Serge Lutens – Fille en Aiguilles

Serge Lutens – Fille en Aiguilles

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Vincent Van Gogh

 

It seems unbelievable that December is upon us. Winter calls to mind snowy evenings by the fire with a mug of warm spiced tea, after a brisk walk though a pine forest, where the cold night air traps a scent and suspends it in its icy fingers. And while it may not be even remotely cold where I live, the humidity has diminished, and the thermometer has been gracious enough to dip to the point where my favorite winter scents can make their debut.

Serge Lutens is the master of intellectual perfumes, ones which weave an olfactory story. Fille en Aiguilles is no exception, and yet it creates more a sense of atmosphere than a story alone. But how to create a fragrance based on the notes of pine, incense, candied fruit and spices without creating a cliché?

Released in 2009, Fille en Aiguilles is true to the Lutens/Sheldrake formula of combining disparate notes that cannot possibly belong together in any cogent manner, and turning up their more difficult aspects beyond the point of discomfort until they positively soar. Fille en Aiguilles starts out with a candied fruit note reminiscent of wintry holidays that will feel familiar to Lutens fans. It is rendered here with more subtlety than Arabie or Chypre Rouge, as though the intent were to envelop the wearer in a blanket of comfort rather than provoke or shock.

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The fruit quickly fades to a forest full of pine and fir notes, warmed with wintry spices, which carry on the opening theme of candied fruit. Pine is a note I never imagined loving in a fragrance, as it could so easily become unimaginative, but here it is rendered with such elegance and creativity, it is difficult not to fall under its spell.

Then Fille en Aiguilles, which roughly translates to “girl in stilettos”, shows us her Lutensian edge with a bit of the camphorous halo many of us have come to love, though rendered with far more delicacy than in his explosive Tubereuse Criminelle. Detractors fear not, the effect is subtle and further subdued by beautiful frankincense. The combined effect is stunning, enveloping the wearer in a soft, smoky haze, much like a tender embrace on a cold winter’s night.

Notes: Pine Needles, Vetiver, Sugary Sap, Laurel, Fir Balsam, Frankincense, Candied Fruit, Spice.

Serge Lutens – Chypre Rouge

Serge Lutens – Chypre Rouge

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It is said that there is a fine line between madness and genius. Nowhere is this more apparent in the world of modern perfumery than in the creative duo of Serge Lutens and Christopher Sheldrake. Even the most classically beautiful of the fragrances in the Serge Lutens line have an underlying tension and subversity which make them fascinating at best and challenging at worst, but never, ever mundane.

Chypre Rouge was released by Serge Lutens in 2006 as part of his export line. I found this to be an interesting move, since the house generally releases those fragrances fit for U.S. (i.e. less sophisticated) consumption, and by many accounts, Chypre Rouge can be a challenging scent. Out of the bottle, Chypre Rouge smells thick: a plummy, jammy, spicy mash that feels more like something you would spread on toast than an actual perfume. The spices invoke all of the warmth and opulence of Lutens’s beloved Marrakech, and makes me feel completely transported. True to its name and hue, Chypre Rouge smells deeply red and calls to mind autumn leaves on the forest floor, damp and musky, with a hint of decay, sweet and pervasive like dense maple syrup.

On skin, however, the fragrance tells a different story. Similar to his Tubereuse Criminelle, Chypre Rouge’s opening belies a softer, more accessible fragrance underneath. As the intense oriental opening diminshes, the spices simmer down to a mere whisper, allowing a soft, sweet and slightly creamy woods to emerge with notes of honey and vanilla. It is in these deeper, twilight hours, that we experience the chypre aspect of the fragrance, as a light mossiness overtakes the dense immortelle-like scent, creating a sedcutive, silky veil. The sillage follows suit, wearing closer and closer to the skin as the hours pass, though as a Lutens creation, it is tenacious.

As I have found to be the case with other fragrances in the Lutens line, the aspect which I initially find most defiant in the fragrance ultimately becomes my favorite. Hours into the more demure drydown, I find myself missing the heady, viscous opening, leading me to carry around a sample vial whenever I wear it to recapture the initial assault. My sincere thanks to Messrs. Lutens and Sheldrake for creating provocative fragrances that push our limits, for it is through this olfactive adversity that we grow.

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Oriental Chypre

Notes: thyme, pine needles, honey, beeswax, jasmine, patchouli, vanilla, moss, amber, musk