Serge Lutens Five O'Clock Au Gingembre

I wonder how things would have turned had Serge Lutens released Five O'Clock Au Gingembre in 1998 and not 2008. I have a feeling this spicy oriental tea scent (orientea?) would have been accept with a lot more enthusiasm ten years and twenty or so perfumes ago.

I think of Five O'Clock Au Gingembre as the civilized version of Arabie (which I absolutely cannot stand). In Arabie, Serge Lutens and his prophet, Christopher Sheldrake, take you by the hand touring the back alleys of an Arabian souk. You walk the narrow streets, see and touch everything- from the sublime to the grime. Your exotic tour in Gingembre is done aboard the Orient Express. You see the sights from afar and the smells get mixed with the ones of your train car. The butler brings in your tea and cookies on a silver tray, there's an endless supply of starched linens, hot water and various delicacies.

The sharp ginger note in the opening is the only part of which I'm a bit iffy. Ginger tends to do that. I love it in ELdO Like This (and in my food), but usually it's not my favorite perfumery trick. Here the top notes are quite astringent for a brief second before the familiar Lutens magic appears with its cinnamon, honey, cookies and dark chocolate. There's something reminiscent of both Rousse and Feminite de Bois, but the black smoky tea takes the perfume in a different direction and gives it its own special character.

Five O'Clock Au Gingembre has an understated elegance. It's not quite in your face as several of the classic Lutens perfumes, which might be why some were so disappointed upon its release. I'm grateful they held back the cumin and instead explored a kinder route.

Five O'Clock Au Gingembre ($120, 50ml EDP) is available everywhere they sell the Serge Lutens export line- Bergdorf, Barneys, Aedes,Luckyscent and others.

Serge Lutens- Bas de Soie

Poor Uncle Serge. His 1994 Iris Silver Mist is such an iconic masterpiece, anything else he releases that's even remotely iris-related is destined to be found lacking. Add to that the collective kvetching of the perfume community following the previous Serge Lutens export perfume, L'Eau, and you get the air of discontent that prevailed even before the first blogger sprayed a sample of the new scent on skin. But it's very unfair to compare this year's Bas de Soie to the cold and transcendent Lutens/Roucel ISM. They do not play the same field.

Where Iris Silver Mist is otherworldly, cold and ambiguous, Bas de Soie is corporeal, tangible and very much alive. The name means silk stockings which is quite befitting. There's a luxurious smoothness here and something retro in this perfume- not in a dated way at all, but in the image the warm dry iris powder conjures. Maybe it's the hyacinth, a note that can make just about any perfume beautiful. Its role here is not as romantic as it is in Chamade or Grand Amour: instead the hyacinth provides a thread of lightness and color and prevents the iris from becoming too dusty. This aspect is more obvious to me when skin temperature rises, while on a cold afternoon I get more powder and a cashmere-like sensation.

If you're familiar with the two MPG iris perfumes- Iris Bleu Gris and its feminine counterpart Fleur d'Iris- you know the two are hardly related to each other.In fact, the candied violet of Fleur d'Iris is quite disappointing compared to the muted beauty of the masculine-labeled Iris Bleu Gris. Bas de Soie is what I hoped Fleur d'Iris would be. A softer and more sensual variation on the dry and bitter iris theme. I don't consider it super-feminine, just easier to wear for women who don't like austerity in their perfume. Me? I love it all and have been wearing Bas de Soie at every opportunity since acquiring the bottle.

Bas de Soie ($120, 1.7 oz EDP) is part of Serge Lutens export range and can be found at all the authorized dealers- Aedes, Luckyscent, Barneys, etc. As of two weeks ago Bergdorf Goodman hasn't received it yet, but they are usually a little behind Barneys when it comes to new Lutens releases.

Photo from 0rchid_thief on Live Journal

Heresy? Layering Serge Lutens Perfumes

Perfume lovers can be split into two categories: those who layer and those who don't. Even among the first group, sometimes the idea of wearing together two (or more!) complex and statement-making perfumes can be regarded as both crazy, tasteless or being disrespectful to the perfumer and his vision. In the case of Serge Lutens, it's usually all of the above. But somehow, despite the fear of the Palais Royal and its wrath, there are quite a few of us that dare to experiment.

It might have begun for some by using a drop or two of Muscs Kublai Khan to add depth and raunchiness to some more innocent perfumes. It makes sense, after all, right? Then came other perfectly reasonable ideas- Un Bois Vanille in its sweet and creamy glory can lift up dry woods that some women find too masculine and add depth to citrus scents. I've been using one spray of UBV when wearing Annick Goutal's Eau d'Hadrien.

Next- Ambre Sultan. Adding an amber base to florals, especially roses, works beautifully. Just like Tom Ford's Amber Absolute that layers beautifully with his Noir de Noir, one can do the same with Ambre Sultan and Sa Majeste La Rose. And Clair de Musc is the perfect clean musk base that works with just about everything...

Once you start layering and realize that Uncle Serge isn't going to come after you and confiscate your bell jars it's hard to stop. Yes, for the most part Lutens perfumes are round, complex and full of their individual personalities. But there's something about them that allows these scents to coexist and play well together. There's a special magic and satisfaction when you find a pairing that works for you, so why not?

Here are some of my favorite combination:

Rousse+Louve+Clair de Musc (one spray each)
Un Bois Vanille+Fleurs d'Oranger
Ambre Sultan+Rousse
Fleurs de Citronnier+Clair de Musc
Rousse+Cuir Mauresque
Santal Blanc+Nuit de Cellophane

Do you layer your perfumes? Please feel free to add your suggestions.

Photo of Serge Lutens: luxuryculture.com

Serge Lutens- Sa Majeste La Rose

It doesn't get any rosier than Serge Lutens' Sa Majeste La Rose. This perfume is a round, full and dewy rose. It feels ripe and so realistic you can almost touch and even taste the flower, which has an optimistic and unexpected honeyed apple note. As far as rose soliflores go, Uncle Serge (and Christopher Sheldrake, his apostle) might have created the perfect scent here. My problem is that I don't get along with so much rose- it becomes too sour on my skin and loses most of the other notes in the process.

But on good chemistry days I actually get more from Sa Majeste La Rose, including a hint of wood and a very musky drydown that makes it a lot sexier than I ever expected. I wish it would develop like this every single time, instead of forcing me to layer this rose with other Serge Lutens perfumes to ward off the sourness. Not that layering Sa Majeste is not fun. Actually, sometimes it seems this scent was meant just for that. I've gone through countless of samples just experimenting and enjoying how nicely it plays with almost every other Lutens (just avoid Borneo. That combination was a disaster). Ambre Sultan is an obvious choice, but other good combinations include Un Bois Vanille, Fleurs d'Oranger, Miel de Bois (if you dare) and Clair de Musc. Separately.

Sa Majeste La Rose ($120, 50 ml) is available from all the usual suspects that sell Serge Luten's export range. My samples came with various other purchases, mostly from Aedes.

Photo: Into A Sea Of Dew by MissyV110 on flickr

Serge Lutens- Where Does He Go From Here?

The perfume industry isn't what it used to be. We've known it for a while, years actually. Some optimistic but severely misguided souls tried to comfort themselves that while the big names, traditional houses and huge designer brands are all about the money and thus happy to comply with both IFRA and their CFOs and discontinue scents left and right, we will always have niche.

But niche houses, big and small, have their own bottom line to consider. Gobin-Daude disappeared into the ether, the exact status of Maitre Parfumeur et Gantier remains unclear, but they haven't updated their website in a couple of years and their NYC retailers only have a handful of bottles still remaining (if any). They haven't received a new shipment in ages. Other great brands have been phasing out perfumes left and right. Tom Ford said from the very beginning that the Private Blend line will change over time. Underperformers will be replaced with other scents. Sadly, the first victims of the policy have already been announced (Bois Rouge, Moss Breches, Purple Patchouli and Velvet Gardenia. All of them deserved a better fate). JAR had to stop producing the magnificent Shadow, most likely because of IFRA's oakmoss restriction. Annick Goutal had to reformulate the classic Eau d'Hadrien because, apparently, citrus oil is a weapon of mass destruction. But the worst news yet broke yesterday when Elena of Perfume Shrine posted about Serge Lutens sending four of his fragrances to the big Palais Royal in the sky.

This is a first for Serge Lutens and has shocked and devastated many fans, me included. Uncle Serge has been honest and upfront (well, as much as his Holy Crypticness can be) about the reformulation issue. It's no secret that the new version of Feminite de Bois isn't the same as the old Shiseido one. The same goes for Chergui. There were persistent rumours about the future of Miel de Bois after it was pulled from the export range and placed in the more exclusive bell jar. Between the scent's lack of popularity and an issue with the raw materials being placed on IFRA's black list, MdB was doomed. But no one saw the other ones coming: the relatively new (though admittedly not the biggest seller) Chypre Rouge and the two classics Douce Amere and Clair de Musc. The latter is especially surprising as Clair de Musc was considered by many a Serge for beginners and a layering essential. It really seemed like it was selling relatively well. Obviously, not well enough.

The axing of the four perfumes was not the only disquieting news from the Salons du Palais Royal Shiseido. The most recent release, L'Eau Serge Lutens, had many of Uncle Serge's biggest fans scratching our heads. It was not just an "anti perfume". It was an "anti Serge", "anti Lutenade" and anti everything we've ever expected to emerge from the famed purple halls. Speculations were aplenty. From Papa Serge always doing the unexpected to simply selling out. Since Elena's review was as favorable as it was insightful, I was ready to believe it was his way of telling the world "You wanted clean? Here, let me show you how to do it right". Sort of flipping the bird in his very refined and ironic way.

But the latest news seem to be pointing to another, sadder direction. Have the Powers That Be at Shiseido, Uncle Serge's financial backer, started to put their foot down? Did they tell him to start making money, or else? Did they tell him that any new release must have a mass market appeal and smell shower fresh?

This is nothing but speculation of course, but my guess is that dear Uncle Serge is not going to have his art be dictated by bureaucrats and bean counters. As Elena has mentioned, he has hinted in the past that might go do something completely different. We've always known that perfume is not his be all and end all and he can always have Chris Sheldrake whip for him a special batch of extra strength MKK. It's us who are losing here big time and might be left with nothing but this.

Photos of Uncle Serge: luxuryculture.com

Serge Lutens- Un Bois Sepia

Un Bois Sepia is an odd one in Serge Lutens (sort of) exclusive/non-export* collection. Supposedly part of the Bois series, the spawn of Feminite du Bois, which are all variations on the original fruity-cedar theme, but I can't find an official confirmation for that (the official Serge Lutens website has gone from bad to worse). If my nose is to be believed, Un Bois Sepia is not more a part of the Bois series than Un Bois Vanille or Miel de Bois. It's quite different than anything else in that group and doesn't seem to find its place among the other Lutens creations, either.

Now, as far as I understand, Un Bois Sepia was reformulated approximately two years ago. I think it used to be darker and might have had a touch of moss somewhere in its green structure. I have a travel size atomizer (15 ml?) which I got at Bergdorf Goodman with my full bottle of Bois et Fruits a couple of years ago. This is the newer juice which feels a bit weak and has a more generic green opening.

The top notes make Un Bois Sepia appear like a somewhat classic male cologne. Something green, sheer vetiver, wood and just a little dirt, which on a bad day doesn't agree with my skin. It's the patchouli, I think, which is different than the rich chocolaty patch of Borneo. This one is not as complex and reminds me of the patchouli used in several mainstream fragrances such as Prada (the original women's version) and even Calvin Klein Euphoria without all the icky synthetic fruit. Un Bois Sepia is better, however, and on a good skin chemistry day it actually dries down to a very pleasant dry wood scent. Generally speaking, it usually smells better on my husband and I like it best as something that remains on my scarves or jackets. Still, it's easy enough to wear in a non-nonsense kind of way, even if I don't think it's quite worth the $200 price tag.

*As a Serge Lutens non-export, Un Bois Sepia was originally only available in a bell jar from the Salons du Palais Royal Shiseido in Paris (they sell online and ship in Europe). A couple of years ago, Uncle Serge began releasing some of the non-exports (Bois Violette, Bois et Fruits, Santal de Mysore and Un Bois Sepia) in the regular rectangular atomizer- first, exclusively at Bergdorf in NYC, later adding a few more doors, such as Luckyscent/Scent Bar in L.A., Aedes in NYC and Beauty Habit. The price of those bottles is $200. Don't confuse the limited edition/distribution of the above with the yearly release of one non-export in a regular bottle (with a black label, $140) that usually makes its first appearance at Barneys. This year we were graced with MKK, last year it was Borneo and the year before (if I'm not mistaken)- Fumerie Turque. Then there are Chergui and Chene which seem to have been added to the export line permanently (the latter has also been obviously reformulated in the last year or so).

Samples of Un Bois Sepia (and the rest of the Serge Lutens, export and not) are available from The Perfumed Court. The Posh Peasant also offers most of the line, but currently not this particular one.

Art: Tree O by Robert Cook

Serge Lutens Gris Clair

I didn't get Gris Clair the first couple of times I tried it shortly after it came out in 2006. The weird burnt lavender was interesting, for sure, but it produced coldness instead of warm embers, and made the air around me move instead of developing on my skin. Only after I passed that first original sample to my husband and smelled it on him, did I start to understand what it was supposed to be, to do and to feel.

Gris Clair is about open air that has remnants of yesterday's smoke in it. A lavender field after harvest, a day that starts off cool and gray but eventually warms up and you can smell the earth baking. And laundry drying on a clothes line outside, soaking up the breeze, the sun and transforms into sweetness when you bury your nose there in the late afternoon hours.

Gris Clair smells better on my husband, I'm fully aware of that. It was the first Lutens bottle I bought him. His skin makes it fully unfold and reveal a lot more than the simplified version that happens on me. Still, I like to wear it for the clean feeling (it's great on a hot and humid August day) and the comfort effect of sweetened lavender.

Gris Clair ($120, 1.7 oz) is part of Serge Lutens export line and available from all the usual suspects- Aedes, Bergdorf, Barneys, Scent Bar/Luckyscent.com and Beauty Habit.

Photo by Nina Leen from Life Magazine archives.

Shiseido Feminite du Bois (Original 1992 Version)

1992 was an important year in the perfume world. It saw the launch of several fragrances that shaped the following decades in terms of trends and expectations. On one side of the arena there was Angel, the gourmand beast. Women decided that to smell "yummy" means bathing in this stuff. The world held its breath and not in a good way. Then there was L'Eau D'Issey, that re-defined "clean "with its fresh marine notes and what is probably the most evil aromachemical to ever be created: Calone. Both spawned too many clones and imitators, each one more barfalicious than the predecessors.



In his own corner of the world, Serge Lutens was embarking on a new adventure. Ten years after his legendary Nombre Noir, he created a new scent that would influence and define quality perfume, even if its sales would never compete with Thierry Mugler's Angel.

Feminite du Bois is a dark and thick jammy wood, infused with enough honey and spice for a Christmas fruitcake (clove, cinnamon, cardamom, cumin), while somehow avoiding the foody trap. It's the father (mother?) of the Bois series that launched later that year under Lutens own brand (backed by Shiseido, as it remains to this day) and explored the concept of sweet wood with other iconic notes (violet, dried fruit, musc and others). While the notes in Feminite du Bois are quite identifiable and it's easy to just label it "plum and ceder", none of it explains the mystery spell that happen on the skin of those who do not hate cumin categorically.

I can't deal with either Serge Noire or Arabie, but the cumin in Feminite du Bois is not necessarily here to mimic human and animal sweat. It actually makes sense to have cumin in this blend for balance. If you tend to run for the hills from cumin, you might still enjoy the pure parfum concentration. I've heard many opinions, but it looks like most agree that the extrait has less cumin and more plum with a heavier woody (and ISO Super E on all its pencil shavings glory) base. I love both and enjoy layering them for full effect.

Shiseido no longer makes Feminite du Bois under the original brand. Instead, it is now an EDP in Uncle Serge's export range, in the familiar rectangular bottle and the Lutens price tag. The formula has changed to accommodate the availability of raw materials, but it's fully recognizable as FdB and is still a very good perfume, though I only tried it briefly a couple of times. The old Shiseido bottles in various concentrations can be easily found online for a very reasonable price (as always, Google is your friend), and samples can be obtained through the usual suspects: The Perfumed Court, The Posh Peasant and Rei Rien.

Art: Silent Groove by Nakisa Seika
Feminite du Bois perfume ad: okadi.com

Serge Lutens Cedre

When Cedre came out in late 2005, many people were somewhat bewildered. They expected Uncle Serge to treat the cedar note in a similar way he stripped oak a year before when he created Chene. Instead of a glorious dry tree, they found themselves sampling a boozy, sweet, ambery oriental perfume with a creamy tuberose in the middle.

Which, of course, is exactly why I adore Cedre.

It radiates. From the sweet opening to the sweeter drydown, this is one weird scent. It takes you on a trip to places where otherworldly things grow. There's apple-free cider, radioactive cinnamon, clove that doesn't bite and wouldn't remind you of the dentist, wood that glows in the dark, white flowers that disappear and pop out again and black honey. It's a carnival and can get quite big and noisy, but on my skin it's heaven.

Cedre has an amazing staying power. I don't envy those who find it a scrubber, because it's water-resistant and requires a long hot shower to go away sufficiently even after 24 hours.

Cèdre ($140, 50 ml) is a Haute Concentration (extra concentrated EDP) and comes in the black box with the black label. It's part of the Serge Lutens export line, available from all the Lutens-friendly locations: Aedes, Luckyscent, BeautyHabit, Barneys, Bergdorf, Blue Mercury and others. Most of them sell online. The Perfumed Court sells samples.

Art: Copper by Brandi Milne

Serge Lutens Miel de Bois- Bee Here Now Blogging Project

When Roxana (of Roxana Illuminated Perfume, who is also the artist who created the image you see above) invited me to participate in the Bee Here Now perfume blogging project, I had no doubt what my contribution would be. Miel de Bois by Serge Lutens is as raw as it can get in the honey department. It's also one of the most reviled scents in the perfume world.

Those who hate Miel de Bois feel this way because they smell something funky in there. That's a polite way to say they get cat pee. A while ago there were rumors that either Serge Lutens himself or the perfume creator Christopher Sheldrake (or both) have had a change of heart about MdB and dislike it now. The story have since been vehemently denied and Miel de Bois has since become a non-export in a bell jar and is now sold exclusively at the Lutens Palais Royal boutique in Paris.

So what's behind the fuss? Perception and skin chemistry, most likely.

Miel de Bois has top notes of ebony, gaiac and oak wood, middle notes of honey and base notes of beeswax, iris and hawthorn. The wood is smoky, which some might find disturbing as top notes, and the honey and beeswax smell raw and natural, unprocessed. Most honey scents I can think of tend to play the edible aspect (Ginestet Botrytis), but they are also transparent and clean (L'Occitane, MAC Naked Honey). Lutens didn't try to tame the honey here. Instead, there's something animalic here- warm and very much alive.

When things are right, MdB coats the skin and feels like it's radiating and pulsating. The floral element (I get a distant powdery iris, the hawthorn is probably a big part of the animalic facet, as it's a pretty unusual flower note) is certainly not the story here, but it softens the wood and smoke and bring on that raw honey note which is, to me, the whole story. There are many types of honey available in any Whole Foods or good deli. Some favor the delicate, lighter ones like wild flowers or clover honey. I prefer the dark buckwheat honey, which is heavy and pungent. I also like the heady aroma of a good orange blossom honey. I find Miel de Bois to have a little of both.

Miel de Bois is strong. While the sillage is reasonable, the lasting power is beyond amazing, as those who needed to scrub it off would attest. It just doesn't go away. I used to spray it, but this is another Lutens that benefits from dabbing- it unfolds better this way. This discovery would probably have benefited my husband (who adores MdB on me and sees it as one of my signature scents). A few years ago when he was still commuting into the city by train, there were a couple of early mornings when he was reaching for his Gris Clair bottle but instead grabbed Miel de Bois. While Gris Clair is good when sprayed lavishly, MdB was not necessarily meant to be shared with fellow commuters. Or your employees.

While Miel de Bois has been pulled out of the export Serge Lutens range and is now only sold in bell jars (110 euro, 2.5 oz) at the Salons du Palais Royal Shiseido in Paris, there are still many places that still have the rectangular bottles in stock ($120, 1.7 oz). Just, please, don't buy blind. The perfumed Court and The Posh Peasant sell samples. Try them first.

For a different look at honey and bees, please visit the other participating blogs:

Roxana Illuminated Perfume

Perfume Shrine

Scent Hive

Beth at the Cleveland Fragrance Examiner

Donna at the Portland Fragrance Examiner

Bee Illustration ©Roxana Villa

Serge Lutens Fleurs de Citronnier

Fleurs de Citronnier is probably the biggest sleeper in Serge Lutens export line. It's often getting passed over in favor of its sultry sibling, Fleurs d'Oranger, which hogs the stage with bold white flowers and spices. It's really a shame, because Fleurs de Citronnier has a lot to offer, especially if you like the more delicate aspect of citrus flowers.

Not that Fleurs de Citronner is all that shy and innocent. It's not, but this perfume doesn't hit you on the head with sex appeal. Instead, the fragrance sneaks up on you and reveals its complexity slowly, especially when dabbed and not sprayed (lately I'm all about dabbing Lutens. It can make a very big difference). Dabing tones down the floral sharpness of the top notes.

It took me a while before I learned to isolate the tuberose note among the neroli and lemon flowers, because it's so well-behaved and cooperates with all the other facets of the perfume. The white blossoms here are honeyed in the best Lutensic way possible, radiating softness. This combination could have easily turned heavy and cloying, but not here. Somehow it's transparent enough to be wearable in every weather and on every occasion.

The base is beautifully musky, like an uplifted Clair de Musc. You can still smell the orange and lemon blossoms many hours into wearing the scent (wonderful staying power, can easily be detected 24 hours later and remains on my pillow), but the sillage plays within acceptable social codes of personal space. It's the kind of perfume I'd wear for a first date. It wouldn't send out the wrong message, but would still make him want to get closer.

Fleurs de Citronnier ($120, 1.69 oz) is available from all the usual suspects: the top tier department stores, Aedes, Blue Mercury, Scent Bar and Beauty Habit (I bought mine from the latter). Most of them also sell online or by phone.

Art: Paperwhites & Meyer Lemons by Jeanie Chadwick

Serge Lutens Clair de Musc- A Perfume For All Seasons

Clair de Musc by Serge Lutens is often ignored or neglected, even by Lutens devotees. The other musks by Uncle Serge tend to get more press: MKK with its beastly reputation and the elegant Bois et Musc that kills you softly. I understand why it happens: the very first time I tried Clair de Musc my first thought was: "is that all?". I already owned three or four other Lutens perfumes and expected something... different, I guess. I remember thinking it reminded me of older hand creams and mostly dismissed it until a bit later I realized I was wearing a gorgeous, understated scent.

I went through five or six samples before finally getting a bottle of Clair de Musc. I reach for it often, especially on days I want something that fits effortlessly but has enough personality. This is probably what many fans of Chanel No. 5 feel towards their bottle- an easy to wear, smooth and exquisitely made perfume that always feels right.

I get a lot of powdery iris, which probably gives Clair de Musc the elegant, put-together air. Other flowers here are ethereal and well-blended. It's like a feminine veil over a creamy base of sandalwood and almost clean white musk. While it feels perfectly coiffed and restrained, it's not a schoolmarm of a scent. The musk has enough body and soul, and while very abstract, it still shows just enough skin to make the wearer aware of her own.

A couple of sprays are the equivalent of putting on the right dress for an event or the right suit to impress a new client. It doesn't overwhelm on a hot day and actually feels cozy on a winter evening under a cashmere sweater. I know Clair de Musc is often compared to classic 70s musks, but to me it smells much more expensive and refined.

Clair de Musc ($120) is available from top department stores: Bergdorf, Neiman, Barneys, as well as from Aedes in NYC and Scent Bar/Luckyscent and Beauty Habit in California. I can't remember where I bought my bottle, but I'm pretty sure I ordered it online.

Photo: Butterfly by Declan McCullagh

Serge Lutens Nuit de Cellophane- Why I love It

Nuit de Cellophane, the spring 2009 release from Serge Lutens, has surprised many by seeming too pretty and simple for the house that brought us Muscs Kublai Khan, Ambre Sultan, Chergui and many others. When it comes to Lutens, the expectations are many, but a fruity-floral isn't one of them. The result was people wondering if Papa Serge has lost it or sold out, because Nuit de Cellophane is just too...wearable.

I fell in love with it from the very first sniff. In my perfume cabinet, "pretty" scents aren't very prominent. I guess I needed a new one, and Nuit de Cellophane fit my idea of a beautiful summer fragrance. It's not that I haven't tried others. I had high hopes for several ones from Ormonde Jayne, including Osmanthus, which is sometimes compared to NdC, but as is often the case when my skin meets florals, things didn't work out as expected. There's always something off- a jasmine that gets too green and screechy, a rose gone sour or a whole composition that tightens its hands around my neck (hello, Datura Noir).



Nuit de Cellophane on its osmanthus-jasmine-honey-musk structure is perfectly balanced. The fruity notes- a rounded mandarin in the opening and the apricot derivative of the osmanthus, are not too sweet and have more texture than actual taste, if that makes any sense. Wearing it feels like putting on that perfect summer dress, the one that just fits effortlessly but still looks stunning, showing just enough glowing skin without the risk of a wardrobe malfunction, or clings just the right way, making one's figure look flawless.

The honey is more of a background note here, it's nothing like Miel de Bois. It serves the purpose of helping the notes glide into the gentle wood-musk base, and stays there to keep things sweet. Nuit de Cellophane is perfect for day as it is for night. When layering, it plays amazingly well with Santal Blanc, and I've also started experimenting with Rousse. If you have more ideas, please comment (I'm still working on the ultimate Serge layering post).

I don't play the What Is Papa Serge Trying To Tell Us? game in deciphering and making sense of the Lutens body of work. I love and wear about 75% of his perfumes, because I find them breathtaking and they work for me. Nuit de Cellophane isn't any different in that regard. It's a rich, layered fragrance that blooms beautifully on my skin, regardless of its ranking compared to MKK.

Images:
photo of Anna May Wong from starletshowcase.blogspot.com
Night Magnolia by the amazing N. Robert Wagstaff

Nuit de Cellophane ($120) is available from the trifecta of luxury department stores (Barneys, Bergdorf and Neiman Marcus) and also from Aedes, Scent Bar and Beauty Habit. Most of them sell online, I bought mine from the latter.

Top 10 Memorable Masculine Fragrances

In honor of Father's Day, Elena of Perfume Shrine and I wanted to honor men and the scents they wear.

Fathers, spouses, old boyfriends, scent twins- they all have one thing in common: they (and us) create memories. Nothing is more emotionally triggering than scent. Think of your father's old cologne from the 70s (did he wear Old Spice? Did he later graduated to the original Polo?) or the Drakkar Noir of your first boyfriend. Did you ever date a man who wore Creed Green Irish Tweed and made you think of Cary Grant (the story is that GIT was created for him)? Did your little brother drench himself in Axe before his first date? Maybe you had a great teacher or work mentor who used to wear Grey Flannel, or had your heart broken by a Chanel Égoïste fan (I did). The point is that it's not just our Shalimar that creates special moments.

Things have changed since the days of the ubiquitous bottle of Polo, and the choices are many. Here's my list of (very) memorable masculine scents for the unforgettable men in our lives. In no particular order:

1. Tauer Perfumes-Lonestar Memories
Smoky, strong and outdoorsy at times, warm leather, herbal with a hint of Lapsang Souchong. More interesting and sophisticated than the cowboy image.

2. Tom Ford Private Blend-Tuscan Leather
Soft, smooth and as leathery as they come. Warm and inviting, evokes both a leather jacket and an old study full with leather-bound books.

3. Mazzolari-Lui
An animalic patchouli like no other. Sweet and dangerous (especially if over-applied).

4. Serge Lutens-Gris Clair
Burnt lavender. A bit brooding, yet clean and crisp.

5. Guerlain-Vetiver
A great classic. Citrus top over green vetiver. Perfectly tasteful.

6. Maitre Parfumeur et Gantier-Iris Bleu Gris
Dry to the bone, earthy without being dirty.

7. JAR-Shadow
Damp and mysterious. A visit to dark cellars and forgotten attics.

8. Frederic Malle-Vetiver Extraordinaire
Dry and bitter vetiver, yet still green. A scent to take over the boardroom before going out to take Manhattan.

9. Hermes-Terre d'Hermes
Perhaps the most popular in this bunch, yet somewhat controversial. Orange peel and minerals, crisp and strong.

10. Comme des Garcons-Monocle Scent One: Hinoki
Incense, evergreens, a forest floor.

Please visit Perfume Shrine for more unforgettable masculine fragrances.

Serge Lutens- Un Bois Vanille

It occurred to me that while Un Bois Vanille was my first step into the Lutens universe, I never actually reviewed it beyond telling the world I was completely and utterly smitten. It probably had to do with being too busy cooing at my bottle.

My love affair with Un Bois Vanille has unleashed my passion for gourmand notes. The richness of the anise/licorice, milky coconut and roasted, caramel-like sweetness reminds me of making dulce de leche at home. It's too interesting and complex to be a simple comfort scent. It's darker than many other vanilla perfumes, and while I often see it compared to Guerlain Spiritueuse Double Vanille, I find them very different. SDV is very boozy, and while I like it well enough, my skin neutralizes most of the interesting aspects of smoky incense and leaves me with something too simple. Un Bois Vanille has that Lutensic (Lutenesque?) magic that makes household items start singing and dancing.

Un Bois Vanille can be intoxicating by itself, but it's also a wonderful team player when layering. It works well with many other Lutens fragrances. Try, for example, with Louve, Rousse or Chene. But I also go outside the family: it transforms Eau d'Hadrien and makes it sparkle over the rich vanilla base. But the most wonderfully outrageous combination is something I thought about one day when I layered UBV with Fleurs d'Oranger (another good one): the next day I wore two (small) sprays of Un Bois Vanille and two dabs of Rubj (Vero Profumo). It just might be my greatest contribution to the world.

Un Bois Vanille ($120) is part of Serge Lutens export range and available wherever the other square perfumes are sold. In the US it means Barneys, Neiman Marcus, Bergdorf Goodman, Blue Mercury, Aedes, Scent Bar (Luckyscent), Beauty Habit and probably a few others. Most of them also offer it online. If I remember correctly, I bought mine from Aedes.

Photo of homemade dulce de leche by audinou on flickr

Top Ten Summer Perfumes

Can there be a list of summer perfume recommendation without boring myself silly and/or mentioning Eau d'Hadrien? I'm going to try. Some of these are new(ish), others are perennial favorites. In no particular order:

1. Reverie au Jardin- Tauer
Midsummer afternoon dream. Will transport you to a magical alpine garden.

2. Amethyst- Olivier Durbano
Slightly sweetened pencil shavings, clean incense and a touch of vanilla. Surprisingly refreshing in the heat.

3. Un Matin d'Orage- Annick Goutal
Green gardenias drenched in rain without an ounce of sweetness until the musky drydown.

4. Monyette Paris *
The other side of gardenia. Tropical, sweet with a touch of nag champa incense. Put a flower in your hair and go dancing on the beach.
*I think it's the first fragrance review I've written here. It's magnificently bad, but kind of nostalgic in a campy way.

5. Nuit de Cellophane- Serge Lutens
Osmanthus flowers with a hint of apricot. Like drinking iced peach tea on a beautiful Cape May porch.

6. Italian Cypress- Tom Ford
Is it an homage to Eau d'Hadrien (so I lied. It had to be mentioned)? Maybe. But the cypress is a darker green and the feeling is more pulled together.

7. Encre Noire- Lalique
Or any other vetiver, really. I've chosen this one because it's a bit softer while still dry and grassy.

8. (Vintage) Vivara-Pucci
I'm talking about the original 60s formula. A salty chypre that belongs with the jet set in San Tropez. White pants, a Pucci scarf and oversized sunglasses are essential.

9. Bois Blond- Parfumerie Generale
A roll in dry hay on a lazy Sunday afternoon. You can smell the earth and trees baking in the sun.

10. Figuier- Heeley
Like lying in the shade of a huge, old fig tree next to a running stream.

What are your summer favorites this year?

art: Embarkation by Dan Dahlke

Serge Lutens Water Lip Color (Encre Pour Les Levres)

It looked like a good idea at the time.

After all, long before Serge Lutens has created his perfumes, he became famous for the innovative makeup looks he developed for Dior and Shiseido. I've been fawning over his makeup line for a while (and briefly tested the eye shadows. Liked them a lot), so when the Water Lip Colors came out I had to get one.

The choice was easy, as there are only two colors: Chardon (a berry/purple grape) and Safrané (a fiery orange). I went with the former.

The packaging didn't disappoint. An elegant Lutens box in black and tan, holding the sleek tube with the slanted applicator. I liked the wand and found it efficient in reaching the corners and curves, which is quite important when dealing with a lip stain (unlike a regular gloss that tends to be more forgiving).

Unlike too many lips stains on the market, the Lutens goes on much more evenly and isn't blotchy when first applied (attention: foreshadowing). It's completely sheer and takes the concept of "your lips, but better" into new heights. The finish is matte and there's absolutely no goop or residue, so it doesn't even look like makeup. Color intensity is somewhat buildable. I've found that three coats give me exactly the right look.

But nothing is perfect.

It takes a little practice to paint within the lines. Using a lip liner would completely ruin the look here, so you need to make sure not even a speck of color lands outside the desired area. I also discovered that any imperfection on the lip, like my tiny scar, absorb more tint than desired. I have to use a thin brush and fill the scar with a lip balm (or an eye cream... works just as well), so the product doesn't pool in it. Once I got the hang of it, initial application was great. The problem is with the way the lip stain wears. Blotches appear towards the inside of the mouth after about an hour or once you drink the first cup of tea, whichever comes first. Since the color doesn't wear off evenly, I end up looking as though I've just eaten a grape popsicle. Not exactly something you want when paying $65 for the most stylish lip product around.

Serge Lutens makeup in the USA is exclusive to Barneys (in Europe it can be ordered directly from the Salons du Palais Royal). I ordered it online, but at the moment it seems they're out of stock.

Photos: mine (as apparent from the poor quality). Model: Gracie

Serge Lutens Cuir Mauresque

Leather is:
a Birkin bag (why not start at the top?)
saddles, horses, the whole barnyard
and the cowboy
the inside of a lady's purse with the mysterious powdery smell and a red lipstick
fetish gear and a dominatrix corset
heavy furniture
old, important books
and perfume.

I have leather perfumes representing almost each and every one of the above (and really should get a bottle of CBIHP In The Library). The leather note is often paired with iris, smoke, ripe fruit or violet and I love them all. But my favorite is the one less easily defined (and probably most controversial), Cuir Mauresque by Serge Lutens.

It has the weirdest top notes. It starts with a medicinal and somewhat perverse note with an almost sweet turpentine-like quality that strangely agrees with my skin and feels extremely sensual before the main course of hardcore leather arrives. At times I could have sworn I smell oud, but maybe it's just an interpretation of that crazy opening. The leather itself is even sweeter and has an ambery transparency (ambery as in the appearance of the resinous but scentless Baltic stone, not the vanillic perfume note). Cuir Mauresque has the Lutens signature of spiced dry fruit (I get some cinnamon and maybe candied citrus peel), though thankfully without the cumin and sewage of Arabie, and it's prettified by a sheer white floral note that stays mostly in the background but is quite detectable in the drydown.

The result is extremely sensual. Like many Lutens perfumes, Cuir Mauresque is neither feminine nor masculine, it has its own identity which happens to work brilliantly with my skin chemistry. It's a scent better dabbed than sprayed, with a very modest sillage after the first hour and an all day longevity. I find it easy to wear just about anywhere and any time. Unlike Bandit, for example, which screams of naughty things, Cuir Mauresque is more discreet when worn by itself. But it can be taken to a whole new level if layered with a white floral. When I add Fleurs d'Oranger it feels like I can take Manhattan (and possibly also Berlin). If you tried pairing CM with the other white florals (I'm thinking A la Nuit or Un Lys), please tell us how it went.

While I can't get enough of Cuir Mauresque and tend to murmur sweet nothings at my bell jar, others have a completely different take on this juice. My favorite scathing review is by Nathan Branch. I think I want to smell it on him.



Cuir Mauresque (75 ml, 110 €) is a Paris exclusive, which means you can only buy it directly from the Salons du Palais Royal Shiseido. I bought mine when I was there last summer, but if you live in Europe you can order it either online or by phone. They do not ship elsewhere in the world. Samples are available from both The Posh Peasant and The Perfumed Court.

Image: Scène de harem (Femme mauresque à sa toilette) by Théodore Chassériau

Sunday Sniffage

The warming weather means that one can actually walk the short distance between Bergdorf and Barneys without contemplating death or a move to Florida. Which means a perfect day for some uptown sniffing for the Blond and I.

First was Bergdorf. Both of us have been on a serious Tom Ford kick lately (reviews coming soon), so we had to try the new Italian Cypress, a Milan exclusive until recently. The first impression was that it's a more conservative, a safer scent than others in the line. From the notes (citrus, herbs, wood resins and lots of cypress), I had a feeling it would be a darker, heavier interpretation of Goutal's Eau d'Hadrien, which was exactly what I smelled. If at first the Blond was a bit disappointed, he was won over by the time Italian Cypress dried down. On his skin it's elegant, manly and dark green. While there's noting innovative there, it's very well-made and alluring. A perfect first date scent of there ever was one.

We were disappointed to see that Bergdorf doesn't have Serge Lutens Nuit de Cellophane yet. They did have the newly labeled and repackaged Feminite du Bois. The eager sales assistance (not the wonderful Michael, who wasn't around this afternoon) tried to convince me Feminite du Bois is a brand new scent. For a moment I considered educating him about the Bois series in general and FdB in particular, but decided not to bother.

I just gave him a look.

Next was a quick stop at the Guerlain counter. The Blond is still unconvinced about most of the masculines other than Habit Rouge, I still like Derby but the lack of staying power is annoying. My main goal was to try the new release, La Petite Robe Noire. I knew it was fruity, I knew it was gourmand. I enjoy many of Guerlain's eau de patisserie style scents. But I was not ready for what I smelled.

Apparently, Guerlain is now doing a Vera Wang Princess.

The abomination is residing in the classic Mitsouko-like bottle. This is the last thing I'd wear with a little black dress. Actually, this is the last thing I'd wear, period. I didn't have much love for LVMH and their money-making machine before, but this release and what it symbolizes will make me think twice before I buy another Guerlain.

Next stop was Barneys. They didn't have much (anything?) new (what does it say about you when you can almost recite the entire Barneys fragrance catalog?), but there was a tester of Serge Lutens Nuit de Cellophane (they'll have it in stock later this week), and while I was fully prepared to dislike it, I fell in love on the spot. Yes, it's a white floral, very feminine. To me, it speaks of spring, sheer white fabric and lots of pretty things. Half a spray has lasted all day (still going as I'm writing this) without being suffocating. These days I rarely buy a bottle based on one testing, but I'm going to make an exception with this and get Nuit de Cellophane this week. My experience with Uncle Serge's work is that when it works it just works (and when it doesn't, I die of cumin exposure). This one is a winner for me.

Photo: Peter showing off his sniffer. All rights are mine (and his).

Serge Lutens Muscs Kublai Khan: Beauty And The Beast

People reading this post can be put into two categories: those who know what MKK stands for and those who don't. If you're in the first group, most chances you have a firm opinion about it.

MKK stands for Muscs Kublai Khan, a perfume from Serge Lutens non-export line. It's what we tend to call a "dirty musk" (mostly to differentiate it from the modern clean musks that evoke nothing but a laundry detergent) , though opinions on the level of dirtiness in this fragrance vary greatly. If you google Muscs Kublai Khan and dig enough, you would find colorful reviews, mentions of horses, genitalia and horses' genitalia. Which is where I make the "whatcha talking 'bout?" face.

I cannot argue with the fact MKK smells "raw", which probably translates to "animalic" for some. I've heard rumors of cumin, but I don't get any at all. Quite the opposite, actually, if we agree that a cumin note in perfume represents the dirty and the sweaty. What I'm getting is actually clean, sweet and warm. The dirty part is not the scent itself, but the warm skin feel it evokes and all the things one might associate with a skin in this state. In his review for Perfume Smellin' Things, my scent twin Tom called it "clean bodies in compromising positions", and that's exactly right.

I can't say I get any of the Mongolian warrior associations of the name. There's nothing horrifying, violent or medieval about Muscs Kublai Khan (but Serge Lutens is known for his interesting way with words. This is the man who named his most recent release "Nuits de Cellophane", whatever that means). On my skin it's a thing of beauty and has nothing to do with the great unwashed. It's also incredibly strong and persistent, even after the big show of the ultra sweet top notes fades away.

It's so strong, actually, that anything more than a couple of dabs can get extremely distracting. Over apply and you will keep smelling MKK, thinking about MKK, feeling MKK. It will occupy your thoughts in a NSFW way, so be careful. Another word of warning: Muscs Kublai Khan is meant to be dabbed and not sprayed. I'm saying this as someone who prefers to spray just about anything and regularly decants parfum extracts into mini atomizers. I did the same with MKK and it's just wrong. You don't want to cover a lot of skin with this, and spraying releases way too much. A discreet dab or two where it matters is all you need, and maybe half a dab on your wrist for a quick fix throughout the day (somehow planting my nose in the cleavage isn't all that graceful).

Muscs Kublai Khan (75 ml, 110 €) is a Paris exclusive, which means you can only buy it directly from the Salons du Palais Royal Shiseido. I bought mine when I was there last summer, but if you live in Europe you can order it either online or by phone. They do not ship elsewhere in the world. Samples (and please sample several times before you even think of asking your aunt Sally to bring you one from Paris. See the horse references above) are available from The Perfumed Court.

Photo: 'Beauty and the Beast', Sydney Dance Company, 1993