Chimere
Prince Matchabelli (1980)

Chimère is a sensible and somewhat sweet bygone drugstore chypre. It's another example of how Prince Matchabelli was a house that while long regarded as low-tier, managed to create brilliant, compact frags that were accessible to the every-person. The aldehydes that open it seem to serve the function of persuasion: they set the tone, but they don't define the story as a whole. What follows is what I describe as that impressionistic motley of floral tones. Suggestions of what could be rose, or lily of the valley, or something vaguely tuberose or gardenia—it all smells appetizing, yet light.

What makes Chimère notable, though, is how it is dominated by its charming spicy, patchouli-driven woody character, especially enjoyable as it cuts through the cold winter air. It is here that feels most voluptuous, enveloping me in something that feels poignant and faded in time. The fragrance itself is not faded, mind you; on the contrary, it still feels quite buoyant after however many years this bottle has existed. It's that impression of a faded past that clings on to the mind, as summoned through scent. In French, poursuivre des chimères means to chase rainbows...this seems apt.

I wasn't familiar with Chimera, but I got two mini perfumes in a lot that I purchased. Umm, this is gorgeous! I know we are talking different concentrations, but I can't believe we are talking the same scent. No one note jumps out, it is sweetly blended to perfection. I wish I could better describe it. I'm wearing this one to sleep tonight, it is just right for dreams.

I used up a small bottle of this 'drugstore cheapie' in my late teens. While I couldn't recall the fragrance itself, the mere sight of Chimere's distinctive bottle sparked yearnings to smell it again.

So, I was very excited to get, as part of a job lot, a couple of mls of EDC in the original bottle! The scent was still fresh and instantly recognisable (but no particular memories from the '80s came flooding back, unfortunately).

Tourmaline was spot-on in her note description of Chimere, but my assessment of this fragrance is not so harsh. I don't mind that there's some sweetness to take the edge off the chypre accord. Chimere smells a little plasticky at first, but when that settles, the citrus notes come to the fore and are actually very nice against a background of patchouli and perhaps a touch of incense.

Overall, this is a subtle and quite pleasant fragrance which shouldn't embarrass you in public.

This is a chypre from 1980, and it really straddles the line between the dry, bitter, classic chypres of the 70s and before, and the fruity-florals of the 80s; there is a chypre citrus note up top, but it is slighly sweet (as if there is some grapefruit or sweet mandarin among the bergamot), and off-puttingly so for this classic chypre lover. Composed of a cheap floral heart and dying down to a dusty, nondescript moss/woods base, this is a fairly bland, mediocre scent and it's no wonder that it did not succeed.

This smells like the epitome of musty-old-lady perfume.