A scent for sadness

My grandpa, Jakob Sigurðsson, and myself

In everybodys life there are ups and downs. Some days are good, some great, other not so good. There are times when whatever is pulling you down can be successfully shrugged off, maybe by go seeing a friend, read a couple of blogs or have a long hot bath. And there are occasions when it's not so easy. Sometimes, sadness must be met head on. You have to embrace it and let it do it's thing because then, and only then, it'll pass.

I had a bout of the latter kind a while ago, as my grandfather passed away. It wasn't unexpected, he'd been very ill for a long time, but still, when death actually strikes, it's always devestating. All of a sudden the livliness of floral and fruity scents felt wrong. Gourmands, especially the sweeter ones, I couldn't stand at all as I'm the kind of person who looses apetite when sad. Loud, dramatic scents with a lot going on in them were just too much, I had enough of issues of my own. I tried going scentless, but that didn't feel right either. I wanted something. An olfactory equivalent of a funeral dress. Something functional and no-fuss to get me through the day without demanding any attention.

And what kind of a scent would that be? There was one that came to mind. It was released earlier this year and when I first tried it, back in February, I didn't think much of it. But now, under these new circumstances, there was something about it that kept tugging at my sleeve. I had a try. And yes, Serge Lutens L'Eau Froide did hit the spot.

It starts out with grapefruit. But there is no sun kissed Florida goodness here. When I say grapefruit I mean grapefruit zest of grapefruits 20 years ago. Before ruby was the norm and your face puckered up at every bite. On top of that I get a mint, but it's compeltely stripped of all its herby facets. Only the cold is left.

There came a card with my sample and, if I remember correctly, it said that L'Eau Froide smelles like cold water running through rusty pipes. That is a very accurate description of how the scent moves on. There is water, metal and cold, and that's it. There is supposed to be somali incense in there but as that's not a note I'm familiar with so unfortunately I can't pick it out.

If I'd envision L'Eau Froide as a person it would be as a stiff and solemn old fashioned butler. One who keeps a respectful distance but still is always ready to do whatever needs to be done, day after day after day, without ever letting the tiniest inch of personal emotion slip out through his face. He might never smile but he got me through days when my body felt numb with grief and my mind was so muddled I compeltely lost track of what I'd actually been been saying and doing, thought about saying and doing and dreamt I'd said and done. Thankfully I'm through the worst of it now, the flowers have regained their colors and the food has taste again. I wouldn't call L'Eau Froide either joyful or adventurous but it stood by me when I mostly needed it - and for that I'll be forever greatful.


Images: Fragrantica and my own.

Sa Majeste la Rose - Serge Lutens

I seem to be on a bit of a rose spree right now. Possibly, it has to do with the weather, I remember I was into roses at this time, last year, as well. Few raw materials gives me such a width of visions as rose scents. There are so many fragrances, yet they all manage to be so different. There are freshly sprung morning roses, complete with dew drops and a garden. There are pale pink shabby chic/country living/dainty teacup roses that are very nice indeed but somehow lack a lower body. There are the smoldering incense roses. Heavyweight Middle Eastern roses. Dark roses. Blood roses.

One excellent rose scent is Serge Lutes Sa Majeste la Rose. This is an almost rose soliflore (is there a technical term for "almost soliflore", I'd love to know), smelling first and foremost of rose with a skeletal background of other notes adding context and spine.

The intro is rose and rose alone. When applied super light it smells very natural, like smelling a rose on its stem in a garden. At the same time heady, innocent and sweet. But whenever wearing more than a single drop another facet comes out to play. Suddenly the scent toggles between its original pretty rosyness and something oily and metallic. The effect is the same as the picture on the right. Just as you either see the beautiful young girl or the old woman, but not both at the same time, I either get the pretty side or the metallic side of Sa Majeste la Rose, but not both. I find this type of olfactory dynamics very interesting, it makes me think of the mad genius stereotype. A person who's brilliant in some ways but also ravinly insane in others.

But oily metal is not something that should be done in excess, and fortunately it does fade, after a while. As Sa Majeste la Rose develops a luxurious honey note reveals itself. The honey somehow warms and opens up the rose, removes every trace of innocence. At this point we've got a sultry, sexy little thing, someone waiting in anticipation for her lover to arrive. And he sure does. As we're moving toward the dry down a note of gaiac wood emerges. I interpert it as very masculine and absolutely gorgeous. First time I noticed it I immediately assumed that it had to be something a male coworker was wearing. Which was odd, as I'd never noticed that any of them wear perfume before, ever. Who'd have believed they'd this good taste? Then I realised it was all me ;)

So, I enjoy Sa Majeste la Rose a lot. It's great for summer and it manages to sport just the right amount of interesting backdrops while still staying in the "lighter rose" category. A great feature is that it comes across very differently depending on how much is applied. It can be perfectly appropriate for work if applied lightly and more suited for ... other occasions when using more.

Offical notes: Moroccan rose absolute, gaiac wood, clove, white honey, musk

Scents my husband hates

This weekend me and my little girl have been home alone, My not-so-little boy is off to granny and my husband is off with his mates on their annual all-guys golf trip to Spain. About my husband, he hardly ever comments on the scents I'm wearing, neither in a positive or negative way but there is this one note that I know he absolutely hates - patchouli. So I figuered this weekend would be a great time to get out my patchoulies and take them for a test drive.

The first one I've been wearing is a scent that's also, in my household, known as "that smell". My husband picks it out anywhere, on anyone, because he hates with a passion. Since he's done this since long before I became interested in perfume I haven't really given it a chance. It's a very well known perfume and I don't think you can pretend to be a perfumista without having at least tried it on a couple of times. So, I dropped by at my local KICKS, and since I was in a hurry and had my biggest and thickest winter jacket on, the only bare patch of skin I could find in a jif was my decollage, so I went for it and big splash of .... Angel.

I'd really hoped I'd dislike Angel, considering my husbands opinions on it, but no such luck. The sensation of then sitting in a commuter train and have that...thing...whafting up on me from under my clothes invoked a giggly, exhilarated feeling, a similar one I imagine a flasher might have, walking around before the actual flashing, thinking about what a surprise those innocent bystanders would have if they found out what he was wearing underneath his trenchcoat. Except, with a sillage like that the whole train car probably had a very clear picture about what I was wearing beneath my clothes with no need to take them off. Hereafter, Angel will be my own secret little pleasure to indulge in whenever husband's out of town.

And I also feel disqualified to write about what it smells like, because it smells like SO MUCH and I've just tried it this once, but please head over to  the Candy Perfume Boy who has an excellent review here.

Björn Borg

Next day I tried on ELdO s Nombril Immense. Another love that I feel is not getting the attention it deserves. The way I perceive it there are two antagonist sides, there is the an obnoxious, mothbally and penetrating patchouli set against soft, sweet balm of Peru. The dynamics of NI makes me think of a tennis match featuring Swedish tennis legend Björn Borg, wearing the colors of the patchouli because of his hairdo and alleged accusations of drug abuse. He's playing against someone I can't say because I don't know any other tennis players, sorry! In this game they look like they are be competing but it's really just a show. They're doing this in order to set each other off, look like they're engaged in a struggle but it's really just a convenient way of looking good in front of girls. I'm not sure if my rantings here makes sense to anyone, but it's a scent I enjoy wearing, nonetheless.

And then, no test round of patchoulis would be complete without Chanels Coromandel. Coromandel is one of the very few scents (I can count 3) that my husband has asked me not to wear when I'm near him. And I'm "????????" How anyone can NOT like Coromandel? But the intro can be a bit overpowering. Think about a spot where your local wicca coven might meet at full moon midnights to harvest the mandrakes needed in their rituals (see the top picture). The roots are ripped from the soil, leaving big black gaping holes in the ground. Coromandel starts like what one of those holes migh smell like. Wet, damp and very black soil. But then it changes...a lot. The patchouli calms down and along comes chocolate and vanilla, the whole concoction morphs into dessert bliss from heaven. If there is any one perfume that I'd like to see rendered as an ice cream flavour it's Coromandel. Seriously, it would be so neat to have a perfume themed dessert parlour. With Fils de Dieu Rice Pudding, Coromandel and Bois et Fruit ice cream and a few more flavours for caramel I'm close to have skeleton for an actual menu :)

Last of the patchoulis is Serge Lutens Borneo 1834. It has taken me a while to "get" this one, when I first smelled it it was to weird and bitter but now it's awsome. To me, this one is the cosiest, most relaxed scent of the ones I've written about today, it's also the one where the patchouli is most integrated with everything else. It starts out with lots and lots of tobacco. Then comes along that warm and steamy note, the same one that's present in Fumerie Turque and for a very short while in the intro of Boxeuses. In a very no-frills way Borneo 1834 smells like walking around in a small Asian country-side village. It's hot, the humidity is extreme, you can smell the dirt on the roads and the wood the huts are made of. Someone is burning old palm leaves far away, the smoke barly detectable. As it wears it sweetens and it moves toward cocoa. But it's not the obvious chocolate you get from Coromandel, this is unrefined cocoa, dark and raw, complete with a hint of camphor. Righ now, I feel like I could wear Borneo 1834 forever.

In all I have immensly enjoyed my weekend. I often set up goals like "this week I'm only going to wear citruses", or "lets have a Sonoma Scent Studio Marathon this weekend", but this is the only time I've gone through with something like that. Usually I do one scent and then I'm craving something completely differet. But the patchoulis are so NICE. I've felt relaxed and calmed. As the weather is bad I've mostly stayed at home, relaxing, thinking and playing wth my daughter, and the introverted, meditative feel of patchouli has been a great backdrop to that.


Photoes: D-addicts, Gaygroom, American Folcloric Witchcraft Blog

Recap Winter 2012

Finally we've had a few days of non-freezing temperature. It's not yet spring but still a step in the right direction. This has made me reach for a whole new sets of perfumes, colognes, light florals and even some fruity ones. So, lets do a recap of Winter 2012, before we forget all about it. 

My top 3 most used for perfumes during the winter of 2012:

Ormonde Woman by Ormonde Jayne - Conjures an image  of dark green fir trees covered in snow. Cool, delicate and severe at the same time. The scent of an elf queen during winter.

Santal de Mysore, Serge Lutens - It took me some time to "get" this one, the first few tries I could only smell wine barrels. Now it's a cornucopia of gourmet notes like chocolate and mint, spice notes like curry and cumin and above all, divine Mysore sandalwood. Funny thing is, when I made my husband try it, it mostly smelled like coconut!

28 La Pausa, Chanel les Exclusifs - Very hard to describe, it feels like adding an (much needed) aura of exclusivity and refinement whenever I wear it. If there ever was such a thing as class in a bottle, 28 La Pausa would be it.

Top trends:

Evergreens - not your regular "green" scents at all, but somehow with a dark,  green, near teal, feel to them. I do mentally place Ormonde Woman in this category along with Mandy Afteliers sweet and heart warming Fir and Chanels, cooler,  Sycomore.

Orientals - they're soft, warm and spicy, in other words, the best thing to battle winter with. Some much used favorites have been Serge Lutens Chergui and Chanel Bois des Iles.

Cool Iris - if fighting the cold does not seem like an option, join it. Some great options here are (the already mentioned) 28 la Pausa, Serge Lutesns Iris Silver Mist (interesting how I got more damp soil, roots and blood during summer, in winter is all about etheral metallic cold) and the soft and super feminine L'Eau d'Hiver by Frederic Malle.

New acquired tastes:

And, yes, one of the most fun things with having perfumes as a hobby is you think you know it all, "I love this, I hate that, yada yada" and then comes along a fragrance that proves you utterly wrong. For me, two notes that I didn't use to like but now have started to crave RE aldehydic cleanness and pepper. Aldehydic cleanness (I'm lacking a proper name here) is that sharp, scrubbed, slightly chemical clean note that make your eyes widen and at least I think "Should I really be inhaling this?". It's present in the top note of Frederic Malles Iris Poudre and it's in Aldehyde 44 by Le Labo.

Another new friend of mine is pepper. I used to think it was a bit to much, to sharp and not something I liked to smell in a perfume. No more. I now love how it adds character to the top notes of most of the Ormonde Jayne scents and how it's used to create contrast over time in Le Labos Poivre 23.



Image: Free-desktop-backgrounds.net

Comparing the 3 lavenders of Serge Lutens

First time I tried Serge Lutens Forreau Noir (click link for full review) I fell in love with it and since then, every time I've wore it, it just gets better. The intro kicks me in the stomach, in a good way. It's cool, has just the right amount of masculinity I feel comfortable wearing in a perfume and it's dirty as some random guy flashing himself to you in the subway during rush hour (yes, that did happen to me recently). I've also recently started to pick out a Swedish candy named Lakrisal in there. If I'll ever allow mysef a bell jar, this one is at the very top of my list!

But Uncle Serge does have other scents with lavender as well, there are Encens et Lavande and Gris Clair. Be sure, they are all worth trying and are very far from what comes to mind when thinking of the lavender potpourries found in grannys closet.

Encens et Lavande approaches the lavender from a very different angle than FN. Where FN is full of sweet gourmand notes as vanilla and caramel EetL is not. If I'm going to summarize EetL in three adjectives, it's dry, green and savoury. Fragrantica only lists 2 notes in EetL,  incense and lavender. The incense is a massively green and herby one. To me, it's magical and ever changing, its building blocks seem to be rearranging themselves constantly. What I one second interpretes as incense smells like sage, oregano and juniper the next.

Gris Clair I strongly associate with a February morning. You wake up, the air is crisp, clean and has that wintery dryness about itself. When looking out the window you see frozen fields, touched by frost, stretching out in all directions.

My first try was while wearing a bikini on the beach on my Cretan holiday a few weeks back. In that setting, GC was wrong. But, back in Sweden, I've been wearing it a lot. It is rather similar to Forreau Noir, in fact I view it as a weekday version of FN. The smoke and gourmand notes of FN are all gone, the vanilla is less prominent while the dryness of the lavender is the same. In order to get an even more strict and formal feel, GC has had some iris added to the blend.

I've worn GC for work every day this week and I'm finding it to be an amazing work scent. It's strict with a proffessional feel to it. That initial hint of masculinity feels appropriate, maybe because the role I have at work is one that is normally very male dominated. I know, my intro says I'm a sommelier. I am, as I do have a sommerlier degree but that's not where the money comes from. I am ... now brace yourself...I'll just mention this once and then never talk about it on this blog again...ok, now...I'm a Java programmer. And GC is perfect for that.

For more reviews, see:
The Non-Blonde: Fourreau Noir, Gris Clair,
From Top To Bottom: Encense et Lavande

Notes according to Fragrantica:
Forreau Noir: lavender, tonka, almond, musk
Encense et Lavande: incense and lavender
Gris Clair: lavender, iris, tonka, amber and wood

Images: http://www.flowerpicturegallery.com,  http://www.galileo.org

My holiday in Greece

Magrigialos, Crete

Ages ago me and my husband booked a holiday on Crete for this October and last week it was finally time to go. The vacation started with a patch of uphill though. The Greeks are very unhappy about the saving actions their governemty is taking and dicided to manifest this in a huge strike the day before our planned arrival. We thought we'd just escape but when we came to the airport it was announced that the Greek airport personnel hadn't arrived to work yet but would probably showed up later during the day(!)

But an airport isn't the worst place to be stranded if yuo're into perfume. I got to explore the perfume counters there for 4 hours. I remember sampling Prada Candy and Shalimar with flankers and liking them all but most of the time I spent chasing my 1 y.o. girl who is also into perfume, but more along the lines of displacing the bottles, licking them or running away with them...

But after that things went smooth. October is a great time to visit the Mediterrainian. The weather was warm enough to wear shorts and a t-shirt but not as scorching as it can be during hight summer. The sea was still warm enough for swimming. We had one day of rain and thunder but we just cozied up indoors, watching some amazing lightenings over the sea.

Before going I had planned to pack all my favorite summer scents, but when the time came to actually pack I felt "I've been wearing those for all summer, I'm sick of them,. I want something else", and I went for a little bag of not very much tried Serge Lutens samples.

The ones I wore (in order for how suitable I found them to be on a beach holiday) were:

A la Nuit - the winner of the week. Absolutely stunning! Starts off with a big blast of dirty white flowers and then gently settles into a great rendition of jasmine. We had real blooming jasmine on the premises and they smelled gergous, but, I have to say, "A la Nuit" smelled better! And, as an unexpected bonus, it worked perfectly with the coconut scented soap our hotel provided in all bathrooms.

Fleurs d'Oranger - a naugty little orange blossom sticking out her toungue. I don't love this one as a lot of others seem do, but it did make me smile.

Ambre Sultan - vanilla and oregano, who would have thought that they make such a stunning match? I'm dying to try this combo in ice cream, I bet it would turn out very unique. About the perfume,  I will have to try this one many many more times before I'm anywhere ready to write a review.

Claire de Musc - a very wearable, non-dirty musk. Liked it. Don't know what more to say.

Douce Amère - smells like the taste of those little sugar coated fennel seeds you get at Indian restaurants after finishing your meal. A disappointment. It's not that it smells bad, it's just that I 'd expected something more of the absinthe and anise. Meek and inoffensive.

Fille en Aiguilles - I love it on my husband but any more than a fraction of a drop on myself gets very tiresome. This one is now labeled "his".

Claire Gris - absolutely lovely but very strange on someone wearing a bikini on the beach. Smokey lavender, half masculine. Short listed for winter.

Miel de Bois  - dolled up ear wax. Note to self: Don't ever try this one again!


So, what happened more? I do complain a lot how, as I live in Sweden, never have the chance to smell lots of those plants frequently used in perfumesry. So now I thought I should really use the opportunity to smell as much as I possibly could. The biggest revelation was fig. I had no idea how those trees can scent up a whole street! I finally do understand why fig perfumes smell the way they do :) And those jasmines I've already mentioned. So many times i thought, what is that perfume? And every time there were some of those little white flowers somewhere with in reach...




pic: www.amazingcrete.com

Finding my way through the woods - comparing the Serge Lutens boises

So quickly, my apartment has turned quiet again. Husband is back to work after his holiday. My son is back at pre-school. My baby girl is having a nap (I don't know if she technically is a baby any more, she turned one a month ago, but anyway). At the same time the weather has been getting chillier. All of a sudden there is autumn in the air.

So, now I'm going to write about some perfumes that I feel have a somewhat autumnal feel to them, namely the Serge Lutens boises. I've been comparing 5 of them, namely:

• Bois Oriental
• Bois et Musc
• Bois et Fruits
• Bois de Violette
• Shiseido Feminité du Bois

The first four all came in 1992 and rely on the same cedary base. I find it hard to describe, but there is sunny wood, sweet fruits (I'm getting raspberry or blackberry jam and quinces) and resin, blended to perfection. Anyone who is serious about perfumes should try at least one of these once.

Bois Oriental

This scent The Perfumed Court touts as a "Gateway Serge Lutens". The reason for that is that the woody cedar base is a lot less intense, I'd say there is about half of it, compared to the other scents. Instead there is a big component of sweet vanilla added. I have to say, this is my least favourite. I really like that woody part, smelling it makes me think of talking a walk in a magical forest I know and love. But all that vanilla, it feels like there is a sticky sweet fog obscuring everything worth seeing. This one is not for me.

Bois et Musc

Do ware panthers pee in the wood?

This one consists of 2 main tracks. There is the good old cedar base and a hefty dose of musk. The musk is faint at first, but grows stronger and in the end overtakes the cedar, as the musk is very long lived.
I've reviewed this one before and I wrote something about "feminine musk" and "a great scent to wear to the office". I must have had a massive cold or possibly suffered from some temporal sort of brain damage that day. That musk is pure animal and lands somewhere between blackberries and cat pee. It's similar to that "after shave" note found in Muscat wines. Everyone who has smelled Muscs Koublai Khan will know what I mean. So, I just want to make this clear - please try before wearing to the office...

Bois et Fruits

Here the fruity parts of the cedar base have been amped up. That means A LOT of raspberries, blackberries and quinces. The fruits are all on the sweet and jammy side, creating a cheery and youngish feeling concoction. I wear this one when I want to smile. I have reviewed it before and I don't feel there is that much to add. The old review can be found here.

Bois de Violette

Another great one, I love to wear this one when I'm feeling a bit introspective and dreamy. Here the cedar is matched by violets, creating a darker but still very beautiful forest. This one I've also reviewed before, the review can be found here.

Shiseido Feminité du Bois

Now, here is a real woman. This one makes the others look like teenagers going through phases, not having found themselves yet. Feminité du Bois is the classiest, sexiest most elegant scent I've come across in a very long time. The cedary base in this one is different, I can't say exactly what is the difference. It's similar to the others, but when comparing them wrist to wrist there is a notable difference.

I'm not sure about the connection between this one and the others. As far as I understand (and correct me if I'm wrong) Shiseido Feminité du Bois is the forerunner, created by Christopher Sheldrake and Pierre Bourdon before the Serge Lutens perfume brand was born. There is a "Feminité du Bois" launched under the Serge Lutens brand as well but it seems like the formula is slightly different according to random Internet sources. I haven't tried the Serge Lutens version myself so I can't really say.

What I can say is that the SFdB is true magic! This is a fairy forest at it's sunniest and most intense. There is a lot of fruit there and I think the most prominent one is plum. If you've been watching True Blood, I'm also thinking of the glowing lumiere fruits. The downside of eating them is that you loose track of time but as long as you get to stay in Fairy and smell like this, I don't see this as a problem. I also get a hint of leather and spices that I don't get from the others. Overall SFdB is more of a skin scent, inviting people in. And it's up to you to use the fairy powers in SFdB to decide if you're ever going to let them go again.

Special thanks to Ines for sending me the sample of Shiseido Feminité du Bois

Pics: trueblood.wikia.com

Iris Silver Mist by Serge Lutens

Scents inspire me like nothing else. When I try on a scent I get all full of ideas, I see pictures in my head, I think of music, sounds, food, stories, you name it. Iris Silver Mist is a Serge Lutens cult classic. It has been reviewed many times by people who know a lot more about perfume than I do. It's also the scent I get the strongest feelings/pictures about. I've been working this review for a while as wanted to find the right words. I'm realising I probably never will, so here goes my take on Iris Silver Mist.

Imagine you were alive some hundred years ago. Maybe you were a young man, forced to go out to fight in a war that's now long forgotten. Nobody bothered to give you any training and proper equipment. Before you knew it you were lying face down on the battlefield, bones broken, life bleeding out of you. Or maybe you were a young girl living at the same time, one day strange armed men showed up at your house, took you away into the forest, they mutilated and raped you just for the fun of it and left you do die alone in the woods.

After spending hours, maybe days, in utter agony there comes a time when the pain starts to fade. The soul is finally slipping away from the body. Death is reaching out her mighty hands towards you and you're only relieved to see her, happy to return her embrace.

That very moment, when still feeling Mother Earth against your body, breathing in the scent of her soil and roots, mud and grass, fertilized with your own blood. You can also smell what is about to come, there is airy incense with a hint of spices. At that very moment of transition, that is the smell of Iris Silver Mist.

This is a masterpiece of a perfume. It manages to be earthy and ethereal at the same time. It's very sad but also hopeful. It's the best scent I know of to wear when I'm feeling sad. It grounds me, comforts me and at the same time promises that things are going to be better. I love it and I'm rating this at least 5 out of 5.

Artwork by Robert M. Place

Pouring my heart out (negativity warning)

I've had a lousy week here, lots of family issues; grandfather is very ill, I have plane tickets to go see him in a couple of weeks, but he might not hang on for that long. My parents are going through a divorce, which means lots of old dirt is coming up to the surface, so to say. All of this is affecting me a lot, bringing me down. And always, when I don't feel good, I tend to make the worst decisions in all aspects of my life, perfume included.

Two days ago I wanted something that would pick me up so I tried Acqua di Parma Blu Mediterraneos Bergamotto di Calabria. It's lemons and bergamot on a bed of ginger, vetivier and cedar. It did not work. Those lemony notes felt like they were just grating and grating and grating on my brain all day. Unfortunately the scent was pretty weak so I managed to wash it off.

Yesterday I tried Ormonde Jaynes Sampaquita. I thought it would be an undemanding generic floral bouquet type of thing. Maybe not that special, but if nothing else, a nice smelling little thing to wear throughout the day. I felt as wearing a hedgehog inside my clothes. An unlikely scenario, but uncomfortable nonetheless.

But one thing I managed to get right and that was randomly putting on a jacket that was smelling enough of Pradas Infusion d' Iris to block out most of the Sampaquita residues. I didn't know I was craving iris myself but it perfectly hit the spot. Iris is a note I find very difficult to describe. You either know what it smells like or you don't. There is no generic "rooty" term for notes coming from roots (or from synthetics pretending to be roots) like there is "floral" or "fruity".

Iris also happens to be my daughters middle name. I didn't name her primarily after a perfume note, it is a girls name in most of Europe (and in other English speaking countries), isn't it? We have a silly little tradition in my family, starting with me, that girls middle names are flowers. My middle name is Soley, which means buttercup in Icelandic, and my daugther got Iris.

Anyway, today, I'm not taking any chances with how I smell. Scent of the day is SL Iris Silver Mist and things are already feeling a little better.

Fourreau Noir by Serge Lutens

Another day, another Serge.

Fourreau Noir starts out masculine with notes of ashy lavender and dusty vanilla set against a backdrop of smoke that varying between the burning of fresh wood, charcuterie and incense. Vanilla and lavender are homely notes that I didn't have very high hopes about but putting them in a setting like this makes them interesting and very disturbing. I'm thinking about a post apocalypse movie photage. First you see a deserted city, houses in ruins, fires, rubble everywhere. You zoom in on the rubble and you see it consists of burned childrens toys and smashed up household items. If anyone remembers the intro of Terminator 2 you know what I mean. Then camrera zooms out and in the midsts of all destruction there is a single lunatic in a tattered robe, conducting a caricature of a Chatolic mass by himself. That's the start of Forreau Noir.

After an hour everything changes. The movie is over and it's time to go home and grab a snack. It also seems to be time for a gender change. The smoke has faded and what is now left (on me) is one of the nicest gourmand scents I've encountered. Imagine going to France and having the most exquisite lavender and tonka caramels ever. Or crumbly lavender butter cookies that melt in your mouth. That's what I've been smelling like in the past few days. And there is something more in there, something magically delicious I can't get a grip on that makes this scent come together perfectly on my skin. Something that feels a little bit salty and dirty. Something exciting.

I'm rating Fourreau Noir 5 out of 5. I've been bad mouthing vanillish scents on this blog before and like almost every time I bad mouth anything I'm living to regret it. So, vanilla or tonka bean or whatever guise you come in, I'm sorry for all I've said, you're really ok. As long as you're sticking with your new pals, lavender and smoke, I think I love you.

"Cuir Mauresque" by Serge Lutens

I've had a horrible cold for a few days, literally not being able to smell a thing, but today I finally felt better and decided it was time for a new Serge. I closed my eyes and drew a sample from my "untried" little bag - and got Cuir Mauresque.  I remembered it was supposed to be a leather scent and happily dabbed some on. What I got was dead on "geléläppar" (= jelly lips in Swedish, depicted above), a very artificial tasting type of candy that I have a hard time believing that anyone likes. The taste can be described as an unholy marriage between raspberry jam and artificial cherry flavouring.

After a while the scent deepened and I could make out Mexican canela chocolate (chocolate mixed with cinnamon) as well. Then, while sniffing my wrist, thinking about how I could not understand the supposed greatness of Cuir Mauresque, I had what can best be described as an olfactory epiphany. It felt like, right there under my nose, all of a sudden the scent just turned upside down, revealing something completely different. While still smelling exactly like a few seconds ago it was now dead on leather. It was like the picture on the right, both a young woman and an old woman, but you can not see the both of them at the same time.

The leather scent felt dark, sensual and somehow fun, I think the knowledge of the "geleläppar" being there made me not being able to take things very seriously. I kept thinking about being a teenager and sneaking into a British gentlemens club after hours and get secretly drunk on their booze. The feeling you can imagine having when you and your friends put your feet up on the tables, getting all comfortable in the luxurious leather chairs, giggling and giggling. One of the things I regretfully never have done.

It's interesting when you try several scents from the same manufacturer how some notes are repeated in different settings. I think I felt something similar to the "geléläppar" in Bois de Fruits as well. But set in a cedar surrounding it felt much more relaxed and at ease.

I'm rating this one 3 out of 5, I love leather and possibly, one day, I might getting used to and starting to like the "geléläppar" note as well but for now it's just to weird.

Santal de Mysore by Serge Lutens

Go ahead, press the play button on the YouTube clip above. This blog post has a soundtrack.

I've been wearing "Santal de Mysore" for a couple of days now, and the best way to describe it  is like a Bach concerto, firmly built around a central theme that is indefinitely varied but never gets old.

The theme is, of course, sandalwood and the infinite variations are the way the other notes seamlessly intertwine, playing one off the other, managing to render the sandalwood in different lightings again and again. There is "woody sandalwood" flanked by oak chips and wine barrels. There is "spicy sandalwood", flanked by cumin and Indian curry spices. There is "gourmet sandalwood", flanked by liquorice, vanilla and good quality dark chocolate.

The wine barrel note I find especially interesting. My first impression of "Santal de Mysore" was, my god, this smells just like an Australian Chardonnay. They sometimes carry some pretty aggressive oak notes as they are not only aged in oak barrels but some producers have been known to throw in oak chips for that extra little oooomh (nothing you see on bottle labels though, this is a trade secret). As the perfume dries down the wine barrel note goes softer and after a few hours I've caught notes of softly oaked young Cabernet Sauvignon.
It's funny that the oak notes are so prominent for me in "Santal de Mysore", that is not officially supposed to carry oak, but I didn't catch any oak in Chene, that is supposed to be all about oak, just generic wood.

So, how do I feel about this one? It's not a classical "woody" fragrance to me, it's a sweet, dark and seductive fragrance. I find it  pleasant, but I think it will be even better in winter. I'm rating this a 4 out of 5 for now, but I might very well up that at Christmas.

Music: J.S. Bach Double Concerto for 2 violins in D minor, 1st movement. Solemn and a bit stiff arsed at fist listenings but once you start hearing how the two violins sometimes support each others, sometimes tease, a whole new landscape (soundscape?) opens up. Very much like the process I've had with "Mysore de Santal".

Sarrasins by Serge Lutens

Once upon the time in far away Thailand there was a small shop that made jasmine garlands. The garlands used to chat about where they would end up when they were being sold. "I want be a gift to a famous monk", said one. "I want to cheer up someone who is ill", said another. "I want be wrapped around the neck of a beautiful dancer" said the third. I don't know what happened to the first two, but the third one indeed ended up around a beautiful dancer. One that worked hard, all nights long, in a very sad and seedy place...

So, Sarrasins is about jasmine. Initially, the jasmine comes out so load it's screeching. It has got a plasticky and synthetic feel about itself. After a while it calms down and a whole new picture reveals itself. The jasmine turns lighter and more realistic and in the background there is leather and other animal notes. There is flesh, lightly smoked fish and somehow (although I know you are not supposed to be able smell that) salt. I wouldn't say it smells like vagina, but that sure is the general direction of things.

It's no surprise that perfume makers use elements that are normally considered  unpleasant to make their creations come to life. However, it is unusual (at least for me) to find them left out in the open like this. I find the play between innocent jasmine and the other notes very intriguing. The only other fragrance I know of with this level of bipolarity is Tubereuse Criminelle. That one is, for me, about questionable sanity. This one is about guilty sex. I mean, why else hide behind all that jasmine?

So, risking to appear to be a total pervert, I have to confess that I love this scent. There is something about it that makes me smile again and again. I'll wear my sample to the last drop. I rate this one a 5 out of 5.

El Attarine by Serge Lutens

Living in Sweden, there are some flower notes that I've no idea how they smell in real life. Immortelle, one of the main notes in El Attarine, is one of them. I can't pick it out since I've no idea how it smells, I just have to trust other reviewers on the net that's it in there somewhere.

Actually, I've had a hard time picking out any notes in El Attarine. Sometimes it just smells like my skin has gotten sweeter. Sometimes I feel like I'm followed by a ghost, the perfume is all around me, but when I smell my wrist there is nothing there.

What I do pick up is sweet honey, I love the fact that this is a sweet perfume without any traces of vanilla and coconut. For a short period of time, there is a rash cumin note. There is also a healthy dose of musk. There are traces of flowers and spice, but nothing cool or fresh. El Attarine is all-in warm and golden.

I just can't bring myself to love this one. Compared with all others Serge Lutens I've tried, El Attarine has the least personality. It lacks character. Maybe this is a scent that comes to live on warmer days days, we've had cold and rainy weather when I've tried it on or maybe we just aren't meant to be. I'm rating El Attarine 3 out of 5.

Rahät Loukoum by Serge Lutens

This is one perfume that forever will rub in the fact that the smell that comes out of a bottle might be very different than how that perfume will smell on your skin.

When I open my vial, out comes a strong whiff of bitter almonds. On skin the bitter almond note lasts only for a second or two. Then there are toasted almonds for about 10 seconds. These turn to sweet marzipan, but within a few minutes the whole almond thing dissappears, making place for cherries. The scent keeps on morphing, inpersonating among others cherry liquorice, cherry liquor, marshmallows, cherry nougat and vanilla pudding. This lasts for about two hours. After that there is mostly musk and vanilla. Rahät Loukum is the arab name for Turkish delight, "Candyshop" would also be a decent name for this scent.

My first thought when trying this one was "Oh my god, this is way off my sweet-o-meter, far into diabetic zone, I can't wear this". But since then, I've found myself reaching out to this scent several times. Today I wore it after first using a coffee scrub, leaving faint bitter-sweet notes of coffee and dark chocolate all over my skin. In my opinion, that bought out the best in the Rahät Loukoum. Layered like that, I got deeper and darker notes like cherry tobacco and Kriek, Belgian cherry beer, two party staples when I first started uni. I'm no big consumer of any of them nowadays, but I loved catching a whiff every now and then, reminding me of happy, carefree days :)

Rahät Loukoum is most wearable gourmand scent I've tried so far, but still, I wouldn't wear it out of the house. Or, well, actually I did today, and I felt rather uncomfortable doing it. This is not a scent when you want people to take you seriously, but great when wearing your slouchiest clothes, realxing around the house. So, I'm rating this a 4 out of 5.

Picture: Cherry Almond Nougat, yum

Boxeuses by Serge Lutens

There is no label like Serge Lutens  to create vivid vignettes in my mind when I try one of their creations. Boxeuses is no exception.

When I was 17 I lived in Thailand for a year as an AFS Exchange student. At that time Thiland did not have it current day status as a holiday paradise but was viewed with a bit of suspicion. I stayd in the smallest province, named Samutsongkhram. The only tourists ever to come there were safely enclosed into air conditioned buses, heading for the beaches further south.

It's difficult to describe the culture shock I experienced. Everything was different from home. The lush vegetation. The spicy food. The Buddist mindset. And there were  temples all around, serene at day, loud and crazy at night hosting fairs full of song and dancing performances - and also Thai boxing matches.

The first 30 minutes of Boxeuses take me right back to one of those fairs. It opens with a bang, the initial notes are jumping one off another. There are mothballs, camphor and wood. There is an extremely life like smoke note that only lasts for a couple of seconds. There is leather and lots of sweet incense. I think it's the incense that does it, it smells exactly like I remember the incense from those temples. The smoke reminds me of fire from burning dry palm leaves and the wood comes from all those huge tropical trees that grew all around.

When the scent calms down, the incense stays. It's now a sweeter than I remember from Thailand. There are prunes and leather as well.

I'm rating Boxeuses a 4 out of 5. I love the beginning, just as I came to love Thailand and its people. But I'm not yet ready to smell like a prune yet. Sorry!

The picture above is of Parinya Charoenphol. He became a Thai boxing champion in order to pay for a gender change. It's a true story and there has been a movie made about it. See trailer below for more of the atmosphere I'm associating with the Boxeuses scent.

Chergui by Serge Lutens

Chergui is named after a wind that blows in the Moroccan desert. It is supposed to be persistent, very dry and dusty, hot in summer, cold in winter. I think the idea to create a perfume inspired by the chergui is stunning. Before I've tried on the perfume my head is full with vivid pictures out of Arabian Nights; rubinesque harem ladies cooling off by the pool, bedouin musicians playing intricate tunes outside their tents at night, camel caravans carrying riches beyond imagination... 

Now, if I return to reality, I haven't been to Morocco. The only desert I've visited was in Rahjastan, in India. The major scent note I remember is dust. A dry chalky scent when the sun warms the sand to the point that it burns your skin when touching it. There are dry, scarred shrubbery smelling a little herby. Animalic scents from camel dung and sweaty camel fur all around (I was on a camel safari). Sometimes spicy curries stewing over small, wood kindled, cooking fires.

So, what does Serge Lutens Chergui have in store for me? Initially there is honey and vanilla. These are backed by traces of smoke, which adds character and keeps the sweeter notes from getting cloying. While the scent plays on, the vanilla is ever present and on and off I feel soft amber and musk. It feels like a sweet whisper, close to my skin.

So how can this have any relation to the Moroccan desert wind? I think of it as a dream of how desert life would be without all the dirt and grime. Just the sweet, soft and the pleasant remains. The honey note comes from piles of sweet confections. The smoke whirls up in the air where friends share a water pipe. The only scents coming off the camels are from their cargo of sandalwood and vanilla while musk tell tales of secret amorous encounters behind harem walls. The only one who knows is the ever swirling desert wind.

This is the most expertly crafted Oriental I've tried this far. I personally don't feel comfortable wearing vanilla, so I'm rating it 3 out of 5. That doesn't mean this is a bad scent, it just isn't a scent for me, but for anyone (of any gender) who's into orientals, I consider it a must try.

Pic: "The terrace of the sergalio" by Jean-Leon Gerome.

Comparison Jo Malone "Orange Blossom"+"White Jasmine & Mint" vs "Tubereuse Criminelle"

When thinking about the notes in Tubereuse Criminelle, two other samples in my perfume collection came to mind; Jo Malones "Orange Blossom" and "White Jasmine and Mint". Jo Malone fragrances are made to layer, shouldn't these two add up to something similar to TC? They both have white flowers (ok, no tuberose, but jasmine will have to do in a pinch), orange blossom and mint. I decided to do a little comparison. One drop of Serge Lutens Tubereuse Criminelle on one wrist and a small spray of first JM Orange Blossom and then White Jasmine & Mint on the other.

Smelling these two next to each others is like having a chat with a seductive but slightly insane femme fatal on one side and a innocent little girl on the other. TC just keeps expanding in all possible and impossible directions. There is good, there is evil and there is the just very strange stuff in between.

JM Orange Blossom first smells exactly like when you use your fingers to peel an orange. No more, no less. A safe smell. The "White Jasmine and Mint" isn't very noticeable at first. I suspect it takes the edge of the orange but I don't really notice it. Half an hour later the jasmine is more prominent. The little mint that there is feels vaxy and plasticy, like the first seconds when you put a Mentos in your mouth. You feel the smooth surface, there is a hint of mint, but it hasn't started to dissolve yet, releasing its menthol. About an hour later, I'm getting mandarin and lemon. There might be a hint of dirtyness, but when compared side to side with TC, it's hardly worth mentioning. This is an ok scent. Relatively fresh with lots of citrusy notes. I have to try it on its own on a warm summer day. And I think I might have been very hash when I've said before that I hate orange blossoms. I now recall that I was pregnant when I formed that judgement. They are not that bad.

So, the verdict of today's exercise: The result of layering Jo Malones "Orange Blossom" and "White Jasmine and Mint" is not bad, but it's NOTHING like the legendary Tubereuse Criminelle.

"Tubéreuse Criminelle" by Serge Lutens

This one I've been looking forward to try. I've heard so much about it, it has quite a reputation, I badly want to form an opinion of my own.

First, a huge blast of...what? When I close my eyes I can almost believe I'm in the midst of a tropical night garden with big juicy clumps of flowers hanging all around me. But behind those flowers there is a hint of nasty. It reminds me of public rest rooms in Thailand. Not the piss and shit part but they use these little camphor smelling tablets to repel insects that live in the pipes, mostly roaches and silverfish. The smell of those tablets is lingering in the background. And there is gasoline, I repeatedly caught myself thinking: "I really shouldn't be inhaling this".

As the scent develops the flower part turns more toward jasmine and hyasinth. I'm also getting moththballs and lots of menthol. And orange flowers. Normally I hate orange blossoms. On me they smell dirty and remind me of tooth decay and unwashed bodies. But in Tubereuse Criminelle they fit in, making their contribution both to the flowery part and to the skanky underbelly.

Some hours later things have calmed down. There is a strong note of generic "white flower" that sometimes turns into Juicy Fruit Chewing Gum. There is also a note of mint intertwined. The mint has an interesting physical effect. As I'm not used to smell it in a setting like this I sometimes get a cold little shiver down my spine, or feel slightly unsettled by the cool sensation of it. Like I'm smelling all this flowery sweetness but I know somehow that there is something very very wrong with it. I love how the play with hot/cold adds an extra dimension to the scent.

Some associate this scent with vampires, some with a blond bombshell out of a 30ies movie. Impeccable dressed up in a black tight dress, shiny red lipstick onb but just wait for a while and out comes the machine gun. For me, I think of Snow White in her glass casket. When you come closer she opens her eyes and beckons you to open the lid. When you do, you realise there is no girl there but just a mass of crawling maggots reaching towards you. An olfactory representation of a beautiful shell with very nasty things going on on the inside.

To be honest, even if I was looking forward to trying this one, I didn't think I'd like it. There are white flowers, which I'm not to happy about, and orange blossoms that I seriously dislike. But I love it. Somehow the ugliness of each one (as I perceive it) comes together and builds a very unique and interesting whole. This is not a scent for everyday wear, it's a scent that tells a different story to every wearer. I'm rating it 5 out of 5.

"Bois et Fruits" by Serge Lutens

This one took me completely by suprise and made me smile. The first top note is dead on identical to the scent of the Swedish candy "geléhallon" (direct translation to English: jelly raspberries, see picture above). However, if one puts on a drop or two too many, that first note is tranferred into "Alvedon mixtur för barn med smak av skogsbär". "Alvedon" is my first medicin of choice for reducing fever and pain for my kids. A thick syrop, massively scented with artificial forest fruit aroma to hide the medicine flavour.

Don't worry though, this initial burst artificialness only lasts for about half an hour. Then the notes settle down into a somewhat more integrated composision. The "bois" part is the same as for the other Serge Lutes "boises", most notably warm cedar and forest floor on a sunny day. Among the fruits I pick out sweet and sticky blackberry jam, quinces, apricots, raisins and figs.

I'm completely in love with this one. The way the sweet fruit blends in with the wood notes is very sensual and works great on my skin. Also, the fact that I tried "Bois et Fruits" during Easter made the geléhallon note extra appropriate. Swedish people consume a lot of candy, 17 kg per person per year That's more than twice then what the average EU citizen eats, and 20% of all that candy is consumed around Easter time (source: DN). So if there is one time a year when to smell like candy, this is it!

I'm rating "Bois et Fruits" 5 out of 5. A little to playful for an everyday scent but perfect for a long weekend mostly spent playing games with the kids in the sun and catching up with famliy and friends.