Royal Bain de Caron / Royal Bain de Champagne
Caron (1941)

This is a really interesting smell, clearly classic, with a nuanced mix of elements I really haven't experienced together before.

There's a sweet, spiced civet musk that supports everything - it reminds me of Shalimar, but with all the spices though not the vanilla. There's a Mitsouko-esque doughy note mixed with a rubbery eraser smell, which combine to create something almost leathery. Then there's the "champagne" accord, which smells to me like green grape juice with plasticky aldehydes used in a clever way that simulates vodka. And, to top it all off, there are quiet powdery flowers under everything because why not?

In total, all of this creates a mix I'd call leathery, poopy, and "perfumey". It's a bit gross (I guess it's a throwback to a very different time that people would literally bathe in something so fecal), but fun to wear. I can see how the complexity here fits in with the art deco style popular at at the time. Thumbs up!

Royal Bain de Champagne is said to be a commission for a millionaire who liked to bathe in champagne.

Which recalls the story of l'Interdit, the personal perfume of Audrey Hepburn.
It remained hers for some time but was eventually put on the market when her friend de Hubert Givenchy got hard up for cash.

Any self respecting tycoon with a sur mesure perfume would surely demand exclusivity, and this might explain why Fragrantica put the release date at 1923. That would allow the bathing millionaire eighteen years, before Caron took back control and released it to those ordinary folk who like to swig their champagne and not pour it down the plug hole.

1923 is an interesting year. That was a decade before Sécret de Venus, the first bath oil that I know of, and it was long before Youth-Dew, originally sold as a bath oil in 1953. Of course, we don't know what that particular Bain de Champagne was like - if it was oil or alcohol based - but the fact it was meant to be diluted in the bath made it something of a pioneer. (The Romans and their olive oil ablutions notwithstanding...)

But, getting back to old Bain de Champagne, there's a retro feel to this - a hint of rubber - a bit like you find in l'Emeraude (1921) and Knize Ten (1924). It's subtle but persistent, and sits under dry lilac - with its terpenic facet - which is a bit like the old fashioned scouring powders (Vim, Ajax etc) which were used for scrubbing the grime out of enamel baths, amongst other things.

In so much as this 1) smells a bit like champagne, and 2) conjures up the kind of spotless bathroom and claw foot tub you might find in a museum of luxury hygiene, this is a finely executed brief; in other words, it does exactly what it says on the tin.

The dry, salubrious smell of white bathroom, with its old fashioned floral of rose, violet and lilac, brings to mind bath salts; which is one theme Daltroff appears to have mined.

The other one is the more obvious one; a fruity and pale toned, pear-apple-grape 'champagne' accord, which takes centre ground.

The other element is a Dry sweet Amber, perked up with incense and opoponax, which add to the textured frisson that runs from top to bottom.

To sum up, Royal Bain de Champagne is rosy-violet, terpenes, tree fruits and a powdery texture more fizzy than bubbly.

Even if the structure is basic - a floral top and a base of Amber (like Pour un Homme de Caron) - the layered accords and growing textures are anything but simple.

Caron Royal Bain de Champagne/Royal Bain de Caron (1941) has an interesting story behind it, as an early unisex fragrance made "for the bath" by Caron to be used as part of good grooming and hygiene, but there's far more to its history than that. The original product was commissioned privately in 1923 for millionaire William Randolf Hearst to replace real champagne in his extravagant baths, and designed to have a slightly boozy fruity smell that was reminiscent of the real deal, named "Bain de Champagne" and in the peculiar concentration of "eau parfumée pour le bain". From there, the stuff gradually made the transition to public sale in 1928 as an eau de toilette because Caron had to dilute the formula and manufacture in bulk to justify the overhead (one of the reasons most classic houses do not offer private custom scents anymore), and it became "Royal Bain de Champagne" in 1941, with old adverts reading: "Before the bath. During the bath. After the bath. Royal Bain de Champagne is for everyone to enjoy at any time". Things remained like this for over 50 years, with the scent becoming something of a bath time tradition and gifted at weddings, housewarming parties, baby showers, and the like, until the 1993 legal spat with Yves Saint Laurent and the city of Champagne in France over the YSL perfume of the same name led to Caron preemptively changing the name of their old Royal Bain de Champagne yet again to Royal Bain de Caron. This scent is mostly available in splashes due to the bottle type, but comes in some insane sizes for not a lot of money, yet isn't weak like a traditional eau de cologne.

Regardless of the name, the scent has more or less remained consistent beyond what forced reformulations have changed over the years, and you're getting a light fruity sweet floral oriental with boozy overtones and an ambery finish. The opening of Royal Bain de Caron starts off like many older Carons, full of notes that blur together to make a creamy floral sweetness that rides atop vintage-style musks much like Narcisse Noir (1911) or Nuit de Noël (1922). Bergamot, lilac, violet, rose, lavender, sage, and gardenia all come out in this voluptuous top, straddling the lines between femme fatale and dandy monsieur in the arrangement of flowers. The heart of benzoin, nitro musks, opoponax, frankincense, vanilla, and rosewood set up an aromatic richness that merges all the florals to the oriental woody amber base with the sweetness of vanilla and powdery smell of the unburnt incense. Things settle on skin after 30 minutes with sandalwood, cedar, and a smooth amber inflected with a boozy "champagne" note that I cannot describe. Royal Bain de Caron is surprisingly "dirty" for a bath-oriented smell thanks to all the rich earthy musky elements of the composition, but it is very inviting and cozy. Smell-wise, this stuff tries to approach the utilitarianism of Pinaud Lilac Vegetal (1880) and universal appeal of 4711 Echt Kölnisch Wasser by Wilhelm Muelhens (1792), but adding that very specific "blocky" sort of redolence Caron has which stands in stark contrast to the infinitely-filigreed and blended style Guerlain utilized in the same period. This is a scent out of time, so use whenever you'd enjoy it, but be mindful of Royal Bain de Caron in high heat where it could swelter terribly. Projection and sillage are moderate but longevity goes past eight hours, so this is all around adequate for day use if you wanted it for that. Lovers of the Caron style will definitely appreciate the vibe of Royal Bain de Caron, and the kitschy champagne bottle is fun to display and store.

All told, Royal Bain de Caron is one of the more unique entries in the classic Caron canon in terms of theme. What's more fun, is the fact that the perfume was more the work of assistant Michel Morsetti than house founder Ernest Daltroff, although in 1923 Daltroff was responsible for the original formula given to William Randolf Hearst. Those who know their Caron lore know that Daltroff fled France to avoid persecution of the Jews by Nazi Germany in 1939, leaving muse and creative director (plus suspected lover) Félicie Wanpouille behind with Michael Morsetti promoted to master perfumer. One of the first things Morsetti did was to re-orchestrate Bain de Caron for its re-release as "Royal Bain de Caron" in 1941 (the year of Daltroff's death), making it his own. Funny thing is we look back on that now fondly, but when modern perfumers completely change a formula to suit their own design, perfume fans scream in rage, just ask the average collector what they think of François Demachy and all his multitudinous changes to the Dior Homme (2005) line and flankers over the years since he took over as perfumer, and most of those had nothing to do with IFRA regulations. In conclusion, the question needing to be asked here is would something like this still seem appropriate alongside the bath? Well, most of us shower in-and-out with an array of shower gels and shampoos so probably not, but if you make time to stop and sniff this "champagne", you'll find that you don't always need "freshness" for a perfume to be refreshing. If you're a fan of classic dressed-up oriental ambers anyone can wear, this is one of the best values around. Thumbs up.

This is for the vintage version. This has to be one of the best frags ever made! A huge powdery, floral, spicy scent that envelopes and caresses you for hours.
I swear this has a huge honeydew melon note, even if it's not mentioned in the notes. Luca Turin was right, this is Fred Astaire in a bottle.

The 1941 version:
The opening notes include a mix of floral (lilac and rose) with a musk foundation - a bit surprising as musk is usually used in the later stages of a fragrance,s development. The rose is darker and merged seamlessly with the violet impression; the latter being resinous and dark-ish but without any harshness. Interestingly, a bit later I get whiffs a soft mossy touch that cast and additional shadowy feeling over the whole.

Further into the drydown there is more emphasis on the floral side, mainly due to the addition of jasmine, whilst in the base additional sweetness of a vanilla leads to a soft and sweet fare-well. Moments of soapiness and whiffs of powdery moments come and go.

I get moderate sillage, adequate projection and seven hours of longevity on my skin.

A delightful blend for spring evenings, soft, sweet - especially in the base - and blended from top-quality ingredients. 3.75/5.

I'm reviewing the splash version, which is dirt cheap, widely accessible, and to be honest, maybe something Caron should do more of now that it's under new management as of late 2018 because all of the above makes this scent super appealing and a quick easy buy.

A creamy, fizzy powdery bomb flirting the line between barbershop cream (or bath additive as it's often implied to be in splash form) and pseudo-oriental. There is some resinous incense here among it's frothy lilac bubble-bath persona but ultimately, combined with the plush musky vanilla, cedar, and sandalwood base of people's dreams, it's more sweet than sultry. Think marshmallows. Or Ginger Rodgers at her most screwball versus a Rita Hayworth type.

While the profile here states it debuted in the 1940s this has supposedly been around in one form or another since the 20s and I can see that in it's appeal.
I can also see the comparison to Shalimar or Habit Rouge from Guerlain, but their construction and sweetness as I know them today is more crystalline, if not haughty in comparison.

While it does seem to fade and temper I find it occasionally blossoms on and off through the day for a very long time, surprising you all over again. "Oh wait something smells good! Oh it's me!"

Simultaneously somehow a skin-scent and a sillage bomb so as others have noted; don't over apply.