I've always had the strongest aversion to fruit notes in perfume. I still do, to an extent. Let's face it: Most fruity fragrances smell either cloyingly punchy or horribly cheap. Or both. And I have the skin chemistry to bring out the worst in these scents and make them last forever.
Daim Blond, a 2004 Serge Lutens creation from the export line, has one of the boldest fruit notes I can think of in high-end perfumery. Apricot. Or apricot jam. It's not your grandma's confiture, though. There's a spicy cardamon note in it, like those fancy sophisticated apricot preserve you'd buy at an exquisitely decorated deli, where you can also buy chocolate with sea salt and chili pepper and mango-papaya balsamic vinegar. That was my way of saying that the apricot in Daim Blond smells good and unlike anything you'd find at those atrocious Yankee Candle stores.
But Daim Blond isn't really a fruity perfume. The story here is the suede note. Serge Lutens might have wanted to evoke a whitish suede, but as far as I'm concerned it could have been a caramel, amber or tobacco colored suede just as well. It's soft, buttery and sensual no matter what color it takes, and because of the rich fruity note, it actually feels to me a bit darker.
Now, Daim Blond usually works better on my husband and he's the one who owns the bottle. His skin tones down the sweetness and brings out more of the spice and suede, making it quite masculine and elegant. On me, it can sometimes be too much, depending on the day and weather (I absolutely can't wear it on warm, sunny days). Sometimes the opening is a bit medicinal and bitter, other times there's a weird cherry thing going on (blame it on the heliotrope) that intensifies the fruity aspect to the point I'm not happy wearing it. But on my lucky days I get a craving, knowing that it would be right. On those days, Daim Blond is all about skin and sensuality and has an addictive quality. While the strong sillage fades after a couple of hours, the drydown is nearly eternal. It's one of those perfumes that make me sniff my wrist a hundred times a day, just so I can admire myself. Utterly indulgent and very satisfying, even if it only happens a handful of times each year.
Daim Blond is available from all the usual suspects who sell Serge Lutens perfumes offline and online: Aedes (NYC, my preferred Serge source), Scent Bar (L.A.), BeautyHabit.com, Barneys, Bergdorf and several others. In the UK you can find it at Selfridge's, and if you're lucky enough to live in Paris, you don't need me to tell you that even Sephora carries Serge Lutens.
Art: Timeless Moment by Michael Flohr, Vinings Gallery
Daim Blond ad: www.punmiris.com
Daim Blond, a 2004 Serge Lutens creation from the export line, has one of the boldest fruit notes I can think of in high-end perfumery. Apricot. Or apricot jam. It's not your grandma's confiture, though. There's a spicy cardamon note in it, like those fancy sophisticated apricot preserve you'd buy at an exquisitely decorated deli, where you can also buy chocolate with sea salt and chili pepper and mango-papaya balsamic vinegar. That was my way of saying that the apricot in Daim Blond smells good and unlike anything you'd find at those atrocious Yankee Candle stores.
But Daim Blond isn't really a fruity perfume. The story here is the suede note. Serge Lutens might have wanted to evoke a whitish suede, but as far as I'm concerned it could have been a caramel, amber or tobacco colored suede just as well. It's soft, buttery and sensual no matter what color it takes, and because of the rich fruity note, it actually feels to me a bit darker.
Now, Daim Blond usually works better on my husband and he's the one who owns the bottle. His skin tones down the sweetness and brings out more of the spice and suede, making it quite masculine and elegant. On me, it can sometimes be too much, depending on the day and weather (I absolutely can't wear it on warm, sunny days). Sometimes the opening is a bit medicinal and bitter, other times there's a weird cherry thing going on (blame it on the heliotrope) that intensifies the fruity aspect to the point I'm not happy wearing it. But on my lucky days I get a craving, knowing that it would be right. On those days, Daim Blond is all about skin and sensuality and has an addictive quality. While the strong sillage fades after a couple of hours, the drydown is nearly eternal. It's one of those perfumes that make me sniff my wrist a hundred times a day, just so I can admire myself. Utterly indulgent and very satisfying, even if it only happens a handful of times each year.
Daim Blond is available from all the usual suspects who sell Serge Lutens perfumes offline and online: Aedes (NYC, my preferred Serge source), Scent Bar (L.A.), BeautyHabit.com, Barneys, Bergdorf and several others. In the UK you can find it at Selfridge's, and if you're lucky enough to live in Paris, you don't need me to tell you that even Sephora carries Serge Lutens.
Art: Timeless Moment by Michael Flohr, Vinings Gallery
Daim Blond ad: www.punmiris.com
No comments:
Post a Comment