Jockey Club
Caswell-Massey (1840)

Sampling Caswell-Massey Jockey Club EDP, a fresh spicy men’s scent from this now-revived classic American house, with a simple note breakdown of bergamot, honeyed rose, basil, and orris root. I certainly get the rose, along with a greenish woody powdery background, and it has a bit of an oriental-meets-chypre vibe to it, a less-woody-and-spicy-than-usual men’s offering from this house that makes up with some headiness and sharpness coming from rose and orris. Its opening is fairly bright but it dries down to being a bit more midway between bright and dark.

I think it’s great, even if not quite as compelling as Number Six or Oaire, my two favorites so far, but I still quite like in a sort of heady, old-fashioned way that’s high-performing, interesting, and one I would consider buying a travel size of to consider further. Still, it’s probably my third favorite of the line and very strong, overall.

As with most of the house’s EDP lineup, this is pried at $200/40 for 100/7.5ml, sold seemingly exclusively via the house website. There is also a Jockey Club Cologne, but this is rather the EDP.

8 out of 10

According to legend/PR, Caswell-Massey introduced its Jockey Club in 1840. Maybe, maybe not. I can find no reference to the original English version prior to 1850. (The “Jockey Club” in question is that of Epsom Downs, Surrey, and 1850 was the club’s centennial.) But, I have little doubt that the 1840 date is only off by perhaps 2–3 decades, as both the English and a competing French formulation were well established (and published) by the 1860s, and Jockey Club was popular enough as a generic in the US to be read into the congressional record of 1882 in a debate of tax policy.

That original English formulation called for orris, rose, cassie, tuberose, ambergris, and bergamot, while the French eschewed orris, ambergris, bergamot, and cassie in favor of jasmine and civet. Either way, that’s rather different from the mixed white florals, sandalwood, and musk in the BN pyramid—which in turn hardly accounts for the “350 different aromatics” claimed by C-M president Ralph Taylor in 1959.

None of that matters with regard to wearing the stuff, of course. The dark green juice in my mid-20th century bottle is stylistically archaic now, whenever and however it was formulated. But damn if it doesn’t smell good: a velvety, soapy, mossy bouquet that suggests a 19th century barbershop even if it would’ve been anachronistic then.

So, it’s REALLY old man smell. And I’m cool with that.

A review of the Heritage re-issue:

The opening combines a floral set - jasmine, geranium, carnation - with a citrus dyad - lime and bargamot, with the latter two brightening and freshening up the top note experience. Lovely.

The drydown adds a sweeter component, which is owed to an ylang-ylang impression; it has a smooth and somewhat creamy touch but lacks strong intensity and richness. This makes it not as dominant as it could be, which results in it fitting in well with the rest as a team player.

Later on, and ambery ambrox-laden notes develops, which, later on, morphs into a restrained sandalwood effect that is contrasted it's an undertone of white musks. After the the development has run its course for about four hours or so, a soapiness develops slowly that remains the hallmark of this composition until the end. This soapy note gas a bit of a barbershop character, but with a distinctly green tinge and a herbal undertone.

I get moderate sillage, very good projection, and an astounding longevity of twelve hours on my skin.

This reformulation keeps sone of the original feats, but is streamlined and veering towards the less deep and less textured side. Nonetheless, this version of the old classic - reportedly a favourite of John F Kennedy - is still attractive with a superb longevity. 3.25/5

Interesting and old-world smelling. When I smell JC I think of the old library at Trinity College...monocles, moustaches and art deco fashion. I like this fragrance. It is best for special occasions like weddings, anniversaries or a trip to the races. The bottle, label and packaging are superb.

Jockey Club by Caswell-Massey (1840) was the first scent not created by founder William Hunter to be introduced by the venerable Caswell-Massey, after the Hunter family sold the business to new owners Roland Hazard and John Rose Caswell. It changed names from Dr. Hunter's Dispensary to Hazard and Caswell when this scent was launched, then Caswell-Hazard upon Mr. Hazard's death, and finally Caswell-Massey in 1876 when one William Massey joined John Caswell in ownership. During this tumultuous period of renaming and reorganization, the emphasis also shifted from the original Newport, Rhode Island shop of the late William Hunter to shops in New York City, where popularity for this scent flourished among the growing upper-middle class of the American industrial age. Jockey Club differs a lot from many other cologne-style fragrances that men used in the 18th and 19th centuries, acting like something of a bridge between classic floral perfumery and the late 19th century/early 20th century barbershop scents that would be the new male standard upon arrival. It's not a fougère, but Jockey Club is very similar to the composition of one because it does contain some tonka; however this raw note isn't comparable to the pure extracted chemical coumarin used in proper fougères, and acts only as part of the fixative. The real stars of the show here are the florals, talc notes, and musk. The term "Jockey Club" itself was not unique to Caswell-Massey, as much like "Musk", "Sport", "Black", or "Intense" are used to describe a type of smell, so was the term "Jockey Club" used to denote a sporty, bracing, male-friendly fragrance in those days. The scent itself was patterened after the prize bouquet awarded to winning jockeys after a horse race, and "Jockey Club" itself synonymous with the upper-class sporting gentleman's lodges of the day.

Caswell-Massey's take on the "Jockey Club" trope was the only one I know of that survived through post-WWII and until the modern day, since most such floral powder bombs had been deemed obsolete by the perfection of perfume chemistry and the fresh fougères or aromatic chypres that men started to prefer, as they were more succinctly masculine. Some more-recent selections like Swank's Royal Copenhagen (1970) would recall this kind of florals-meet-talc feeling, but not quite to this extreme. The smell of heliotrope-heavy powder had been relegated to baby products and bath talc used by old folks by the time fougères began appearing en masse, but somehow this endured when others had perished. In much in the same manner as Penhaligon's Hammam Bouquet (1872) with it's very antiquated rose-heavy construction, this remained a dinosaur walking among us. Jockey Club honestly smells more dated than the even older Caswell-Massey Number Six (1789), but I feel that has more to do with the basic elements in this not carrying over into modern perfumery for men like those in Number Six, which has notes like lemon, pine, and neroli that are still very much in use for men. Jockey Club contrary-wise is quite the period piece with it's heavy use of florals such as iris and ylang-ylang juxtaposed with lilac, heliotrope, carnation, and that heavy talc note. Lime and bergamot opens this but stays most fleeting and is soon replaced by all those delicate flowers that fill the scent's heart, which is then balanced and made masculine with the musk, tonka, and slight sandalwood. There isn't much to really describe beyond that, as this is definitely within the realms of the Victorian-era dandy; but considering it's from pre-Civil War America, I think the closest you'll get to that is the southern gendarme or various mason societies of the north, back when mutton chops were acceptable grooming for men.

Jockey Club is still nonetheless charming for what it is: a fragrance meant to deliver the bracing feeling of being at the horse races, but gentle enough to take a lady out to a dance later that evening at the ball. Purportedly it was the preferred scent of President John F Kennedy (who also liked Number Six as well but to a lesser extent), and made this his signature at functions. Jockey Club had already tipped over the 100 year mark by this time and had much more efficient creations to compete against, so I wonder if JFK liked it simply because of its antiquity? Regardless, if dry flowers, talc, and musk are your thing, then this has you written all over it. If other Jockey Club scents smelled similar in style then I can see why most of them didn't make it, and while I give this my approval, I do so more on originality and quality than being wearable in a modern context. Despite what the packaging says, this one is to be worn only because you want to, as I can't see how something this florid and powdery would ever be acceptable to anyone in any context outside a perfume collector, unless you're at a period reenactment. I enjoy smelling like the past, which is a subjective statement in and of itself, but even I wouldn't take this to work or to the mall with friends. This one's evocation of frocks and waxed mustaches are better left to lazy Sundays where only my roommates have to tolerate my fragrance of choice. I recommend you make the purchase of this similarly personal, or for the sake of history, because you're going to get stares if you take it around outside. As an aside, this was briefly discontinued when Caswell-Massey launched "Heritage" reworkings of all their still-produced men's classics, with alleged superior-quality ingredients. These really ended up being modernization and many fans took offense to that, so Caswell-Massey quickly returned the original "gold cap" versions to production. Thumbs up

This is another barbershop classic in the Canoe and Clubman mold, closer to the former in its talcum meets vanilla aura.