Il Mondo di Odore

Bread Notes, Spices, Licorice, Apricot, Immortelle, Sandalwood, Woody Notes, Amber. Imagine Serge Lutens releasing an eccentric fragrance the likes of Jeux de Peau? I know, it's a real stretch, but that's exactly how I consider this particular scent. Jeux de Peau conjures up the image of a non-passable cross dresser since the fragrance itself is akin to a masculinized perfume for women that smells better on a man. Confused? Well, you should be because there's no doubt that I am. Have I described it as such because behind the ambiguous opening lies wood? I should think not, even though Jeux de Peau is a substantial woodie, this girl likes to flaunt it after 10 minutes on the skin. Yes my friends, under the dress there's not only trunk, but junk. Jeux de Peau opens with what smells like slightly burnt anise-infused fruit and spice. The spices, at least to me, are a combination of cinnamon and cumin and they also possess the quality of being under a heat lamp. Th...

Sandalwood, Rose, Cocoa, Tonka Bean. Anyone who has previously perused this blog knows by now that I really enjoy certain interpretations of sandalwood. The ones that don't ( or can't ) live up to expectations are ones that I  usually find some redeeming things about. As is normal for The Serge, this rendition is somewhat unconventional and not what I anticipated. That's not to say Santal Majuscule isn't viable, because it is. You simply have to think a bit outside the box. I'm quite certain that's where Serge lives. I know what the accord states is in the mix. I can truly say that if I had to smell and describe this blind, I would be off the mark. I can ( and will ) regale you with what I do perceive transpires on my skin during multiple wearings. Sandalwood? Yes, there's Sandalwood here, but it's Serge's version, so take that for what it's worth. I anticipated a dominant theme in this fragrance, but it's more of a concerted effort...

Cedarwood, Sandalwood, Mandarin Peel, Fig, Dates, Cumin, Nutmeg, Clove, Balsamic Resins, Tonka Bean, Benzoin, Myrrh. I'll give the Serge props for being one ballsy perfumer. Look at the spice-fest this scent stands to be. Not many Houses would have the audacity to brew a concoction like this. I mean really.....where does something like this fit in? The first few wearings of Arabie, I kept wondering if Aedes hadn't sent me the wrong sample because what I smelled and what I read did not jive. The "descriptions" are literally all over the map on this one and my review certainly isn't going to help matters. Arabie has 2 distinct phases on my skin and both are far removed from each other. Arabie begins its spicy and eclectic journey travelling from the east and ends rather comfortably in the land where the sun sets. One aspect I experience in Arabie that I haven't heard discussed is a leather quality. It transpires in the first half of all the wearings....

Totally worth the wait ... Four years ago I developed an immense urge to sample Fracas, the yardstick by which all other Tuberose fragrances seem to be measured. Some internet investigation revealed the existence of a few modern interpretations of this note, this being one of them. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't even manage to procure a sample of Tubéreuse Criminelle ... it was shrouded in the mystery and exclusivity of the 'bell jar' line and only available at the boutique in Paris. I eventually gave up and consoled myself with pursuing other Tuberose avenues until I heard a few months ago that it had finally become available in the export line and would soon be arriving at my local niche perfumery. I finally had the chance to try and buy two days ago ... To be quite honest, when a fragrance is as hyped up as this one I am generally let down when I get to smell it. Not exactly a disappointment, I do find Tubéreuse Criminelle to be less than what I ...

Rose, Chamomile, Geranium, Lychee, Honey, Gaiac Wood, Vanilla. The Serge, who I usually associate with eccentric ideas and results, has created something here that is normal personified. Sa Majeste La Rose is also an extremely good rendition in spite of being a fairly straightforward fragrance. I genuinely didn't experience conventional transitions except for the appearance of honey in extended drydown. The opening is a concerted effort of Rose and a realistic green stem quality. This aspect of Sa Majeste La Rose continues on throughout the life of the scent and only relents once drydown and beyond transpire. Others may experience a bit more diversity than I, but I'm not complaining. I suppose I expected more wood and the customary Vanilla finish by looking at the accords. It wasn't to be however and this particular Lutens creation treated me to a deep and lucid Rose instead. The Rose rendition is full bodied and seems to become a tad denser as the wearings go on....

Bergamot, Tea, Ginger, Cinnamon, Woods, Patchouli, Honey, Pepper, Dark Cocoa, Amber. What I've found extremely interesting ( and enjoyable ) about the opening of Five O'Clock Au Gingembre is that everything but the cocoa and amber come rushing out of the bottle on the initial blast. The citrus, spice and earth tones are readily apparent, fairly substantial and display clarity.. There's a suggestion of wood which I presume is coming from the combination of patchouli and amber, but I could be remiss. The spicy ginger and soft tea note are centered  during the initial stages and the accent provided by a dark rendition of cinnamon is a nice touch. There's a semi sweet quality with resin in there as well and as the scent progresses, the resin becomes a bit more noticeable. I suppose this is the result of amber working it's way into the heart accord and within 10 minutes, all obvious notes have merged to form a personality. I imagine that some people feel this i...

Green Note, Fruit Note, Jasmine, Osmanthus, Carnation, Lily, Muscs, Almond, Wood, Honey. After wearing this a few times, I've concluded that Nuit de Cellophane smells pleasant, but it opens like a hair care product. I can't put my finger on it exactly, but I'm certain I've used a shampoo that is strikingly similar. I'm not one to use the same hair cleanser repeatedly, but I remember the aroma it left after rinsing and Nuit de Cellophane nails it. I didn't bring that up to denigrate the fragrance. This is a clean floral woody, but I cannot help the association with shampoo. I wish I could remember which one it was. Regardless, Nuit de Cellophane resembles it in the opening and heart accords before morphing just enough to separate itself from that comparison. There are worse things ( for sure ) than smelling like you just finished washing your follicles for a short while. Nuit de Cellophane begins to transition away from this after about 15 minutes. Th...

Olibanum, Marine Notes, Musk, Vetiver, Mint. I have to say that this is even a weird one for The Serge to release. I can't say it's a "good" weird because I would be lying. I'd also miss the mark if I said it was horrible, so somewhere in between that enormous landscape falls L'Eau Froide. What immediately strikes me is the neutrality of the incense rendition and the interplay of mint. Rather than the suggestion of "cold", I get an accord that is seemingly disinterested in me, if that were possible. This is truly aloof and I detect no metallic agenda which normally affords me that perception. The opening on me is the minty incense. It becomes more focused in the first 10 minutes or so before any transitions begin. This isn't smoky either, which I find a bit strange and somehow the incense is identifiable as such, but without the usual trappings of haziness. There is a balsamic quality to the accord which seems to bind the menthol and ince...

Lavender, Amber, Tonka Bean, Iris, Wood, Incense. It's always amusing reading reviews of The Serge's creations. His appeal is apparently enough to warrant a prodigious output, yet the opinions cover the entire spectrum. Why should Gris Clair be any different? The "house feel" is evident in the opening and I get this somewhat weird chewing gum-lavender shaving cream vibe. It is extremely short lived and quickly transitions to a more conventional lavender. There's also a grainy quality assimilated with the dominant lavender note. This could be attributed to some resin and woodiness, but with The Serge, who's to say for certain? One thing is for sure and that is that Gris Clair isn't your run of the mill lavender frag. The next transition exposes Gris Clair as the lavender woody it really is. A smokiness gradually becomes more pronounced and reveals a charring that isn't from a recent event. It's akin to something burned in the past and you ...

Cedarwood, Violet Leaves, Flowers. So many Lutens have that effervescent quality in their openings and Bois de Violette is no exception. Some of them come off as a hairspray accord on my skin, but happily BdV isn't one of them. Woody violet? Yes it is, but you must remember that this is the world according to Serge and his interpretations aren't along the same lines as convention. Bois de Violette is sweet overall, but stops short of becoming too much of a good thing. I can image some will find this scent molto dolce, yet I believe it's properly tuned and more in line with a feminine fragrance. There's also a leathery quality to Bois de Violette. I get the impression of a subtle iris-labdanum combo in the works. Yes, I'm aware it's not listed, but I still smell it and it is more pronounced than the wood accord from the very beginning. After 5 minutes, I am persuaded that a more appropriate name for this very nice fragrance would have been Cuir de Vio...

Sandalwood, Cypress, Vetiver, Patchouli, Opoponax. Un Bois Sepia doesn't possess what I would call a great opening. At least to me, it smells nothing like I would expect from a perfume in this price range. It's rather ordinary and far removed from anything associated with being decadent. This doesn't mean I don't like it or that Un Bois Sepia is without merit. Sure, this has been around long enough for numerous opinions to be in the books. Most seem to be of the dislike variety, but I don't share that sentiment after wearing this 3 times. I also don't love it in spite of my affinity for woodies. I get the impression while wearing this that it's not quite finished. I keep thinking that as the wearings get to the base and drydown stages, Un Bois Sepia is going to veer off in another direction by adding an element or two to the progression. It never does and I would have liked it to. Much more masculine than anticipated, Un Bois Sepia implements an ...

Musk, Amber, Cedarwood, Cinnamon, Tuberose. In the past, I have read the reviews on Cedre and recall some of them mentioning Tuberose as a complimentary note to the cedar. On my skin however, this is all about Tuberose from the initial spray. I find the name a bit misleading as I was expecting a definitive woody instead of a floral creation. Don't get me wrong in thinking that all I perceive is tuberose. It's simply the dominant note, however a very good rendition. The blended combination of musk, wood and spice really seems to accentuate the tuberose like wind to a sail. The fragrance itself leans more feminine to my nose than anything and I chalk that up to the assertively floral direction Cedre takes. The tuberose note is just loud enough to supplant the others and categorizes this Lutens as more of a spicy floral with woody attributes. After a few wearings, Cedre doesn't possess any real transitions. It opens already unfolded on my skin and that's not a ...

Mysore Sandalwood, Cumin, Spices, Styrax Balsam, Carmelized Siamese Benzoin. Cinn-umin , Cinn-umin, get your Cinn-umin right here folks. Ah yes.....The Serge strikes again with his eclectic rendition of spicy wood. You'll have to excuse me if I liken The Serge to Doctor Strangelove. It's apparent that he thinks on a different plane than your average parfumeur. Santal de Mysore begins with a hybrid cumin-cinnamon that's slightly burnt. I also get that phantom hairspray aura surrounding the opening, but that quickly fades into oblivion. The spice notes are eye opening but not offensive. I have become somewhat fond of them actually, but it took a few wearings to adjust to the fantasy that is Serge. His unconventional approach and creations are his children and it's safe to say the apple falls directly beneath the tree. It takes Santal de Mysore about 15 minutes to unravel itself from the opening and reveal its woody character. When it does, a very good, somewhat ...

Amber is a metaphor in perfumery. Many casual perfume users appear to think that amber stone is somehow implicated, but it is not. Although both amber (fossilized tree resin) and ambergris (a concretized substance excreted from the intestines of sperm whales) used to wash up on the shore and so were sometimes confused, perfumers have not been able to make much use of amber stone in their work because it does not create the scent which they seek. In creating an amber effect , there is no single substance in nature which perfumers collect up to melt, distill, condense, and extract essences from in order to build a perfume. No, what we refer to as amber is constructed, often of labdanum, benzoin, and vanillin, but other components are sometimes used as well, and these may be combined in varying proportions to produce distinctive interpretations of amber. Still, there is something, a specific type of scent, to which the term amber refers in perfumery, though it is not a ...

Hay, Amber, Sweet Tobacco, Sandalwood, Russian Leather, Moroccan rose, Tuscan Iris, White honey. Reading up on Chergui by Lutens will permit you to find diverse note listings. Almost every site has a different set of accords and as such, I decided to list the above as none of that holds much water anyway. The proof is in the smell. Only recently have I purchased a sample, so I can assume that what I am reviewing is most likely the newest formula. I would like to start out by saying that Chergui has terrific presence and an envious swirl effect. The opening of Chergui is an excellent earthy amber that doesn't display a resinous side just yet. The tobacco integrates within a few minutes and the result is a semi sweet, decadent ambacco accord. There's a spicy aspect to Chergui that offsets the opening nicely. It's a mellow spice and its existence is realized about 5 minutes into the wearing. It's about this stage of transition that I admit to Chergui already be...

Okay......let's peruse through some of the remarks on this particular scent. I've been reading them for years and have put off smelling this because of them. I'm not one who runs to smell something described as rigor mortis of the taint. This is deliciously naughty. Someone who smelled it on a tissue said it smelled like poo. Maybe just a hint but mixed in with so many other things, it doesn't matter.   If ever there were a scent that smelled like Bigfoot's penis, this would be IT. OK....Tried it once, read the reviews, decided to go back in all fairness and try it again before giving everybody a bad day...so, don't say I didn't try...I love sex just as much, or probably more, than the next guy...I mean that really dirty sex, piggy sex, get down and withit sex...in August-no-airconditioning-and- about-four-hours-into-a-marathon-stay-at-home-afternoon-and-on-the-third-go-around kind of sex, sex...so when I say something is skanky, nasty, nothin I woul...

Could this be happening? A Lutens that actually works on me? This is my 4th wearing of Chene because I had to be sure. I have been rather frustrated with this house for quite some time ( with the exception of Borneo ) and I assume the law of averages is working its magic. Oak baby. Yes.....this is a different type of woody, but very wearable. Granted, it doesn't wear like my other more conventional woodies, but there's nothing conventional about this house. Anytime I sample-wear a Lutens, I normally use the entire vial via multiple wearings. I do this because the first wearing is usually off putting to me and I need to see if I can come around and have a change of mind and heart. One must give a scent a fighting chance if you're going to be fair about it. The initial sampling of Chene left me undecided and rather unimpressed.........however, I was not put off by any means. Oak is a wood note not very prominent in the releases I've tried or purchased. Cedar, Rosewood a...

Have you ever encountered a particular house that numerous people love and all that house has ever done for you ( with an occasional exception ) was bust your chops? Ah yes.........Serge Lutens......Eccentricities personified and creator of some flat-out weird juice. There's something about the house notes and/or accords that almost always come off (to my nose)  as a hairspray accord. I find it EXTREMELY annoying and I'm quite certain the problem is on my end. I guess I'll just never love anything from this house. For the record, I find Borneo a very good release and on par with the likes of Coromandel. That aside, Serge Noire is yet another strange brew with the patented hairspray aura. It's very linear and the clash of cinnamon against black woods is ....well.....disjointed, but somehow it has me smelling my wrist repeatedly. It's like these 2 notes are forced against their will to be joined together. There's patchouli in here as well, but it's buried...

Why 'o' why does this house annoy me more than please me? Can someone be too niche for their own good? So many offerings and so many misses lead me to believe that a Lutens may never end up in my wardrobe. I have liked a few offerings and in spite of "the few" being bottle worthy (IMO), I'm never "moved" to pull the trigger on this house. Enter Un Bois Vanille and it's mystery wood component. Why did they not call this Coconilla? Is this a pleasant scent? Yes, to me it is. Is it special? No, it is not. Un Bois Vanille is an overpriced rendition of coconut and vanilla that eventually gives way to a wood so anemic that it couldn't give a carpenter's apprentice a splinter. Coconut. Vanilla. Almost imperceptible wood. There you have it. You can pay top dollar if you want to. I have better things to do with my money.

Le Labo Patchouli 24 vs. Comme des Garcons Luxe: Patchouli Patchouli 24 goes on smelling less of patchouli and more of smoke. This particular version of the surprisingly numerous birch-tar bonfire genre smells strongly to my nose of the charcoal people use to the BBQ with, but thankfully, Le Labo saves us the roasting meat ( yes, that's a nod to you, Lonestar Memories ). There's a petrochemical edge, here, too, as though you can still smell the gasoline used to set it on fire. The drydown, however, leads to something much more pleasant. The patchouli finally comes out from hiding, and it's a soft, cushion-like thing given a pleasant, lightly smoky edge. The longevity is less than I expect from a patchouli, but decent, and the same goes for the sillage. Luxe: Patchouli is another beast entirely. The top notes are very pleasantly peppery and smoky, but very brief, as almost immediately the immortelle leaps forward and dominates the blend through the heart notes....