Serge Lutens El Attarine

Let's sniff:
--cumin?    ✔
--stewed apricots in syrup?    ✔
--smooth cedar?    ✔
--intense musk?    ✔

Must be a Serge Lutens.

And it is. El Attarine was released in the fall of 2008 as part of the exclusive Paris-only Serge Lutens line, and it fits perfectly with several of its predecessors:  The stewed fruit of Bois et Fruit (thank you, Captain Obvious), the woods of the entire Bois series (including Feminite de Bois with its plum and cumin over cedar) and the animalic musk and civet of MKK. However, in many ways what I smell in El Attarine is a do-over of Arabie (2000, the export range). It's like a "once more, with feeling (and a lot less cumin)" version of the Serge Lutens perfume I dislike the most. And it works. Mostly.

The reason I can't stand Arabie is because it smells like an unpleasant location. Those who've never been to a souk can romanticize it all they want, but behind the spice stands, Arabian Nights-worthy jewelers and mysterious attar and perfume stores there are smelly back alleys, some with open sewage running out of the (very non-vegetarian) restaurants. When I smell Arabie that's what I see and feel.

El Attarine is the romance and postcard-worthy imagery of ancient cities and markets. Officially named after El Attarine Madrassa in Fez, Morocco, a majestic 14th century school and mosque, but also carrying the name of the perfume market in Tunis, Souk El Attarine. Uncle Serge who lives in Marrakesh has a thing for the Arabic design and aesthetics and uses them generously in his own house (where he doesn't actually live). Some of this elaboration also exists in El Attarine, and it works beautifully.

It took me a while before I dared wearing El Attarine around my cuminphobe husband. He has yet to complain, so I guess it really is much gentler and kinder. The cumin is most noticeable in the first 20 minutes and later moves away and lets the honeyed fruit and stewed wood do the talking. There's also more than a hint of maple-like immortelle, which I personally love but know it's not for everyone.

The thing is that El Attarine is shockingly short-lived. I can't think of any Serge Lutens perfume that becomes a faint memory on my skin after three hours at most. This just doesn't happen in my world, and it's the only reason a bell jar of this golden syrup is not on my current wish-list.

El Attarine ($115, 75 ml) is exclusive to Serge Lutens Paris boutique at the Salons du Palais Royal Shiseido. EU residents can order online or by phone, the rest of us can buy samples and decants from The Posh Peasant and the Perfumed Court.

Images:
El Attarine ad from imagesdeparfums.fr
Madrassa El Attarine, Fez, by Michelle Bartsch
Souk El Attarine, Tunis, by Liz Tagami and nachoua.com

Serge Luten Fourreau Noir

Sometimes my taste in perfume makes me question my sanity. Many reviews and impressions of Fourreau Noir, a 2009 non-export Serge Lutens release, mention/lament/celebrate two accords- black smoke and a dirty animalic heart. For some of the people who tried Fourreau Noir (the loaded name translates as black sheath) these aspects made it difficult to wear. Me? My skin diffuses smoke and domesticates large beasts. I find Fourreau Noir not just soft and cuddly but also as comfortable and embracing as an old hoodie fresh from the laundry.

I mentioned laundry for a reason. The lavender note is strong in the opening and quite persistent after. It's not the first time a Serge Lutens perfume takes me there (and I'm not talking about the questionable L'Eau). Gris Clair has a facet of crisp white sheets drying outside on a cool breezy day. Fourreau Noir is fuzzy and warm as though it just left the dryer. The lavender over a sweet gourmand base supports this idea, though it's not exactly Downy Lavender-Vanilla fabric softener. Don't worry.

Fourreau Noir is musky, but to me it's a fairly clean musk with a hint of fruitiness. The tactile equivalent is of a soft silk-merino knit, kind of like the long wrap sweater with caressing kimono sleeves I'm wearing now as I'm typing this review. This coziness is helped greatly by the sweet gourmand dry-down. Tonka bean, almond cookies covered in very light powdered sugar and lots and lots of immortelle. I love immortelle on its mapley goodness, and in this case the maple smells like it was aged and smoked in old wood barrels. This is the kind of stuff I expect and enjoy from our favorite uncle.

Now, if a bell jar, preferably of the special limited edition kind with the black cat could just magically appear on my doorstep...

Fourreau Noir (120 euros, 75 ml) is one of Serge Lutens exclusive Paris-only perfumes, available at the Salons du Palais Royal Shiseido. If you're a EU resident you can also order it online or by phone. The rest of us can be thankful to the Posh Peasant and the Perfumed Court that sell samples and decants.

Art: Shade Light Tulles Cuttings by Serge Lutens, 1995
Bottle of Lutens special edition etched Fourreau Noir bell jar from fragrantica.com

Serge Lutens Encens et Lavande

I tend to think of lavender as a very French note. From crisp white sheets in a Parisian hotel room to delicately embroidered Provençal sachets for one's drawer of fine unmentionables. and then there are favorite lavender perfumes such as Vero Perfumo Kiki, a homage to Paris, from laundry to pastry and the eternal Jicky. But then there's also Serge Lutens and his lavender- here, in Encens et Lavande as well as in Gris Clair and the newer Fourreau Noir. Not surprisingly, Uncle Serge has his own unique take on the classic note.

Encens et Lavande feels  like world music. Not the cheesy Enya stuff, but the authentic thing you catch here and there in your travels. It's foreign and yet familiar like your own voice chanting, and it transforms you to a place of serenity. Unlike many Lutens perfumes, there is no kaleidoscope of spice and amber in Encens et Lavande. It actually smells quite simple on the surface- a herbal opening of lavender and greens (sources list clary sage, I can't say for sure but there's also a hint of cool rosemary) and a dry-down of smoky incense, dark and ashy. That might be all, but it's the progress from outdoors into a dark alcove, a shrine, perhaps, where incense has been burning for days and penetrating the stone walls.

The frankincense is among the richest and most beautiful I've smelled. It's woody at times, sweet and dry, tells of warm embers and cold dried ash. On the skin everything comes alive. Some may find it too masculine, probably because of the vast and airy lavender field of the opening that makes people think of men's cologne. But incense lovers have a good chance to find a lot more than soapy herbs in this blend. Also, anti-Lutens perfume lovers should also give Encens et Lavande a chance. This is not a drama queen of a scent that demands your attention at any turn. Instead this perfume serves as a silent companion on quiet rainy afternoons at home.

Encens et Lavande (120 euros, 75 ml) is one of Serge Lutens exclusive non-export perfumes, only available at Les Salon du Palais-Royal Shiseido in Paris. For us North Americans, The Posh Peasant and The Perfumed Court sell samples and decants.

Art: Enlightment by Hessam Abrishami

Serge Lutens- Tubéreuse Criminelle

Tubéreuse Criminelle is one of Serge Lutens most daring and shocking perfumes. As if tuberose is not a difficult enough note for many, the opening is so camphorous, medicinal and rubbery it doesn't even smell like perfume. And it's utterly marvelous.

Lutens avoids all the pitfalls, cliches and comparisons to the other famous tuberose, Fracas. Tubéreuse Criminelle is not a big diva with the feather boa and cleavage. It might have  it in its depth and dry-down, depending on the wearer's skin chemistry, but at first it appears stubborn and unyielding, hiding behind its uninviting facade. It makes me think of Ingrid Bergman's character in The Cactus Flower (1969), one of my favorite movies. Ms Bergman plays the prim and proper Swedish nurse, spinster and schoolmarmish who ends up blooming, like the cactus flower, for the first time in many years.

So, what happens to Tubéreuse Criminelle on skin? I like rubber and camphor and don't feel too self-conscious about the medicine cabinet blast. It's what happens about 20 minutes later that is so amazing. All of a sudden you smell a real tuberose in 3D- white and pure, feminine and grand, straightforward and mysterious all at the same time. Tubéreuse Criminelle is green and sweet and floral. There's a luminous quality to this scent which I wish lasted longer- the dry-down ends up too polite and mellow- all that drama for a soft petal-like flower. It has it advantages- after an hour or so Tubéreuse Criminelle stops drawing any attention to itself. It hangs close to the skin and behaves. It's beautiful, friendly and rather dignified- can be worn at just about any setting, as long as one's skin chemistry can handle the jagged edge of the opening.

Tubéreuse Criminelle (125 euro, 75ml)  is one of Serge Lutens non-export perfumes, only available in the Salons du Palais Royal Shiseido in Paris and by phone/web for residents of the EU.

Photo of Ingrid Bergman with her cactus from imdb.com.

Serge Lutens Rose de Nuit

Serge Lutens' Rose de Nuit is a true creature of the night. It's what his Sa Majeste La Rose is trying to be but is too sunny and lively to achieve. Both have an animalic musk element, but in Rose de Nuit it almost gets out of control. It's also somehow sweeter, more tempting and unlike Sa Majeste, never turns sour (on me). Rose de Nuit is also wickedly dark- not exactly your average romantic Valentine's Day rosy perfume and definitely not the dewy raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens you'd find in many a popular rose scent.

Rose de Nuit has a dirty honey note, a little bit like what you find in Miel de Bois (which might explain why some find it unpalatable. I think it's more waxy, though, and a little opaque- a heavy velvet to MdB's silk, if that makes any sense. Usually when one thinks about mysterious and mystical rose perfumes you expect them to be heavy on the incense. But Serge Lutens makes them look like high school goth-wannabes. They wear all black and Robert Smith eyeliner, while the real vampires walk among us reeking of heavy musk.

The late dry-down of Rose de Nuit is surprisingly tame and gentle. It stays close to the skin and is just a sweet musk with a hint of candied rose. Dabbing makes it a lot warmer and more intimate than spraying from a decant, something I find to be true with many Lutens perfumes.

Rose de Nuit is part of Serge Lutens non-export line. You know the drill- available only in Europe and in your dreams, but the Posh Peasant and The Perfumed Court sell samples and decants in various sizes.

Photo of the wonderful Juliet Landau as Drusilla the vampire (Joss Whedon's Buffy and Angel) lfrom somewhere on the web. I lost the source ages ago.

Serge Lutens Iris Silver Mist

The first time I smelled Iris Silver Mist, Maurice Roucel's 1994 creation for Serge Lutens, I understood why some people found it questionable as a personal scent. The opening smells like fresh carrots that were just pulled out of damp soil. It's weird, alright. But then the whole picture is revealed- there's a cold an almost metallic note, but also a sort-of-sweet- but-not-quite powdery iris, some bitterness and a gorgeous soft floral accord.

Iris notes often translates into dark chocolate when worn on skin. It's probably something about the combination of powder and butter. That's where Iris Silver Mist abandons its kitchen garden roots (pun intended) and becomes a thing of beauty- one part sexy skin scent and one part an ethereal haze. I doubt anyone who doesn't really like iris on all its weird twists would enjoy Lutens version. Maurice Roucel took iris to its very extreme limits in Iris Silver Mist and created what I think his very best and most original work.

If you are a fan of iris in all its mysterious glory I'd urge you to get a sample (from the Posh Peasant or The Perfumed Court). Once you fall in love we can start a petition to Uncle Serge to bring Iris Silver Mist in an export bottle, or better yet, make the bell jars available in North America. Is it too much to ask?

Iris Silver Mist ($125 euro, 75ml EDP) is part of Serge Lutens non-export line. You know the story by now- only in Paris or online for EU residents.

Photo by Jette W. Frederiksen

Serge Lutens Lipstick Roman Rouge #2

Serge Lutens lipsticks are legendary both for their intense colors and their outrageous prices. Not that I'd expect anything less from this creative genius with his amazing aesthetics, vision and penchant for luxury (those who saw the bathrooms of his Salons du Palais Royal in Paris know what I mean). But we're here to talk about his makeup, and my previous purchase of a lip color from his line was less than satisfactory. His Water Lip Color (a runny and weird lip stain) was a huge waste of money and time to make it work, so I must really trust dear Uncle Serge for giving him another chance.

The lipsticks are a completely different story. All ten shades are very pigmented, and most of them are variations on the very Parisian theme of sexy red (or purple). The one I chose, No. 2 Roman Rouge,  is obviously a dark berry red (not as plummy as my beloved Tom Ford Bruised Plum, but they're pretty close). The pigment is intense and gives a very sexy look.

The Lutens lipstick glides on effortlessly  but is obviously a lipstick and not a balm. It's all about the color here. It wears comfortably (the thin layer feels barely there), has a satin finish that can be blotted down to matte if that's your thing. Just like Tom Ford lipsticks, the staying power is phenomenal and it barely transfers to glasses and cups. While not pulling out moisture from the lips, it's not a hydrating formula, either, so you have to make extra sure your lips are perfectly exfoliated and plumped up with a moisturizing product.

My favorite look when wearing the lipstick is an all-black outfit, a perfect almost matte skin, thin black liner, 2-3 coats of black mascara, a wash of a neutral eye shadow (like Bobbi Brown Sable or Burberry Antique Rose) and a pale blush (NARS Douceur). Serge Lutens MKK or Fleurs d'Oranger are optional.

Serge Lutens lipsticks are refillable, a great thing considering the price (I wish Guerlain would adopt this idea for their Rouge G series). The SA at Barneys recommended that every buyer makes sure before leaving the store that he or she got the color they wanted (pay attention to the number on the tester and on the box), because what they do is grab the refill and pop it into the shell, and sometimes the wrong color gets inserted.

Bottom Line: If this is your style and you can afford it, then the lipstick is actually worth the money.

Serge Lutesn lipsticks ($75 including case, $55 for the refill) as well as the rest of his makeup line are available exclusively from Barneys in the US (including online) and at the Salons du Palais Royal Shiseido in Paris.


Photos of Roman Rouge lipstick are mine.
Art: Louise- Composition Lettriste Noir Rouge et Blanc by Serge Lutens, 1989

Serge Lutens- Boxeuses

Wearing Boxeuses, the newest non-export perfume by Serge Lutens, is a real trip, in the best possible way. It has a lot going on there- gourmand notes of the familiar Lutens/Sheldrake variety- candied plums, sweet anise cookies, together with animalic notes reminiscent of MKK and the best part- leather, leather, leather.

Boxeuses means female boxers, of the punching kind, not the velvet wrinkle faced doggies. Does Uncle Serge has a thing for women in shorts and bare midriffs? Has he been sniffing boxing gloves? Who knows. To me it's the leather note that takes me for a spin. A vintage car, leather seats, stopping at the gas station and smelling gasoline and the hot tar of the road, the seats are soaking up the sun as is one's skin, and it's all so sweet and sexy.

I'm in a little bit of an "anywhere but here" mood, so the road trip fantasy is very appealing right now, along with the hints of childhood memories of summers in the car, licorice and plum cakes. Boxeuses is both arousing and comforting, and is just a terrific perfume, reminding us exactly why Serge Lutens is among the greatest perfume visionaries of our time.

Of course, Uncle Serge is all about being artistic, cryptic and French, so he doesn't want our filthy American money. Boxeuses (120 euro, 75ml) is one of Lutens non-exports and only available from the Salons du Palais Royal Shiseido in Paris (if you live in select European countries you can order online or by phone). Thankfully, The Posh Peasant and The Perfumes Court sell samples and decants and are eager to have our business. Imagine that.

Photo by Reinfreid Marass

Serge Lutens Sarrasins

I had very few expectations from Sarrasins, the 2007 non-export Serge Lutens. I never enjoyed À la Nuit, Uncle Serge's earlier jasmine-centric perfume or most of his sort-of-soliflore creations. I also found the deep purple juice a bit disturbing. Eventually I had to start testing it, though, and my first sniffing of Sarassins at the Paris Salons confirmed that Sarrasins was hardly even related to poor À la Nuit (my skin makes this older Lutens smell cheap and flat).

The indoles in Sarrasins are there at the top but they are wilder and deeper than in À la Nuit and many heady jasmine/white florals move toe the line between perfume and bathroom air refresher. Instead, Sarrasins is wild and animalic, like a werewolf that has fallen asleep in your summer garden. There's nothing gentle or delicate about this Lutens, for better and for worse. It's constructed in such a way I find it a little different every time I dare revisit. For someone who doesn't shy from animalics in perfume, it's quite surprising that I have such difficulties wearing Sarrasins. I like it, really, I do. I appreciate the complexity, the civet-like and leather note and the obviously supreme quality of the jasmine (is there some ylang-ylang in the heart? On some days I get a round and creamy feeling from the floral part).

The thing is that Sarrasins wears so uncomfortably on me it makes me want to jump out of my skin. I can't explain why, and it's especially weird because the perfume has a beautiful skin-like salty note I absolutely adore. It's the other stuff, the larger-than-life jasmine bush, the obvious floral quality that never goes away and claims all of my attention at every moment. It's just not me and after several hours of coddling this demanding creature I find myself running to the shower and scrubbing every inch of skin to get rid of it.

It never stops me from trying again after a while, though.

Sarrasins is one of Serge Lutens non-export perfumes (125 euro, 75ml), only available from the Salons du Palais Royal Shiseido in Paris.

Art: Serge Lutens

Serge Lutens Rahat Loukoum

There used to be a Fauchon store (yes,the Parisian version of heaven) on Park Avenue where you buy Turkish delight in assorted flavors. I miss it greatly, but one of the best things of living in Northern NJ is that our ugly strip malls hold more than dry cleaners, Chinese fast food and really horrible pizza places. There's one in the next town over that features not only an authentic Italian deli with homemade fresh mozzarella and semolina bread, but also a Middle Eastern grocer that stocks this highly addictive thigh-expanding treasure.

I've always loved rahat loukoum and I'm not the only one in this household. My orange tabby, Kosh, has such a thing for it he recognizes the smell and does everything in his four-pawed power to break into cabinets and tear into boxes of carefully-hidden Turkish delight. Try telling him it's very undignified for a cat to go hunting for pistachios.

Kosh must be on to something, because half the perfume world has been jumping into the sweet arms of the almondy, powdery scent lately. March of the Posse posted an overview of Turkish delight scents and I've seen people all over Twitter joining the fun. I've been quickly depleting my umpteenth decant of Serge Lutens Rahat Loukoum and indulging in my other favorites. It's been part of trying to decide if I really do need a bottle of L'Artisan Traversee du Bosphore which I've found myself craving more and more despite my better judgement. Not that it's too surprising, really. This weather calls for it.

But let's go back to Uncle Serge and his version of the guilty pleasure. Rahat Loukoum is probably the most gourmand in his already craving creating line. The first thing I smell in it is heliotrope, that almond-cherry combination that if you're lucky makes you happy without sending you into Play-Doh land. I have no idea what's the deal with the Play-Doh comparisons, really. Last summer when my two year old niece was here, I sniffed all the colors in the pack I got her, than sprayed several of my heliotrope laden perfumes, trying to find similarities, but never did. Play-Doh smells so plastic-like and rather disgusting, really. Louve, L'Heure Bleue, Luctor et Emergo and all the loukoum scents are heaven to me.

After the heliotrope note comes the more realistic almond. It's not as wet and marzipan-like as in Luctor, actually it's quite dry and powdery with a hint of wood and white musk. It sits nicely on my skin, very warm and cuddly without over indulging on the vanilla like in my guilty pleasure of Lea St. Barth (still hoarding a bottle of the Extreme version), which becomes very chocolatey. Lutens' Loukoum to me is less sweet than the one from Keiko Mecheri and is actually less shame-inducing than the other scents in this category. I can even see men wearing it, as long as their skin chemistry isn't turning it into a sticky mess. I find Uncle Serge's version quite a bit more put-together and reined-in. Maybe it's the bell-jar effect. It's still not as polite as the new L'artisan, but it has a honeyed smoothness and a skin-like finish that should make Rahat Loukom one of the more palatable scents in the group.

Serge Lutens Rahat Loukoum (115 euro, 2.5 oz) is part of the non-export collection that's exclusively available in Parisian Salons du Palais Royal Shiseido (and can be ordered online and by phone only if you're in Europe). On our shores, decants and samples are available from The Posh Peasant and The Perfumed Court.

Image of Narnia motivational poster (that's Tilda Swinton as the White Witch seducing poor Edmond with Turkish delight) from geonforever.deviantart.com

Serge Lutens Bois et Musc

One of the thing I like best about the legendary Bois series by Serge Lutens is the almost musical aspect of it- you can smell them one by one, recognize the common theme and "listen" to the different variations. Then you can choose your favorite(s), which will likely depend on your preference between musk, orientals, dried fruit or violets. Or all of the above.

Bois et Musc wears similarly to the granddady of the series, Feminite du Bois- it has all the elements we know and love- boozy plums, cedar, spice (yes, cumin) and a nice heart of clean musk. It's sexy, warm and goes beautifully with a cashmere scarf and a glass of red wine on a winter night. I can't recall if I've layered FdB recently with Clair de Musc, but I won't be surprised if the result would be pretty close.

It wasn't always like this, though. I seem to recall older samples of Bois et Musc where the perfume had more bite. It wasn't so literal a love child of Feminite du Bois and a harmless musk, though it didn't seem related to MKK, either. It had its own personality, which is also evident in the wax sample I still have. The changes aren't surprising- the new FdB has been reformulated, and though it's still recognizable and very nice, die-hard fans are not amused. It makes sense that the rest of the Bois series also lost something. Serge Lutens doesn't denies that there have been changes in the formulas- between issues with availability (and quality) of raw materials and IFRA, nothing stays the same. I'm kicking myself a little for not getting a full bell jar of Bois et Musc when I was at the Salon in 2008, but back then Uncle Serge and his creations seemed a little more eternal than they are today.

Bois et Musc is part of Serge Lutens non-export line and only available as a bell jar (115 euro, 75ml) from the Salons du Palais Royals Shiseido in Paris. Those living in Europe can also order it online (sergelutens.com). The rest of us only get to pout.

Art: Piano Concept In G by Vladan Ignatovic

Serge Lutens Mandarine-Mandarin

Mandarine Mandarin is a Lutens-Sheldrake collaboration from the group of latter day bell jars (2006), and as such has never become a legend. I'm not sure why, really, because it's a terrific citrus oriental with a dash of the Lutensian syrup, lots of non-cuminy spice, a hint of smoke and an ambery dry-down.

Citrus perfumes are too often light, airy and all about freshness. I guess it's the zing and the zest that make some perfumers go exactly the same way, which let's be honest, is way too boring. But when you give Serge Lutens oranges and mandarins he makes a thick and rich juice that goes a lot darker than you'd expect. Even the opening note that are clearly citrus- rind, pulp and everything in the middle, are already spicy and have absolutely no sporty vibe. They are joined by a spiked and boozy black tea, something herbal that feels like it was cooked in the teapot and more of the sweetened fruit, though it's less candied than the average Serge Lutens oriental.

Despite all the obviously edible (and drinkable) notes I wouldn't say Mandarine Mandarin is a full-on gourmand. It doesn't give me a yummy vibe and I don't think it sends the message of "come closer and lick my neck". It's warm and snuggly, but more in a solitary way: you, your fuzzy plaid blanket, a cup of tea and a good book. I find that Mandarine Mandarin is far more expressive in heated indoor environment and gets lost outside, especially on cold days. Like most Lutens perfumes, it has no gender and would appeal equally to men and women, though I sometimes think of it as a butchy and more somber version of Theorema.

Mandarine Mandarin is part of Serge Lutens non-export line and is only available as a bell jar (115 euro, 75ml) from the Salons du Palais Royals Shiseido in Paris. Those living in Europe can also order it online or by phone (sergelutens.com). The rest of us are still considered unworthy by Uncle Serge and co.

Art: Chinese Pot With Oranges by Carol Chambers

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