When the Brides started to amble off in small groups, I ambled off to Barneys. Himself retained a cafe table, a Limonata, and our bag of almond cookies from The House. (Which reminds me; did he save me any? Must search shopping bag.)
Barneys had Serge Lutens Un Lys in stock, so I gave in to the inevitable and bought it. (Woohoo!) I'm keeping it in its little Barneys bag until I do some house cleaning; I wouldn't want it to get one look at our place and flee back to France.
I sniffed a handful of other Lutenses, with the assistance of a very nice man whose name I have, of course, forgotten. He shouldn't be offended by this; have I mentioned that I used to forget the name of my home room teacher until roughly Christmas break? The highlights:
- The infamous Musc Kublai Khan (on skin) wasn't nearly as ill-mannered as I expected. Yes, the beginning was stale sweat, but as time went on it was a surprisingly mild, increasingly sweet, animalic musk.
- Borneo 1834 (on paper) has no chocolate smell for me - to my nose, it's vaguely spicy and mostly medicinal.
- Santal de Mysore (on paper) was sweet and spicy and edible, much nicer than I remembered.
- Datura Noir (on paper) was much too friendly and well-behaved. I need more weird in my Lutens.
- Oops. I liked either Chene or Cedre much, much better than I did last time I tried it. And now I can't remember which one. It had a lot of sweet, and some floral, and a gasoline-like note. Neither scent's description matches my memory - any votes for which one that sounds more like? Bad one-syllable similar names!
- The reformulated Feminite du Bois (on paper) was almost exactly like the old Feminite du Bois, except without the soul.
- L'Eau (also smelled on paper) might work as a "clean" Jo Malone. Serge Lutens? I don't think so.
- Le Parfum de Therese. I have, of course, heard of this one, but I'd never given it a real wearing. It's lovely. Blended to the point that my nose can't pick out the notes, but not to the point of being simplistic. Fruity, but not "Oh. Fruity." Beautiful but without drawing attention to itself. I want some.
- Angelique Sous La Pluie. Also lovely, though less indescribably so. My response was, "Cedar. Nice." and I never really expanded on that. But I love cedar and have never before had enough of it in a fragrance.
Photo: By Nadavspi. Wikimedia Commons.