There are some perfumes that, whether I wear them personally or just breathe them from the bottle, strike me as so impeccably conceived and crafted, so full of individuality, that they exist as self-contained works of art.
Although I have never read Michael Edwards’ seminal ‘Perfume Legends’, which details around fifty of the world’s recognized French classics of feminine perfumery, perusing the list of fragrances he includes, it is immediately obvious that all are worthy of the name. Beginning with Guerlain’s Jicky (1889) and ending with Angel by Thierry Mugler (1992), whether you like them personally or not, each of the perfumes that is described is undeniably a monument: realized; idiosyncratic, and fully finished.
Two perfumes that feature in the Edwards book are of course Calèche and Arpège, both of which (in pristine vintage extraits) I keep by my bed as comfort scents; a dab on the skin, or occasionally on the sheets, to pave my way into the night.
Though I only wear one of them outside the house (Calèche), both of these – woody/ floral/chypre aldehydics have that elusive quality in perfumery where the the whole is more than the sum of its parts: something that touches transcendence.
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No perfume comes newly born. All have their revered predecessors, and any compositon based on aldehydes, the classic rose/jasmine/ ylang/iris accord: sandalwood, plus bergamot in the top notes and that musk in the base, draws somewhat predictable comparisons with the inescapable, ubiquitous N° 5. In fact, if you read any other reviews or descriptions of Arpège and Calèche, the aldehydic megalith is constantly used as a reference point.
In all honesty, though, until I did some research, this comparison had not even occurred to my nose at all. I am a very great admirer of the Chanel meisterwerk, for the simple reason that it smells heavenly; even untouchable (but not so its facsimiles: L’Interdit (Givenchy), L’Aimant (Coty), and Detchema (Revillon), which all seem to me to rehash the theme in jealous desperation to no real avail: although I have or have had all the above in parfum concentration at some point I can never truly get worked up about any of them..)
Arpège and Calèche, however, in my view, are entirely different beasts.
Calèche, which means horse-drawn-carriage in French – and is of course the symbol of the house of Hermès- is far more lithe, severe, citric, and masculine than the Chanel (which I shall henceforth stop referring to as it is irrelevant): a Parisian stripling thriving with life: morning avenue branches filtering lime-green sunlight onto the new day below. The air sharp and fresh: the carriage and its horses awaiting: all of those present secure, anticipating; and turned out impeccably. We sense that something is to happen on this brisk spring day that brims with potential…..
A taut, almost mouthpuckering – but somehow serene – lemon, fuses exquisitely with cypress (or Russian pine, according to some sources, increasing the crackwhipping troika motif if you let your imagination run away with you the way I do), over a white matinal soap of roses, jasmine and aldehydes. Neroli, bergamot, and vetiver buffet a rhythmic, almost athletic scent that is delectable and free, yet emotive, well-dressed, and extraordinarily elegant.
The scent confers a sense of calm, yet also of health, and there are certain days when only Calèche will do. Often on Sundays: white shirt – the spruceness of the top notes contrasting with the the woods of the base and the more mysterious and unexpected note of frankincense that adds dryness and spirit, keeping the perfume on the right side, for me, of androgyny. Not far off, in fact, from the beautiful, princely scent that is Signoricci (1965) and its peacock-like, beautiful citrus coniferous bouquet; both romantic, genderless bluebloods whose scents are almost interchangeable.
Lanvin’s Arpège, from the so called ‘Golden Age’ of perfumery, is far more the monogamist, more womanly. It smells so soothing that you feel sure it must have been used as a template for balms and creams over the years, to have reached this appeasing sense of the maternal archetype.
This is not simply because of the design on the box and flacon of a mother and young daughter dressing up for a ball, but because the fruited, sunful warmth is to me like a spiced pear orchard on a beautiful September afternoon, a Keatsian aroma of ‘mellow fruitfulness’ so ripe with sanctuary and goodness.
A gilded, Apollonian jasmine and rose are infused with an unusual note of coriander and softly powdered mimosa; while genet, or broom – which has a softening, hay-like nuance of honey and tobacco – vanilla, and styrax all add extra mellifluousness to the base. If Calèche has the thrill of young leaves, then Arpège is an old oak tree; rooted, wise, and worldly.
Though the name of the perfume suggests otherwise, in the very extraordinarily beautiful vintage parfum there are no rippling arpeggios such as those in a Chopin étude, but more the feeling of beautiful, sad Schubertian chords – it knows. There is a philosophical depth of feeling; of luxuriant sun-stroked interiors, but also the brown autumn mulch in the garden, and the inevitable coming of winter.
I find it almost heartbreaking.
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As for vintage versus new, I can’t, personally, even entertain the latter as possibilities. If you are as versed in the vintages as I am, the remake of Arpège is crass and too shiny: the cellos and violas of a quartet usurped by unwanted, headache-inducing trombones and cornets; the Calèche recognizable but thin, metallic – a shallow, wan, less incisive and somehow bitchier, modern re-representation .
To what extent the emotiveness of these perfumes is to do with personal associations of family I do not know ( I have given both to my mother as Christmas or birthday presents in the past), but if I were really that sentimental I would have similar reactions to her signature perfume, First by Van Cleef & Arpels (which I don’t, as much I as love it); the original Nina by Nina Ricci; or indeed, her favoured No 5.
No, it is more than that. Calèche and Arpège are, to me, like delicate novellas: stories to be told and retold with different lists of characters, in different places and times. Endlessly, or at least as long as these precious vintage supplies last us. Masterpieces of perfumery that should have been preserved, not butchered by the cheapening of their souls with cheaper, more synthetic ingredients.
Because these perfumes, as they were originally intended, are quite exquisite. Warm and soulful, with real poetry. Different, but of similar air and beauty – like two separate rooms in a palace.
The Black Narcissus 
Cheesy as it may sound, this review brought tears to my eyes.
This is so beautifully written. I hope one day to have the pleasure of encountering a perfume that makes me feel the way you do about Calèche and Arpège.
It doesn’t sound cheesy. I am honoured, and was quite emotional myself as I was writing it!
Thank you. Soneone has finally read this post!
I told you I would read it start to end. I’m enjoying your writing immensely.
Hello!
I was looking up Caleche the other day and came across this post and your site, and found it very moving. I have never really worn perfume and not quite known where to start (apart from Chanel no.5, which I’ve hardly worn and some essential oils in skincare products such as Darphin) but on a beautiful spring day last year whilst wandering around the city I went into a department store to try something floral that could match the magic and excitement that I was feeling, and was drawn to the yellow packaging of Caleche knowing nothing about it, and it was exactly the sort of thing I was looking for. I only just remembered it the other day as I was thinking of the packaging and the associated feelings, and imagining glamourous and wonderful things. And so i looked it up. I’ve always done a lot of painting and drawing and have so often been striving for a decoration that is complete and eternal, even in a state of undress, and the temporal quality of perfume, and of these great perfumes (both joyous and sad especially as they are no longer in production as you describe them), has opened up a whole new world to me. And aside from painting, the work of art in general, poetry and music and film and fashion, of wandering about a la Baudelaire. I can’t wait to try some vintage Arpege and Caleche, I’ve been dreaming about it! I now want to try lots of things! I’ve been so enjoying reading your site, in particular your New Romantic post, but keep returning to this, it’s wonderful :).
Thankyou so much, Katherine. I like to write about the new releases as well, but also want to keep it eclectic, describing these old masterpieces as well. Both in fact still are in production but as I wrote, to me they just can’t compare. Caleche is timeless and elegant, with a clarity and purity that touches me emotionally.
I hope you get your hands on some good vintage stuff ( don’t buy sprays as I have found they age quite badly) and I would love to know your reactions.
So are there new releases that are as realised as the old classics? It seems they just don’t make them the same way anymore. I suppose I will have to read some more of your reviews and try for myself.
Thanks I did have a dream last night that I bought some spray stuff and it wasn’t good! I’ve been eyeing up some online and considering parting with a ridiculous proportion of my meagre earnings. Hopefully I can find something authentic and good. I have seen some bath oils advertised as good, or do I just want the extrait or parfum?
Sometimes vintage bath oils can be unbelievably good; it is all a great gamble. I have Caleche in parfum, parfum de toilette and eau de toilette, and they are all good: the sandalwood, vetiver, pine etc is there in different proportions. For me, the parfum in the calfskin box is better than the one in yellow if you can get it..
The whole reformulation issue is a huge thing for perfume lovers, a scandal, a horror…like Invasion Of The Body Snatchers. Your lover is UNRECOGNISABLE to you. Only the shell remains….
Oh dear I fear I may be getting in a little over my head already. As if I needed any more painful desires beyond the mundane, I feel unable to move on until I actually get paid/buy some perfume, and it does seem quite hard to get hold of. To whet my appetite today I went to Liberty to try some, and magically found some vintage bottles upstairs in their vintage clothing section, some Shalimar and L’explosion, and I tried on some of L’explosion and it was so much deeper and more alive than anything they had downstairs in the perfumery.
Actually it was called Explosive by Etienne Aigner..
But mainly it was the difference between the older and new that was SO remarkable
I don’t know Explosion but I am severely versed, fortunately/unfortunately, in the horrors of reformulation vs vintage. I will keep an eye out for you at the flea markets in Tokyo.
Have you read my reviews of Balenciaga Le Dix, Mitsouko, Crepe de Chine, and my story about the flea market? I ADORE the old perfumes, and equally love writing about them and trying to capture them in words….and I
agree that virtually nothing released now even comes close in terms of shadows, poetry, and emotional depth. SMELLS, not perfumes: even the most expensive niche quite a lot of the time.
Oh, and the original Je Reviens review: have you read that one? That perfume does my head in it is so deep….it almost tips you over into the dream world….
Let’s keep talking about it.
and I have just remembered: the other day in an antique shop in Zushi they had a 7ml Caleche parfum for about 45 quid. Not cheap, but I can investigate further and try and find out in what condition it is in if you like. If you love it I think it would be worth it, but not if it is deteriorated.
I am going to intrude here and ask you, if on one of your trips you come across Tabac Blond, and it’s at a fair price, beep me please. I am so wanting a bottle of it now, preferably the parfum, but eau de parfum will do too. I’ll have to go to Tokyo and spend a few days with you hunting vintages. Seems like lots of fun.
Oh it is: but I only usually go to one flea market and on the whole it doesn’t yield. I have been in Japan sixteen years, so we are talking bounty over a LONG period of time. And babe: if I found a really lovely Tabac Blond (which is unlikely, but you never know), I would be hugging it close to my chest I tell you.
When are you next up in Tokyo? I would like to meet up with you. We can tussle and fight over whatever we find and then go for lunch over wine nearby and compare bounty.
Honestly, on the whole they are selling a pile of crap. All the usual suspects. It’s just that sometimes….
Now I have also noticed that in the photos your Arpege bottles have black labels (do you think they’re from the 70s?), I have seen bottles with gold labels, do you have any idea whether those will be ok?
I’m so excited!!!
Ooh I think that sounds like a better deal than any I’ve seen online…I think the cheapest parfum of that size I’ve seen was 60, plus postage, and with no guidance on smell (which as I said I’ve been deliberating on mostly just because I realised I’d better wait til I got paid)…I mean that would be amazing! That would be so so sweet of you!
I must check the smell first but no problem
I don’t know whether to write here or on the other posts but it seems easier here – I can’t believe how much perfume you found at the flea market!! I have been rethinking all the vintage/market haunts that I might have overlooked for perfume, I went to one on Sunday and found nothing, I did think of a shop and rang them yesterday and they do stock some, though weren’t sure which, so will be making a trip there this afternoon, thing is is this a productive use of my time off? I am also struggling with the idea that artistic practices are productive for me right now and this definitely fits in to that category, and the thought of something so apparently niche (though only so because of the way the world is) and lost in the past seems so romantic and unprofitable in this world.
After I read your piece on Leonard Cohen the other night I had to have a chat with my boyfriend because i was feeling so intense, to remember passing moods – this idea of depth – you quoted Mandy aftel about the base notes being like a murky subconscious, and the idea of a restless pained soul, awareness like torture – not that I’ve not had deep thoughts and that before but all of these ideas are DEEP! A fresh realness to me. I had to remind myself that being sensitive to certain things is not always a painful desire-filled melancholic angst, that so many times it can be empowering and free, and very peaceful. Sometimes it seems there’s a lot to be scared of. Have just read your Je Reviens review! And had read your Mitsouko review as I was looking up the Guerlains, having tried them in Liberty and been intrigued. I will comment on them. The thing is that these great perfumes may be so real, and bring about such urgent feelings, yes you describe it as almost being tipped over, it feels all very big.
But all of this without having smelt very much at all says so much about your writing, and if i knew myself less that I were getting carried away, but reading some things and sitting pondering I could feel my eyes darkening and brimming. Also, very awkward to write about, which is why it’s interesting, one never gets the sense of easy virtuosity, which is not to say that there is no virtuosity! I mean that whilst it is honest and must come easily in some senses it also feels in some senses like a new and difficult language.. I mean some of these thoughts as questions, perhaps that is just as they are to me. I went to see A Place In The Sun yesterday with Montgomery Clift, and his eyes also had this crazy depth in, he created a great atmosphere. Sorry this is so long I just don’t know what to write about!
I am sitting in a Japanese izakaya waiting for a friend: reading this has made my chest feel tight and my eyes brim.
You have made my day, whoever you are. My email is opoponax8@hotmail.com.
I adore the way you write: you will be a perfume critic in no time I am sure
On a lighter note, as well as wanting beautiful and moving perfumes I am also looking forward to finding some fun exuberant vintage ones to wear with fun outfits 🙂
I must confess that though I hate looking shit, I am not a fashion person. Where would I find the money with what I spend on scent?
But I understand how important clothes are for most people…. Having said that, I can’t quite imagine being ‘dressed in vintage’ in the way I can being dressed in vintage scent…. The odd scarf or garment threaded in, yes, but
Yes I think my fragrant fashion story would be something like this, and also what I mean about worrying about being productive with my time! It’s a bit sad really… http://m.youtube.com/#/watch?v=Hn6xdAfcGQo&desktop_uri=%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DHn6xdAfcGQo&gl=GB
Oh woah! I was writing the last before I saw your response..
Well I would like to dress better, but I can’t say I’m particularly well turned out most of the time either…and I can see more worth in being inspired fashion-wise than actually spending lots, of feeling lifted out of the everyday. But then perhaps I’m guilty of retreating into some sort of fashion fantasy land in my head sometimes! A distraction.. I often buy the wrong things anyway that don’t go with anything and it’s a complete waste of time and money. I spend more on skincare, which I hate doing, maybe this new area of expenditure will force me to stop!
I just wrote this long thing on the train on my phone which somehow did not compute..
the essence of which was: take everything i write with a pinch of salt, but know that it is all meant completely heartfelt: It is possible that I occasionally get absorbed in the language itself, and that becomes the main focus, with the perfume the muse, but it is always real from where I am coming from else it would be pointless.
You have to read other perfume lovers’ opinions, then plonk down the cash as you feel fit, but I can feel that you are really instinctively drawn to the beauty that exists in this form of expression, and I urge you to follow it further, to its logical course….what harm can come of it? It is nothing but pleasure (and disappointment).
I reckon I am going to the fleamarket on Sunday. It has been a while.
I will report back.
and by the way: Kath meet Cath and vice versa. Wish I knew more about you. but then again I don’t : I quite like it this way.
Hello Cath!
This is I think the first time I’ve had an online conversation with someone I don’t know.. Ha, yes i know what you mean, a sense of mystery! But then I suppose I do know more from what you’ve written about yourself. How generous you are, you must be a really great english teacher 🙂 (must stop using emoticons).
Hello Katherine,
What a beautiful name you have 😀
I am used to online conversations with people I only know from the virtual world. I have better conversations with some of these lovely people than with people I actually meet in real life. Hmmm, maybe that means I’m surrounded by not very stimulating people? I must bring change to that, but where oh where are all these intellectual marvels that can stimulate my mind?
Yes I guess that is the wonder of the internet! I’m so happy that i followed a line of thought and ended up here, it’s really special. I went to another market today to look for perfume but it was a London market, where everything has been sold off and there are no stones to unturn, and so I realised I was glad I didn’t find any. I think I would like to leave this city and this country!
Oh and the shop I just went to was rubbish, some old cheap stuff, more curiosities I suppose…
Reblogged this on The Black Narcissus.
Neil, as a perfume collector for many decades, I am lucky to still have vintage bottles of both Arpege and Caleche in parfum form. Both are still wearable despite their ages. Like you, I do not wear Arpege outside–mostly because the bottle of parfum is all that I have in the Arpege. However, I have several bottles of Caleche in Eau de Toilette and Soie de Parfum and still wear the Caleche edt. I love your descriptions and look forward to reading all your blogs.
Very kind of you to say so. I think I do wax most convincingly lyrical about the true classics…it comes to me more easily.
Thank you for those beautiful thoughts conveyed in such beautiful language about two of my very favorite perfumes. Very few people could do them justice, but you have. You have described perfectly that indescribable something about them that makes them treasures. I’d rather have those two than all the No. 5 in the world.
Me too. And I think it wasn’t easy to try and encapsulate such beauties in words. I tried anyway, as I adore them both absolutely.
Neil, you make me want to travel back in time to smell both of these perfumes. I would like to carry a copy of this so I can sniff each one and re read what you smell, and what you feel. Again, beautiful, and emotionally touching prose. Thank you.
I am very glad you like this post. I just suddenly felt like reposting it as I put a lot of time into this one and it didn’t get much attention last time, yet these two perfumes deserve the full portraiture.
Gorgeous prose! You inspire me to skip over to eBay and see what I can find! I have a mini Arpege, modern I’m sure, and it’s good. But I can tell is isn’t what it has been.
Questions:
1. How well-preserved do you think your lovely vintage extraits are? I have had terrible luck with vintage perfumes, but have not yet completely given up.
2. How do you think the current formulations differ from the versions you have?
How preserved are they? Well I have had several bottles, and you just KNOW, when there is that fullness and integrity from top to bottom. In vintage both of these are sheer poetry in my view. The current versions are fine, but hollowed out Russian sex dolls in comparison.
I have certain formulations where I suffer through certain stages; pristine, perfect Caleche is almost transparent initially in that impeccable pine goes to flowers heart, so utterly beautiful……pristine Arpege just has this…..glow.
Dearest Ginza
Such pitch perfect reviews, or perhaps reflections would be more precise, for they are so much about your experience of the scents, which ultimately is what matters above and beyond all else.
On Caleche, I agree with your assessment completely: ‘lithe, severe, citric’, did you know it was Princess Anne’s signature scent? Somehow that royal with her bloody minded sense of independence, her athleticism and always out of synch fashions sits easily with my view of this elegant but wayward spirited perfume.
Arpege though, which I have reviewed too, I see more as the daughter than the mother, slightly discordant in her piano practice, wilful but growing into something quite beautiful.
Perhaps it is because I have only ever tried (older) versions of the EdT, perhaps is is because great perfumes contain mothers and children and cousins and aunts… whole families of different personae to be discovered by different wearers.
Splendid essays on very special fragrances.
Thank you.
Yours ever
The Perfumed Dandy
I like the idea of Arpege being the daughter, actually. This opens up new vistas for me, Mr.
And thanks.
“Russian sex dolls”. I do so love a giggle in the afternoon. I’m pretty sure they’re called Russian Nesting Dolls, Neils. That was pretty funny. An office mate come by and poked his head in to see what i was laughing about; “are you watching porn?” The perfume lust is strictly Clandestine. At least at work. I am wearing under my dress shirt, Arpege eau de parfum. It’s a newer version, super chypre, woddsy, balsamic. Nothing to do with the Vintage, which I love, but really interesting…It’s as hot as the 9th circle of Hell in FL today so I keep spritzing 4711 on EVERYTHING! Loved the rythms of your write-up here
Thanks, this is a beautiful review of Calèche and Arpège, capturing their essences and why one continues to love them for a long time. Always.
Actually this is one of my favorites of the reviews I have done as for once I feel that I do, as you said, actually almost capture their essences. They are such perfect perfumes they deserved a carefully thought out treatment in words.
Thanks for the herb teas by the way xx
I can’t remember Caleche very well, but some years back I bought a used tester of Arpege which I love. It may well be inferior to the original, but your description of the original really captured my own experience – even of the reformulation. Thank you so much for the exquisite prose, it truly got to the poetic heart of this scent.
Thank you for saying so. I adore both these perfumes.
Wow, you really articulated the feelings that I get when I think about my collection of beloved vintages. The reality is that all will disappear from ebay, antiques shops, thrift stores and flea markets one day and I will not be able to replace what I have if I use it up. The dilemma is that if I’m save them, so as not to use them up too fast, it won’t help as they are constantly evaporating slowly over time, no matter how tight the cap or stopper is on the bottle. So I also feel that I should try to enjoy every drop before they vanish into the air. Oh, my few precious drops of Djedi, vintage Lanvin Rumeur and Scandal…what can do? When I think of this fleeting beauty it breaks my heart and I know that I have to wear and experience them for as long as they last because that’s what the original perfumer/artist would have wanted me to do…enjoy their work.
My sentiments entirely. I suppose living in Japan I sometimes have the illusion that the vintage bounty is endless…..but of course it isn’t. It is also difficult to find a really good batch/specimen of one particular vintage perfume as well. I have had several Caleches, but only one was perfect, with all the notes intact. The same goes for Arpege.
Talking of Lanvin, I have a parfum of My Sin, but can never quite get my head around it. Do you know it?
I bought a vintage bottle of Caleche 2 weeks ago because of this review. I put some on this morning (in my defense) because of the gray, cold morning that is the upper Midwest of the US. It immediately took me to the long awaited spring day where everything gets green at once. This is a phenomenon that Southerners (as I was) have never experienced. You go to bed with trees bare, but showing the inclination to burst into leaf, and when you wake up, the morning light has changed. It becomes a liquid green-gold because….every tree and shrub woke up at the same time. The opening moments of Caleche remind me of this time that occurs each spring. I never realized how difficult it is to describe a fragrance, much less make it visual and tangible in that description. I truly admire your ability to make it real and accessible with your words, your prose, your poetry. The drydown of this lovely, lovely fragrance is like a hug- a warm, caring familial hug- not hearty, but soft, maternal(?) and safe.
So now- the hunt for the suite mate- Arpege.
Thanks for the compliment (and how beautiful your own descriptions are of that spring light and the feeling evoked in vintage Caleche).
This review was one of those ones that take me longer to accomplish. Readers of this blog will know that I am impulsive and sometimes write things completely off the cuff and then just post, and I like doing that, but I also like the more deliberated ones as well because the perfumes merit the full portrait. My aim ultimately is to try as hard as I can to recreate a perfume in words or atmospheres; the challenge of trying to put an abstract smell into words is hugely enjoyable for me, and though I say it myself, with this one I feel I kind of got there. Perhaps it is because I love these two perfumes so much.
Never in spray, though. Only in a well preserved boxed extrait whenever possible.
Awhile ago I ran out of superlatives for your writing, Neil, but if I had any unused ones I’d give them to this.
I have vintage Arpège, bottles and bottles, in various concentrations, in various conditions — amazing the bottle variation, either with formulations or conditions of prior storage; some are golden, ripe, sunlit, others are more shadowed, sultry but never brooding — and my favourite is an EdP in a tall black bakelite bottle with gold. It somehow manages to be both sunlit and shadowed. Confession: I’d rather have them all be My Sin, and have my smaller stash of My Sin be Arpège. Like an addict chasing that first orgasmic high, My Sin is my drug of choice among Lanvins. I have Crescendo in extrait, but that tougher spiced amber-carnation combination isn’t so much my thing.
I have a few mls of vintage Calèche parfum from a friend’s bottle — oh, would I love an ounce — and a 6.5 ounce bottle of EdT bottled in 1982 that’s more than 3/4s full. You, Sundays, white shirt: check, check and check.
One of my favourite bits out of this page is this from you in the comments:
“. . . the essence of which was: take everything i write with a pinch of salt, but know that it is all meant completely heartfelt: It is possible that I occasionally get absorbed in the language itself, and that becomes the main focus, with the perfume the muse, but it is always real from where I am coming from else it would be pointless.” I LOVE this insight from an especially insightful, self-aware human being.
I take it you’re conscious enough at this point to hit a few keys on your laptop. That is good. I have thought of you and your knees today, hoping all went well. Let us know when you can, because I’m sure I’m not the only friend who has been thinking of you and wishing you the best.
Thanks a lot.
I thought this would be a nice post just to leave up while I am under…
These two really are heavenly perfumes…x
Are you post-op (right now) and alive to tell the tale (eventually)??? I can’t believe how nice it is to hear from you.
No no: just on our way to hospital!
Oh, my gosh then, you will both be in my thoughts. If you’re too bleary to write to us, I hope Duncan can let us known you’re through it and doing fine, new knees and all. xoxo
I hope your surgery is already behind you and you are feeling well enough to write. If it hasn’t happened yet, I will repeat that I am sending you good vibes for a successful surgery and a speedy recovery. I was going to write a response to this post although I felt like I already once did, so I scrolled down to the responses and sure enough there I was. And once I read it again, I realized that I would have probably written the same thing with perhaps a word or two changed. Reading your post again makes me feel like going to bed with a few drops of Arpege perfume on my sheets while ensconced in a veil of Caleche.
Sending you best wishes for the surgery and recovery! I wore Calèche extrait back in the ’80s, it was gorgeous. After its subsequent “lifting-bronzage-amincissement” as Luca Turin puts it, it has become very thin, but you can still see the elegant bone structure.
I agree: it’s better than nothing!
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