Eau d'Hermès
Eau de Toilette, Hermès (1951)

This is the first perfume created by Hermes, composed by the legend Edmond Roudnitska, which next year in 2026 will be 75 years old. Just like timeless pieces of music, it's wonderful to know that the age of some things does not preclude them from sticking around or being popular. Eau d'Hermes certainly caught attention, and inspired quite a few perfumes in its wake. I pondered quite some time ago while smelling Jean-Claude Ellena's Declaration for Cartier, which was 40 years junior at its release, that I was smelling a modernized, JCE-style homage to Eau d'Hermes. Let's start there.

I haven't smelled EdH for a long time, so this new formulation in a decant will (hopefully) be a pleasant trip down memory lane, and it does indeed start that way. Instantly upon application to my skin I am hit with a gorgeous and enveloping cloud of cinnamon, coriander, and cumin. That cinnamon note in particular... oh my is it good. So warm and fresh, like you're smelling the cinnamon bark right after it's been stripped from the tree. Unfortunately, it is very short-lived, fading into the background quite quickly, so I was tempted to spray EdH again but thought better of it - remembering that this perfume is a bit of an animal and easy to overdo. Nearly as quickly as the cinnamon fades to the background in a matter of less than a minute, and the coriander and cumin calm down yet still remain in front, a super juicy yet green bergamot note springs forward. It has this effect as if you put a bergamot half in a juicer, squeezed, and the juice sprays everywhere. The green sour quality to the bergamot, at least in this formulation, is so pronounced I almost thought Hermes went with something more akin to a lime accord in this formulation. That mix of earthy, sweaty, and savory seed spices plus juicy green sourness is an odd combo, but nonetheless very pleasant. So far, so good - and fun!

The dry down from the top happens quite quickly, again, introducing a soft floral accord of what seems to be jasmine and geranium. Fortunately, it leans heavier on the white floral and indolic jasmine than the camphoraceous geranium, the latter seeming to work to fill in the holes of the heart rather than playing a starring role. This is where things start to veer slightly off course from vintage versions of EdH, say prior to the early-to-mid 00s (the age of the last bottle I smelled). I remember thinking the floral heart was more pronounced, as this time around it is very meek and short lived. The seed spices of coriander and cumin, cinnamon almost inaudibly humming in the background, are sewing their way through the heart and become more apparent after the short-lived florals completely disappear. The final skin scent is a mix of smooth and well-worn leather, dry tonka, and woods. Here is yet another detraction. I remember EdH being an animal, particularly at the base. The leather was more pronounced, the tonka more pronounced, there was definitely a cistus note driving a really raunchy civet type accord. This EdH is very well behaved, quite quiet and restrained. The growling and non-domesticated beast that I remember has gotten old and used to humans, and now acts like a companion rather than a wild animal.

I find this kind of sad, honestly. Don't get me wrong, EdH in its current form is still really good; this is still high on the list of classic masculines even by today's judgements. And I imagine the need to make sure it still secured a spot on the list of some-of-the-best masculines you can buy today, Hermes felt the need to tame it. And so they did. They tamed it well; it's still Eau, it still smells great, and I still love it. But I miss the beast.

This stuff doesn’t whisper—it leans in, raises an eyebrow, and starts talking in low, confident tones. The opening is one of the most striking in perfumery: citrus and spice, sure, but also something raw and unmistakably human. The bergamot and petitgrain give you a flash of brightness, and then the cumin and coriander slide in—not with brute force, but with intention.

As it develops, the leather comes forward—not harsh or waxy, but smooth, tawny, lived-in. Paired with the warmth of florals and spice (clove, cardamom, cinnamon—take your pick), it creates that almost sacred-profane tension Roudnitska was so good at. If Terre d’Hermès is the outdoors in a bottle, Eau d’Hermès is the skin under your shirt after a long day in the sun—familiar, slightly animalic, and charged with memory.

There’s no sweetness here, no perfumey fluff—just a dry, spiced sensuality that feels old-world without being fusty. You get echoes of Jicky, and you can see how this scent laid the groundwork for Déclaration, but neither of those quite capture the dusty, musky warmth that makes this so compelling. I’m wearing the current black-capped version, which tones down the civet of earlier formulas, but keeps the spirit intact: the sensuality is more suggested than explicit, and no less evocative for it.

Not for everyone, but if you’ve got a taste for the classics with teeth—and you like your leathers spiced and your citruses shadowed—this one’s worth tracking down. It’s a gentleman with wild thoughts, dressed just well enough to get away with them.

Beautiful citruses contrasted with dry spices which a light dose of cumin adds a great sensuality to the fragrance. It's very light and stays close to you with longevity of about three hours. But I find it very enchanting!

I find the opening of Eau d'Hermes to be one of the most refreshing and bracing: the bergamot and petitgrain harmonizes with the cumin and coriander. It is a real showstopper, but it doesn't end there: as the smooth, tawny leather and florals come to the fore, there is this synergy of sacred and profane for which I am such a sucker.

This is the grandfather of Terre d'Hermes and the muse for Declaration. However, Eau d'Hermes exudes a debonair yet sultry sensation for which the other two, while remarkable in their own right, fall just short. Indeed, one can find a similar quality in Jicky, however here the lavender is rather a supporting player then the main act. I might be tempted to say that the cumin is the main act (and rumor has it that older formulations lack the strong presence of this pungent spice, but the formulation I have is the one with which I fell in love), but I really think that it isn't overbearing at all; it really is the leather and florals that are accented, along with other spices such as clove and cardamom. There seems to be still others that, while not listed in the notes pyramid, seem evident to the nose (nutmeg, for example). So, it is really the sum of all these piquant, aromatic spices that stir the senses, accenting and shading the other notes. They also seem to blend seamlessly with the leather that hums. Also, yes, it all coalesces into sweaty, visceral sensuality, but not in a brazen manner. It still manages to come off as genteel, and that is the magic and appeal of Eau d'Hermes.

I would be remiss without giving proper credit to Colonial Drug in Newton, MA for introducing me to this beauty. What a stellar education on exceptional fragrances from these fine folks. I tip my hat!

2020 formulation.

Like no other perfume I've smelled. Fresh, dirty, crisp, raunchy, luminous, spare, biting, silky, vaporous, sculptural, familiar, exotic. Chic with a knowing wink. The ultimate skin scent. It reeks of sensual pleasures and old-world elegance, yet is as brisk and bold as an autumn dawn, reminding us that classic perfumes needn't be treated like dusty museum pieces. Robust citrus, full-bodied florals and sinewy spices ride carefree on a sun-warmed leather saddle. Eau d'Hermès feels alive and elemental, like something borne of nature, captured by human hands but not created by them. There's nothing I would add or take away here, no room for improvement. It's fresh when I want fresh, sexy when I want sexy, weird when I want weird. It doesn't outstay its welcome, and it gives my day a glinting edge, with a sense of cheeky joy. Eau d'Hermès is not a safe blind buy - please trust me on this - but if you're on its wavelength, you won't find much better.

TL;DR (19th April, 2021, inspired by coppertop 2001 vintage)

Sheep on wind-swept peak
Beauty vast to ev'ry side
Foiling ev'ry fall

2nd TL;DR (20th April, 2021, inspired by clear-cap 2008 vintage)

What is clarity?
Lenses fore and aft in time
Correcting themselves.

Original (17th April, 2021)

Pretty
Dirty
Shitty
Purty

Eau d'Her
Mès she
Set yer
Nez free

Classy
Freshie
Brassy
Fleshy

Saddle
Subtle
Buttly
Scuttle

Jekyll
Hydin'
Carriage
Ridin'

Mary
Wanna
Polly
Gonna

Terre d's
Mama's
Merdous
Dramas

Spray on
Clothing
Merdure
Loathing

Way of
Roudy
Thing of
Beauty

Spacy
Spicy
Lacy
Lysy

Copper
Capper
Topper
Tapper

Dipper
Sprayer
Dapper
Stayer

Better
Modder
Ne'er do
Weller

Clearer
Capper
Caster
Speller

Newer
Liker
Redder
Fumer

Eau d'
Cook.bot
Frag.com
Sumer

Clean'n'
Dirty
Kin of
Kouros

Fire'n'
On Ol'
Fac' tree
Neuros

Classic
Boutiq'
Stick-a
Rounder

Classy
'Questry
Clique-a
Stounder

Time two
Wrap up
This here
Present

From this
Ol' fac'
Tory
Peasant

Like it
Love it
Leave it
Spray it

So damn
Good I
Had to
Say it.