Diptyque Lunamaris: fragrance review

 Lunamaris by Diptyque, part of the new collection Les Essences, inspired by rare natural materials, managed to capture my attention and eventually my preference within the new line-up. It's a sleeper, that I suspect will please a lot of people if only given a chance to try it out. It grows on you. This fragrance genre has an affinity for prompting introspection and daydreaming, akin to listening to Eric Satie and his collective opus of Gymnopédies and Gnossiennes. Music that eases the mind and set forth a spiritual mood, with restrained sentimentality and low vibration sounds that stir the senses in a non flamboyant way. It's excellent for doing mental work, as its lack of words helps with concentration and -much like baroque music, though in a different way- it aids the mind to put a flow into thoughts. 

                    photo via pinterest

 The intention was transliterating the effect of mother of pearl or nacré into a scent. Perfumer Fabrice Pelegrin worked on the dual nature of mother-of-pearl, iridescent and whiteish, with a combination of resins. Cistus labdanum and frankincense-myrrh are played into the effects of the structure. It gives a fresh, cool ambience backed by subtle warmth which blooms on the skin when the fragrance is finally settling. To transliterate this beauty and dream-like quality into a fragrance it needed materials and chords that echo this subtlety and low-key dazzling of the senses. Perfume lovers can think of some: irises, metallic effects, shimmery incense effects, mineral chords, rose oxides... No innovation then in the composite parts of Lunamaris the fragrance, but excellent execution, something I'm giving more and more attention to. An incense with spicy notes and a fresh feeling, it easily comes through victorious. The poetic name, which unites the notions of the moon (luna) and the sea (maris) creates a tension that almost pre-empts the image of a dark nightime seascape where the silvery path of moonbeams sheds its magic upon the waters. It's dreamy in itself. 

                              photo via pinterest

 The myrrh and labdanum components give Lunamaris a vibrant feel, bittersweet and mysterious and almost abstract. I also detect a certain rosiness, the kind that is vegetal, pure, botanical and not liquer-ish or femininely floral. This is attributed to pink peppercorns, or in French baies roses. Of course Diptyque has cemented a cult favouring of their legendary Baies candle, so it fits effortlessly into their fine fragrances too. Contrary to what most people associate with pepper or peppercorns, baies have a rosy texture, adding flavour and aroma but no real heat to the palate when tasted. Therefore the subtle spiciness and the becoming, rosy aroma contributes to fragrances in a way that cannot be tagged retro under any guise, fully justifying why perfumers have used pink pepper with abandon in the last couple of decades in contemporary compositions. This was exploited in Toy Boy by Moschino too, recently, in order to give a non feminine feel to a fragrance geared towards men. 

 Overall the scent of Lunamaris is dry, completely unisex, devoid of any retro or stereotypically feminine or masculine traits and produces that zen quality we associate with an experience at a temple or a high-end spa retreat. It is clean and definitely minimalist luxury. There is also a musk inside which I suspect is Cashmeran, adhering to the skin in a very nice way, and yet projecting fine to others coming into the radius of its appealing aura. The lasting power is also very good, tenacious over the course of a working day.

Available as Eau de Parfum. 

Diptyque Do Son: fragrance review

Tuberose (Polianthes tuberose): the flower of spiritual ruin, the carnal blossom, the heady mistress of the night (nishigandha or rajnigandh in India, a reader informs me), a lily plant originally native to the Americas. Do Son: a coastal resort in Vietnam that inspired Yves Coueslant, one the founders of Diptyque, to name thus their fragrance. It launched in autumn 2005 in a time frame not especially receptive to such compositions, at least in the Northern hemisphere. The two combine in an unexpected composition by perfumer Fabrice Pelegrin in Do Son, the perfume and the time is now more than ripe to reap its cooling benefits. Diptyque sounds a bit like diptych, the two-paneled painting so popular in religious art. Yves Coueslant has associations with Vietnam obviously and tuberose is used for pious rituals in that country, which begs the question why on earth we haven’t incorporated it in ours as well.

Tuberose has traditionally been seen as dangerous due to its intense odour profile, its headiness, the spin it produces in one’s head when one inhales deeply. In 19th century Victorian-era young girls were discouraged from smelling it, as it signified both voluptuousness and dangerous pleasures, in an effort to keep their “purity” from naughty thoughts. Flowers are after all the sexual organs of plants...

Do Son however could pass the test of chastity, I think. With its airy and crystalline character, it manages to smell like a diaphanous gauze draped around the body of an eastern girl with hair flowing. Like a fluted ornament by a crafted Murano technician, like the breeze of warm air on one’s face while walking in a summer garden.

Compared to other tuberose scents, the most iconic of which among perfume circles is Germaine Cellier’s classic Fracas, it is nothing like them, since most rely on the carnal aspects of tuberose and marry it with other heavy numbers such as jasmine and orange blossoms, enhancing tuberose's rubbery or creamy facets. Fracas is almost brutal in its bombshell beauty, a trait that rocketed it into the hearts of the rich and famous. Gianfranco Ferré for women, Carolina Herrera, and Blonde by Versace ( a wannabe Fracas that is actually very nice in parfum, surprisingly) are all heady seduction numbers destined for discerning women of a more mature age. Maitre Parfumeur et Gantier’s Tubéreuse is also very sweet and shares that element of opaqueness with the rest. Tubéreuse Criminelle by Serge Lutens is a completely different, unique affair.

Do Son rather shares the light playful tuberose note of L’artisan’s La Chasse aux Papillons or even Carnal Flower’s (although the latter is more exotic smelling) and weaves it through in a similarly girly formula that makes it perfect for young coquettes.

Do Son by Diptyque opens on a rather green and also slightly citrusy start of light orange blossom, to then proceed to tuberose mingled with light rose and smooth iris. Rose is an official note; however my nose which is a tad biased to all things rosy, doesn’t discern it clearly. The powderiness of iris is not especially present here either, although I can smell its earthiness and the whole remains very bright, very happy, with nary a melancholy or poignant note that iris might add. The finish off with white musk (synthetic clean musks as opposed to animalic) makes it linger seductively on the skin for some time, never intruding, just reminding you of its presence whenever the body is heated up.
There is also a little element of sourness, at least on the skin if not on blotter, that could make for some disappointment for people who usually complain about such a thing. However the solution to that problem would be to spray one’s clothes. It’s such a light number anyway, that this solution would be probably best to appreciate the fragrance’s volume and sillage.

The bottles of Diptyque perfume are always a chic, understated affair. It is obvious that those three friends who founded the company (Desmond Knox-Leet, Christiane Gautrot and Yves Coueslant), had been students at the Ecole des Beaux Arts. You know upon opening the box that you’re in the presence of unquestionable bon gout. Here the sketch of a woman in a garden pavillon is delineated on the label on the austere, rectangular bottle.

Available as Eau de Toilette from Diptyque retailers.

Notes for Diptyque Do Son: tuberose,orange blossom, rose, berries, musk.

artwork by David Graux