several hours more into the fragrance, the base accords have more of a say as the bright woods, ambers, and vanilla warm you. It doesn't fully register with you until you've spent a significant amount of time with Chamade how much the amberics have been working behind the scenes. The modern-day perfume enthusiast used to the ambers of this part of the 21st century could be forgiven for not recognizing this because - unlike most 21st century ambers - Chamade is bright and energetic. It radiates with passion and joie de vivre. The complete opposite of a cloying, bulbous, sweet, lumpy, vanillic mess. That energy is what makes it so special. That tenacity without being strident and lumpen is a beauty all to its own. This is one of the greatest perfumes of all time, and that's really all that needs to be said.

This is a GORGEOUS SCENT. Divine!! The opening is so unique. I have nothing else like this in my collection. I have a galbanum opener in Chanel Bel Respiro, but this combines galbanum with a beautiful floral note which makes it smell feminine. Beautiful midnotes (something mystical and connected to Nahema drifts in) and drydown ( OMG who doesn’t love vanilla and sandalwood). I am very very pleased to have this in my scent wardrobe.

This is a seriously overlooked and under-rated masterpiece.

"Un cœur d’artichaut” - thump, thump, heart accelerating, love lies bleeding, exhilarating is the smell of Chamade, achingly good as it lands on skin, bent-stem-sap-flowing-out greenness, poet's narcissus that flirt, pink and white hyacinths that seem delicate and then haunt closed quarters with their plangent vernal scent. Ripe lilac petals bruised and dripping, the sound of English horns as seeming teardrops fall from blooms in their twilight stage before they recede until another year. Roses tremble at the wake of these mid-spring flowers saying tearful goodbyes and promising to return after another of Earth's orbits around the sun. Will there be another year for me?

Cranesbill geranium leaves and lily of the valley are heated by the midday sun in May, that's what I now smell, with rose bushes in the periphery, their saturated colors stand out like a constellation against the courtyard. The garden is painted impasto, jutting out in relief, almost swelling, as tears harden into resins, sweet, tacky, coalescing with the green foliage and fully-fledged flowers, lathered and spiced edges, silky yet wooden. Eyes are dried and when opened once more, the mid-spring flowers are gone, leaving vegetation to grow unruly as summer envelops the surroundings, getting all "handy" in the tolu and benzoin like bears pawing at a beehive. From a glorious pell-mell in the garden what I now find is a powder-soft belly to find comfort.

The extrait of Chamade shapeshifts in a way very few perfumes do in the modern age, and I marvel at it. I cherish it.

Although I have the modern parfum, not the vintage extrait, I agree wholeheartedly with Starblind's review. Chamade opens very green, harsh even, and just when I thought it was all rather disappointing and why did I ever buy this, it calmed down and turned into the most beautiful scent. Now, many hours later, I'm still getting whiffs of something gorgeous, and I realize it's Chamade. Simply wonderful.

"The drumbeat of surrender." I like Chamade. It smells almost exactly like the Coty Emeraude my dad's mom wore in the 1970s. I'd classify Chamade as a green oriental. The bottle is super cute. Depending on my mood, sometimes Chamade can be a little too powdery for my taste.

I thought I knew Chamade, but that was before I smelled the vintage extrait. Now--my, oh my--I am completely entranced. I tend to love the unpredictable and changeable, both in nature and in humans, so I guess it isn't that surprising that I am rather taken with this scent. As anyone who has smelled this fragrance for any length of time will attest, 'mercurial' is its middle name. What you get at the beginning is definitely not what you get at the middle or at the end. Someone on Fragrantica referred to Chamade as a 'lightning-and-thunder' scent, and I agree. This Guerlain first strikes with a greenness that is practically blinding thanks to its double whammy of galbanum and narcissus. But just when you start bemoaning the fact that you hadn't signed up for the taloned greens of Private Collection or No. 19, an amazing transformation takes place. In some of the smoothest shape-shifting ever, Chamade sheaths its claws and rolls gently over, revealing the softest, most rosey and downy of underbellies, complete with a blush of baby-pink powder that invites you to come ever closer. This new iteration purrs along for hours and hours, causing the wearer to sigh in comfort and delight. How this astonishing sleight-of-hand is achieved, I have no idea, I simply revel in its magic.

Love, pure love.