Tuesday, January 19, 2010
SOTD: Serge Lutens Daim Blond
I tried another overapplication experiment with this, to see if it changed at all. It didn't. And that's fine - I love Daim Blond just the way it is.
But I see that I've never talked about it in detail. That's probably because it's hard to describe. It's not hard to smell or to love - at least for me, it's a love at first sniff, sink in, comfort scent. But it's a scent that doesn't make sense. Leather and fruit. Pale suede and apricot. It's not an apricot danish thrown at a lady's suede hat, or an apricot hand pie in a suede crust (eew), or anything like that. The two are merged. It's... it's... OK, you see the problem? I can't come up with a single fantastical object that ought to smell like this.
Now, the notes don't say apricots. The notes are hawthorn and cardamom on top, iris and apricot stone and pallida in the middle, and musk, heliotrope, and leather at the base. I'm guessing that the fruit that I'm getting is really the heliotrope - don't they call it "cherry pie"?
The top notes are my favorite. There's an odd scent that's both fresh, or maybe I just mean volatile, and rich - maybe it's the hawthorn. And plenty of fruit, and plenty of suede. But even though it announces "suede" loud and clear, there's nothing animalic here. No, I can't explain that. I don't get the cardamom at all, but I'm guessing that it, plus the bitterness of the apricot stone, explains why the whole mix doesn't collapse into an oversweet mess.
As time goes on, there's a good deal less fruit, and the leather is quieter. The musk shows itself, and there's a very fine, silky powder that I'd guess is the pallida. Even when I officially hated powder and musk, and disliked iris, I loved Daim Blond. Now all three are growing on me, and someday I may prefer this phase to the fruity top notes.
At the end, the last traces are a faintly sweet powder. That's nice, too; I may overapply even more next time to get a stronger, clearer view of the base.
Review Roundup: Is here.
Photo: Wikimedia Commons.