Serge Lutens Bois et Musc: Fragrance Review & a Draw

Among the four variations on the original Féminité du Bois, which in 1992 catapulted Les Salons business into the niche market (namely Bois de Violette, Bois et Fruits, Bois Oriental and Bois et Musc), this one is possibly the most polished, the most seamless, the most like natural skin scent and yet the lesser known. The latter possibly because it has never so far been issued in the export line, resolutely remaining a Parisian exclusive. Alongside Un Bois Sépia, Un Bois Vanille, Santal Blanc and Santal de Mysore, these woody fragrances form part of an informal family pegged as "Les Eaux Boisées" which cemented the Lutensian canon as we know it today.

Bois (pronounced "bwah") means of course woods and Bois et Musc is a fragrance which marries the two components of the name exactly as promised, in equal measure; first experienced in rapid succession (woods first, musk second), then in unison. The synergy of Moroccan cedar and smooth musk is at the core, while the usual Lutens accord of spice & dried fruits, with which he has invested his orientalised compositions for long, is subdued to the point of transparency. I seem to detect a creamy note of rosy sandalwood too, even though it is not officially mentioned, like those traditional incense beads fashioned in India and the Middle-East. The effect cannot be described as anything less than silky...
This is a fragrance which enters the scene like a shy guest who radiates the room with their quiet presence even though they don't utter a single word and are bespectacled. You'd be hard-pressed to find dainty features, or beauty writ large over them, but they just exude a positive energy that surrounds every living thing within a one-foot radius. Contemplative, sensuous, brainy with the kind of wits that don't show off. Compared with the other Bois variations on Féminité du Bois, it is closer to Bois de Violette, but without the shadowy ambery backdrop.

Bois et Musc is totally unisex, completely ageless and a superb skin-scent (i.e. smelling like human skin would if only angels and devils had cradled it), what the French call "à fleur de peau". Possibly, the idea which perfumer Christopher Sheldrake had in mind when describing a "sexy", attractive scent. And this is even more so the case than in Clair de Musc which misses by an inch via its opaline soapy florals that read as ethereal. In contrast this is nothing like a white musk: In fact it's closer to intimate and impolite, but it's so noble that it invests naughtiness with impecable manners. A sort of Fanny Ardant in a François Truffaut film, totally French.

Amidst subtle woody musks, this Lutens stands as a personal favourite ever since I had sampled it during a rather rushed visit (I had exited craddling a bell jar of La Myrrhe which had just been issued and which is also beautiful). Bois et Musc would make a wonderful musk choice for anyone who finds the concept of animalistic and outré Muscs Kublai Khan ~which I love, love, love~ quite attractive, but is leery of wearing such a potent musk outside the bedroom.

Bois et Musc is a Paris exclusive, sold at Les Salons du Palais Royal only, in the beautiful bell-jars of the exclusive line 75ml Eau de Parfum for 110 euros.

For our readers: One lucky reader will receive a big-sized decant of this exceptional, Paris exclusive fragrance. Comment if you want to be eligible. Draw will be open till Sunday midnight.



Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Scented Musketeers (musks reviews), The Musk Series: ingredients, classification, cultural associations


Photo from the film La femme d'à côté (Woman next door) by François Truffaut, 1981.

Serge Lutens Clair de Musc: Fragrance Review

Contrasting Clair de Musc to heavy-lidded, grimy and intimate Muscs Kublaï Khan by the same house, they couldn't be furter removed from one another in either concept or execution: Celestial creaminess on the one hand, afterglow raunchiness on the other. One feels platimum white, the other tawny.

Clair de Musc is ~atypically in the Lutens canon~ an angelic semi-vegetal musk (ambrette seed alongside synths, Habanolide I would wager); aldehydic, yet not totally soapy (Fleurs de Citronnier has a soapier musk base) neither "sharp" (à la L'Eau par Serge Lutens). It twists the idea of musk into an ethereal version of talcum-powdered chubby-peachy cheruvim with a floral underside, hold whatever "dirty aspects" i.e. indoles those flowers initially possessed; a skin-scent of juvenile, crisp flesh which almost "cracks" underneath the teeth. Which might explain why men love it on women. In our eternally seeking the youthful culture, Clair de Musc is a seduction that doesn't pose as seductive: The "innocence" of shorn pubes...but without a iota of crassness or malice.

In formula terms, there is a clear reference of aldehydics and florals of the past, intertextuality scatterings amidst the authoring, of which perfumer Chris Sheldrake surely was fully in control: the luster of both Chanel No.22and No.5, the cool vibrancy of powdered class of Iris Poudre by F.Malle, even the drydown phase of Le Male by Jean Paul Gaultier (a cologne formula almost entirely comprised by musks anyway)

For what it is, a delicate "white musk" composition, this Lutens creation issued in 2003 can be deemed overpriced, as there are indeed lots of musks of that concept (albeit not exactly of that stature, this is smoother than most) across different price points. And it is no match for more complex musk fragrances such as the delightful and lamentably discontinued Helmut Lang. It is superb for layering purposes nevertheless, if you're after that sort of thing, and it is among the easiest to approach in the eclectic Lutensian portfolio. However, my own personal preference is always the dirtier, cosier brother with the heavily-bearded visage, Muscs Kublaï Khan...

Although to any lover of classical music the instinctive association would be with Claude Debussy's Clair de Lune, I chose a different, less troden path, which is none the less evocative: "Dance with my own shadow" from Gioconda's Smile album by Greek composer Manos Hadjidakis. (set in a beautiful video by Omiros2)




Notes for Serge Lutens Clair de Musc:
bergamot, iris, neroli, jasmine, orange blossom, sandalwood, musk.

Clair de Musc is part of Serge Lutens export line, fragrances carried at select stores around the world, presented in the familiar oblong bottles of the brand.

Other noteworthy reviews: The Non Blonde, grain de musc, Pere de Pierre.

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Scented Musketeers (musks reviews), The Musk Series: ingredients, classification, cultural associations

Screenshot from Les enfants du Paradis film, via screenshotworld blog

Coty Wild Musk: Fragrance Review

There are few images more precious to an adult than one that involves angst-ridden teen years, when we spent our time snatching vintage stuff of our mother's wardrobe, coupled with a few of our dear father's, lining our peepers in black khol like some Siouxsie wannabe and riding the Coty Wild Musk shelves out of their inventory stinking up every place we went to in the process. But now that Wild Musk is becoming increasingly difficult to find (and a reformulation or two have been implemented to disfigure a little of that fresh raw face that smiled beneath the angled fringe that recalled Flock of Seagulls) we view it with the nostalgic melancholy reserved for bruises that are slowly fading into yellow, having pained us for so long we sort of miss them when they're gone.

Musk notes are experiencing a revival lately, especially vintage animalic stuff which growls a bit teasingly when you approach, and Wild Musk is among the very best in a field that is becoming crowded with more pretentious and more expensive upstarts. But what sets apart this inexpensive beauty apart is that there is a cozy barber-shop atmosphere about this floriental, hot towels and shaving cream paraphernalia on smooth skin, a little rose and sandalwood powder in the air as well. And yet this is a fragrance that although can be unisex it has a very cuddly quality about it. Gentle, yet bawdy, warm and unobtrusive, but with a flirtatious edge, it deserves to be carried into adultdom with no intersections along the way. Not to mention that there is a special synergy between this creamy scent and the smell of sweat, carrying itself into intimacy without vulgarity. Compared to Jovan Musk the similarity is there, although I find Wild Musk creamier, a little sweeter and softer, especially in the oil edition. Not "dirty" or spicy as Muscs Kublai Khan or Khiel's older oil, yet not sanitized "clean" like the plethora of white musk offerings around (from Musc Bleu to The Body Shop White Musk), Wild Musk with its great lasting power on clothes and its vanillic trail stands at the utopian crossroads between the two directions.

Wild Musk came out in 1973, just when Coty and Coty International were united after being sold to Pfizer & Co ten years earlier (Imprevu is another one which is a follow up after this take-over), issuing a handful of popular products including Styx, Sweet Earth, and Wild Musk fragrances and the Equatone beauty-treatment line. This is also the time when the production facility relocated from New York City to Sanford, North Caroline, thus heralding a new era for the brand.
Perhaps the most characteristic trait is how Wild Musk had been taken over in that time-frame by arty types and carried over as a small hint that underneath the existentialist ennui and their assertions that culture is going through an agonizing death they were sensitive, affectionate souls after all.

Notes for Coty Wild Musk:
A solid note of musk is accented by bergamot, lavender, jasmine, rose, sandalwood, amber and vanilla

The formula of Wild Musk by Coty circulated as both an oil and an alcohol-spray version. The oil is superior in aspects of smoothness, although the spray is not bad either. The newer version does bear a difference to the older, due to the substitution of the musk components for reasons of biodegradability (see Musk Series part 2 for more info on nitro-musks) which makes it significantly tamer and with a more alcohol-prominent top. Intermediary-age boxes of the Cologne concentrate spray carry the swoosh design in a single ribbon instead of the flou, hazy rendition that the newer ones have. The even older ones had a completely different graphic as depicted in the ad, some of which had a rectangle bottle with a red cap and label (similar to Musk Patchouli).Bottles of the latest edition are carried at Walmart, Target's and drugstores, while older versions circulate on online etailers and Amazon.

What about you? Did you wear musk fragrances when you were (very) young? What were your choices?

Nina Ricci Nina L'Elixir: new fragrance

Nina Ricci augments the Nina line in the apple-shaped bottle with Nina L'Elixir, to be launched in middle of August 2010. The perfumer behind the new flanker to the gourmand Nina issued in 2006 is Olivier Cresp again backed up by Firmenich.
The concept rests again on a philtre d'amour (love philtre) which will include notes of red fruits, green Caipirinha citron, jasmine, and "cotton musk"*. The bottle will reprise the familiar shape of apple, with all its fairy-tale and sin connotations.

*"Cotton musk" refers to a synthetic musks mix which exudes a billowy soft ambience, less strident than the usual white musk inclusion.

The advertising campaign will be fronted by Florrie Arnold, the 21-year-old British sensation, who will be featured in a musical clip vested with Nina Ricci fashions and the music of Blondie hit Sunday Girl.
The new fragrance comes as a follow-up to the take-over of the company by the Puig Group, thus breathing a desire of new beginnings. Let's see...

Natural Perfumers Featured in the NYTimes

"The desire to smell good — without the aura of chemicals — did not seem to wane in the flop sweat of the recent economic panic. Ms. McCoy sells her creations at $60 to $125 for a half-ounce — not cheap. Yet “since 2007, I’d say my sales have increased 25 percent every year,” she said. The great majority of these perfumers buy all their ingredients from natural scent companies, in stores or on the Web, and then blend them at home. But Ms. McCoy also uses a heady variety of homegrown scents from her lush garden in Miami Shores, Fla., a village just north of Miami. Mandy Aftel, who helped spur the modern natural perfumery movement with her 2001 book “Essence and Alchemy,” said she has “observed an absolute explosion of interest.”

In a very interesting article chronicling the rise of all-naturals perfumery that relies on small batches of harvests and growing one's own plants for tincturing, appearing in the New York Times online by Micheal Tortorello, we come across names which have occupied these pages before, namely Anya McCoy and Mandy Aftel, gurus of natural perfumery. The article named "Making Flowers into Perfume" can be accessed here and contains such priceless imagery as comparing overflowing, lush jasmine vines at McCoy's "like chest hair on a ’70s sex symbol that cannot be kept under the collar".
Congrats to the natural perfumers mentioned and a shout-out for Mandy and Anya, well-done ladies!