Sarrasins Serge Lutens

Source: www.scentsate.com

I dabbed a little of this exotic purple coloured scent on my arm and it looks like a faded bruise when it dries off so be careful!

Sweet indolic jasmine on a base of powdery musk. I wish it stopped there but I smell something that makes me think of hyacinths and aldehydes or what I associate with them. There's a cold and metallic element in Sarrasins devoid of emotions and that keeps you at a distance, never really warming up even after hours on skin. Austere, aloof. Two words I won't want to associate with jasmine, a much loved flower from my childhood, bringing to mind balmy tropical evenings not the slate grey skies of Sarrasins where the warmth of jasmine is held captive by the coldness of its accompanying notes. 

I find it to have a good projection and longevity on me but then I've not really had a problem with either department when it comes to Serge Lutens. Personally I prefer A La Nuit which to me is a true jasmine lover's dream, honeyed, luminous, fragrant jasmine petals, happier and less haughty than Sarrasins. 

L'Art de la Guerre Jovoy

L'Art de la Guerre. The Art of War.

It smells grey-green. Let me explain.

The opening is reminiscent of Mona di Orio's Violette Fumee's introduction on me, cold and astringent, an icy herbal. Thankfully like in Violette Fumee, the ice thaws quickly and a tart and sweet herbal scent arises through the cracks. I have never smelt fresh rhubarb but Ayala Moriel at SmellyBlog describes it as such:

 "It smelled like crisp grass, unripe berries or fruit and ozone. The latter element is what makes it every so slightly repulsive and ever so much more interesting and not at all like its earthly Swiss chard friends."

What does ozone smell like? Among my perfumed friends, it's taken to mean "airy" or "light" and interchanged with "aquatic", or as one of my more jaded friends calls it, "watered down". Besides residing as a layer above us in the atmosphere and protecting us from UV rays, ozone resides here on earth, produced by lightning strikes during storms and creating that "clean and fresh, after a rain" smell, that smells like nothing else and inspires creations such as Guerlain's Après L'Ondée, which celebrates the fine weather after a shower of rain, Arran Aromatics After the Rain, Hermes' Un Jardin après la Mousson and Annick Goutal's dewy floral Un Matin d'Orage.

So back to L'Art de la Guerre. Besides the strange tartly sweet herbaceous note that I assume is the rhubarb, I smell the unmistakable lavender and the metallic tinge of violet leaves...I was looking forward to a syrupy immortelle but I suspect it's portraying it's hay/straw-like trait here and not maple syrup, keeping L'Art de la Guerre in the style of aromatic fougère...grey-green!

It's dry down reminds me of another scent, this time Parfumerie Generale's Coze and its spiced boozy dark wood. L'Art de la Guerre has leather (lots of) instead of booze but is lightly spiced and earthy too. As the day goes on, L'Art de la Guerre becomes more mellow and easier for me to wear, I am afraid I have never been a fan of the Fougère family classic or modern, it's way too cool for a passionate soul.

Biases aside, L'Art de la Guerre smells like a thoughtfully crafted scent that comes across as sophisticated and elegant. It leaves a scent trail of about an arm's length and has a good longevity. 

L'orpheline Serge Lutens

Glacial. Incense is usually associated with warmth and comfort but in L'orpheline the incense does not cast its usual brilliant glow and the scent feels stark and cold, almost grim. If I could give it a colour, I would say it's steel. The musk is no heated up primitive musk, it is a naked musk, stripped of any emotions and not derived from anything biological. It feels sterile...spiritless.

Two notes. Musk and incense. Notes that represent or play a role in passion and celebration. Here, creating such a heavy smog of melancholy, such strangeness, such emptiness...all alone in a bleak land, the sun and moon having disappeared forever, the stars snuffed out like in W.H. Auden's poem.

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come. 

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves. 

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

L'orpheline is a stray waif, so very distant from the opulent orientals from the Serge Lutens line. Strange. Apathetic. Detached. 

After the Rain Arran Aromatics

This is my second fragrance from Arran Aromatics, Driftwood being my first acquisition, both reflecting the mission statement of the company:

"Your antidote to modern living. Apothecary draws on centuries of knowledge of essential oils and wellbeing; like lavender to bring a sense of island calm and aloe vera to heal, soothe and nourish."

An excerpt from the write up for After the Rain on the Arran Aromatics website is as follows:

 "... After the Rain was inspired by our founder Janet's desire to capture the unique, fresh scent of her Arran garden following a rain storm. An irresistibly fresh fragrance to make you feel awakened, cleansed and re-discovered, After the Rain contains essential oils of Lime, Lavandin, Mandarin, Juniper and Cardamom."

Fragrantica lists the notes as follows: Top notes are citruses and floral notes; middle notes are rose and jasmine, base notes are precious woods and musk.

So what does it smell like on me?

It smells cold. It reminds me of living in Ireland, of my weekends on the Atlantic coast with a bracing salty and icy wind clearing out my lungs and head. The grass and leaves are dark to emerald green, not the sun burnt yellow green we have here under a perennially scorching sun. The air there always smelt pure and invigorating, far away from the pollution of the big cities, with a sweetness I attributed to the nearby ocean and the flowers of the garden, flowers that can't survive in my tropical country, flowers of a thousand colours and smells. 

Irish coastline 

Where Apres l'Ondee smells of fragile dew drops balancing on delicate violet flowers, After the Rain smells robust, of trees and plants renewed after a big shower, their leaves all green and glistening with rain, the soil damp and brown, the heat rising from the earth, drawing a moist musky smell upwards, your wellies squishing in the mud as you take a deep inhale of the sweet wildflowers and watch the rays of the sun break through the grey skies above. 

The scent is linear and the notes are jumbled together but it doesn't come across as being discordant, it's refreshingly simple without being boring or common and it can't be dismissed as just another clean scent. I won't classify this as a floral scent as it is in Fragrantica, it is more of an aromatic woody scent and sits firmly in the unisex.

The sillage is good and the longevity is decent, it stays on me for about four to six hours. I highly recommend this for being unique, inexpensive and of good quality. 

Eau des Merveilles Hermes

Good morning. Today I feel pretty drained out despite it just past the 9 am mark and also being a Friday. To give you a gist, this is what I feel like :)

Cholmondeley Oudry, White Duck

I needed a pick-me-up scent today and reached for Hermes Eau des Merveilles, which I was introduced to this year and am slowly developing a taste for, being more of a dark Oriental lover than a fan of aromatic marines( I know Fragrantica lists this as an Oriental Woody but I don't find it Oriental. Woody I would accept. Maybe Aromatic Woody?).

Perfumes from Hermes are the only reason I step into the store, the coveted silk scarves being out of my financial reach(and seriously what would I do with them anyway? I work with spit and blood, not in Vogue) and the bags I developed a dislike to after seeing them on none too classy reality TV people. 

After much dithering, I left with both Eau des Merveilles and Elixir des Merveilles, just in time for a getaway in Bali. Perfect choices for an island holiday really. The Eau starts off with a citrus blast without smelling like dishwashing liquid, it smells like when you dig your fingernail into an orange. It's a bracing salty sweet scent, not like salted caramel but literally gourmet rock salt and a tad of something that is naturally sweet, I suspect it's a combination of the amber/elemi/fir. 

It's perfect for hot tropical weather and when feeling under the weather. Sillage is good on me but longevity I get about 4 hours tops before it pretty much disappears. Since I have a habit of lugging the SOTD around, that's not much of a problem for me. 

So post liberal spraying of Eau des Merveilles, I will make my foray out today, feeling a little more like this. Enjoy your Friday :)

Certain Uncertainties, Christian Vincent