Serge Lutens Jeux de Peau: fragrance review & draw

Horace had written* referring to his diet: "Me pascunt olivae, me cichorea, me malvae" ("As for me, olives, chicory, and mallows provide sustenance"). I don't know if I could supress my gluttony for "all the perfumes of Arabia" into a diet of only a few well-chosen ones, but Serge Lutens has a way into tempting me. Jeux de Peau, his newest (upcoming for the US) launch, is no exception. With vivid contrasts and a fascinating plot via Daedalean alleyways, it proves that the Master is still producing fragrances that can surprise and excite.


Jeux de Peau (pronounced Zø de POH) aka Skin Games, a fragrance for both genders, was supposed to smell of buttered toast, recalling Serge's quick run to the boulangerie across the road to pick up a baguette: "It gets me back to the 'don't forget to pick up the bread on the way back from school!' At the boulangerie at the end of the road, its captivating odour and its blond and warm light, a golden moment..." says Serge. Well, naughty, naughty Uncle, this is not what one would expect! The mercurial Serge actually hints at the humanity of the fragrance when he provocatively says "Eat, for this is my body"; especially if we consider that some human skins do smell like bread, the "dough" impression being a Ph variance.

Not that that this cryptic game would be unusual for any fan; in fact the fascination with the newest Lutensian opus comes exactly by its surprising character, at once a part of the Lutens-Sheldrake canon and a little apart; it's new and at the same time familiar, like seeing the photographs of antecedants and trying to pinpoint what part of the genetic roll of dice resulted in similarities with one's own offspring.
Starting to break down the composition of Jeux de Peau much talk has been conducted about the "burnt" note of pyrazines [see this lexicon on perfume effects according to notes/ingredients for definition] but I remain sceptical: Jeux de Peau doesn't really smell burnt or heavily roasted; more milky-spicy-golden in the sandalwood goodness that was Santal Blanc. It has a pronounced celery-pepper opening note, much like Chypre Rouge did, a trait that will certainly prove controversial, coupled with delectable milky-buttery notes which almost melt with pleasure on skin. The celery effect ~celery seeds were a common element in Mediaeval French cooking~ lasts for only about 5 minutes seguing into the main course: the buttery accords, alongside a distinctive, very pleasant chicory note.
Chicory, a bitterish-spicy smell, is a profoundly clever "note", if I am correct in surmissing it was the centre of the Jeux de Peau creation all along: It was substituting coffee in WWII, which might account for some of the memories of Serge, but it also evokes beer because producers add some in their stouts to lend flavour. Beer is so close to bread in olfactory terms that it's enough to put some on a pot on the stove for your guests to be fooled into thinking you're baking your own bread! (Not that you'd resort to such tricks, or would you?) Plus chicory root is 20% inulin which is very similar to starch. So the bread connection is there all right!
Immortelle/helichrysum notes (caramelic maple & spicy fenugreek facets) are allied to the familiar candied-dried fruits (apricot mainly, simply lovely!) which perfumer Chris Sheldrake has been respinning in novel and delecious combinations for Lutens ever since the inauguration of the Palais Royal niche line in 1992. This complex stage in Jeux de Peau by Lutens is sustained for a long, long time; it reminds me of rich Byzantine mosaics; tiny tesserae of glazed material surfacing and receding according to the angle from which you're viewing it.


If you like the core accords of Féminité du Bois or Boxeuses, you will probably detect them easily in Jeux de Peau. But the two diverge in other ways: there's no familiar plum, not much cedar, nor leather (as in the case of Boxeuses), while we can see that wheat & barley are evoked throughout that warm "gourmand" woody. If Serge hadn't mentioned he was inspired from his forays to the baker's clutching the baguette for home, we wouldn't be so insistent on searching for toast; a whiff of Crusader's pain au four it is and delectably so I might add.

If you're wondering if Jeux de Peau would suit you, apart from the wise advice I can offer to always sample a Lutens any fragrance ~just in case~ I can suggest that if you're a lover of other intellectual oriental woodies such as Like This by Etat Libre d'Orange or Tea for Two by L'Artisan, you have high chances of liking this one very much as well. It's rather odd that Jeux de Peau launches in spring, when it's the sort of snuggly fragrance you'd want to put on while wrapped in a cashmere blanket watching nonchalantly the logs in the fireplace change colours from brown to vermillon to bright red to ashen, but Lutensian fans are not very season-specific anyway.

A sample of the upcoming Jeux de Peau will be given away to a reader. State in the comments what is your most fragrant memory from childhood not involving actual fine fragrance and I will pick a random winner. Draw is open till Friday midnight.

Jeux de Peau belonging to the export range of oblong bottles is out in France as we speak (79 euros for 50ml Eau de Parfum), but will launch internationally on March 1st. The Perfume Shoppe in Canada is already taking pre-orders.

*Odes 31, ver 15, ca 30 BC

An intelligent essay on the scent, in French, on Ambre Gris. Photograph in black & white Le Petit Parisien by Willie Ronis via Art is not Dead. Bottle pic via duftarchiv.de
Disclosure: Initial sample was kindly procured by my reader Emanuella. Another sample was later sent by Lutens as part of their mailout, so that is given away to the readers.

Fragrant Offerings (and more) for Valentine's Day

Beyond the juvenile "I love you" teddy-bears, the kitchy sentimental magnets and Hallmark postcards, Valentine's Day is just another chance to celebrate that which should be celebrated each day of the year: true love. And what is love but that force that surpasses all obstacles, all hindrances, to make possible the impossible?
In that vein and collaborating with The Non Blonde, my friend in arms Gaia, today we embark on a small homage to the world's most powerful god of them all: Eros or Cupid!
My first acquaintance with Scarborough Fair, the 16th century folk love ballad, had been in the version (immortally) sung by Simon & Garfunkel (contrapuncted with Canticle, a song about a soldier) in the iconic film of the 1960s The Graduate. Who can forget it, put into that memorable segment of chasing after phantoms? Yet other versions might focus our attention more to one "fragrant" passage in it, namely the line "parsley, sage, rosemary, thyme" which gets told and retold throughout.
More than meets the eye, Scarborough Fair talks about Love Magick. It talks about a couple who have been estranged: She has left him, he yearns for her and to rekindle their love, all delivered in a lengthy message over the song ("remember me to one who lives there, for once she was a true love of mine"), they exchange challenges consisting of impossible tasks which would prove they still have love for each other: she has to sew a cambric shirt with no seams or needle work, then wash it in a dry well, or find an acre of land between the sea and sand. Is it a reaffirmation of his pain or can love do the impossible?

Amy Nuttall sings Scarborough Fair.

The fragrant part of Scarborough Fair is indeed full of symbolism:

Thyme: Girls once used thyme sprigs in ceremonies to discover the identity of their true loves. A more upscale lady of Medieval times would embroider a flowering thyme sprig along with a visiting bee as a token to be given to a favored knight. A woman wearing thyme was once held to be irresistable.

Sage: Sage was once used to help childless couples conceive, and is associated with wisdom and longevity in plant lore. It was also used magically to honor weddings and to ensure domestic harmony.

Rosemary: Was once held to represent love and faithfulness. The plant was used in wedding ceremonies in place of rings as a sign of fidelity, and carried by newlyweds and wedding guests as a charm for fertility. But it also has the meaning of remembrance, as Shakespeare noted in Hamlet 'there's rosemary for remembrance.' Often used in love potions, it is also said to attract elves.

Parsley: It was once believed that only witches and pregnant women could grow this herb--Sow parsley, sow babes, was an old expression. The herb has been associated with witchcraft in England and also with death since ancient times. But more importantly, it is said to provoke lust and love.

Additionally, these herbs have long stood as "messages" to higher ends: Thyme stands for devotion, sage implies dependancy, rosemary (as Ophelia well knew) stands for remembrance, while parsley denotes a desire to procreate with said partner.
Keeping in mind these fragrant succulent herbs enter into many a delicious recipe (or even a scented herbal tea which lovers can share), perhaps the modern herbalism could recreate a powerful love potion, not only for Valentine's Day but for every day!
[source]

Music takes into other places as well, where the impossible is taking shape:

Greek-cypriot singer Alkinoos Ioannidis sings "Whatever love dreams".

"Whatever love dreams,
life lets them stay dreams.
But whoever falls in love
turns pain into a prayer,
turns the kiss into a boat
and leaves abroad..."

Extreme sing beautifully "More than Words".

True love is nevertheless often denied...due to inexperience. Or supressed manners. As in Lucy's and the reverent's case in E.M. Forster's A Room with a View (1985) where the possible becomes impossible for no apparent reason at all...until it dawns on her in the end.



Or it can be denied because it's just seems wrong. When it's possibly the only right thing in a messy situation.

Clip from The Priest (1994): One of the most passionate kissing scenes I have ever seen.



My own perfume preferences for Valentine's Day wearing?
Grand Amour by Annick Goutal: Because "love is everything" and he never fails to notice.
Passion by Annick Goutal : Because he loves it so...
Molinard de Molinard : Because this was his first fragrant gift to me and it holds precious memories.

Boxeuses by Serge Lutens : Because it's so darn sexy!
Amaranthine by Penhaligon's : Because a little skank never hurt no relationship.

Kiki by Vero Profumo : Because it's the perfect "morning after" eating-croissants-in-bed scent.

Hope your Valentine's Day is filled with passion and true-felt, beyond-the-commercial feelings!
Don't forget to visit Gaia's blog to read her own musings.

Calvin Klein Eternity (1988 original): fragrance review

Think of 1980s perfumes and think of today: See a difference? A staggering 11.7% ratio of Iso-E Super (a synthetic abstract woody note) ensures that 1988-issued Eternity by the-then-Calvin-Klein-controlled house was on the vanguard of something that would be exploited to full effect several years later. It also justfies why Eternity doesn't exactly smell like Eternity any more, as Iso-E Super concentrations have been toned down in recent perfumery restrictions.
Sophia Grojsman, the renowned perfumer behind this, is no shy violet when coming to streamlining a formula down to a few core accords & ingredients which give a pronounced effect: Tonalide and Galaxolide (both synthetic musks) are also overdosed, and her other best-selling opus, Trésor for Lancôme, contains a huge amount of Galaxolide, accounting for the phenomenal tenacity (Synthetic musks don't budge off for days on end).

Calvin Klein wanted to capture a romantic vibe after the carnal lust of Obsession and its racy advertising, forseeing the 1990s return to the cocoon and the conservative values of family. Thus an iconic fragrance of the 1990s emerged, advertised in serene scenes of a family by the sea, fronted by Chris Turlington (one of the top 5 supermodels of the era). Was the seascape kissing romantic in that it stirred the unconsious of viewers into reminding them of Deborrah Kerr and Burt Lancaster sharing a passionate salty kiss in From Here to Eternity? Possibly. But the execution was much tamer this time, all preppy and "clean", in tune with the AIDS epidemic which necessitated a (public) cleaning up of one's sexual act.
The name was inspired by the ring of the Windsors, which king Edward VIII had offered to Wallis Simpson, and which Calvin had later bought at an auction for his ~then~ wife Kelly Proctor; it stands as a token of timeless promise of love and immortality: "As long as we're together, time can't touch us" the motto went.

The characteristic peppery heart of Calvin Klein Eternity evoking carnations is dusted with powder (heliotrope, musk) and fresh notes (citrus, greens, lily of the valley), making the fragrance fit for summer or winter, as long as you use it with restraint; it's quite potent! But the overall impression is removed from individual notes: Luca Turin calls it a "loud rose" and he's absolutely right: Eternity takes peppery notes reminiscent of spicy flowers (like carnation) and sprinkles them on top of an intensely soapy rose. In short, if you expect something like the retro Bellodgia by Caron, you will be disappointed.
To really feel the rose beneath the carnation however do an experiment: Take rose-affirmed Paris by YSL (also by Grojsman) and spray one on the one hand, the other on the other. You will feel it all right! After all, rose is Grojsman's favourite flower and she manages to amplify its message in almost everything she touches creating that "cleavage" accord for which she's famous, from Trésor for Lancôme (allied with apricot), Bulgari pour Femme, Nude by Bill Blass, and Jaipur for Boucheron to uber-niche S-perfume 100% Love. "Perfumers have signatures," Mrs. Grojsman said. "You can pick up a fragrance and know who the perfumer is by the way certain ingredients are put together. I'm known for floral accords, bottoms and cleavage."
Memorably, one of the lines I best recall involving the fragrance was featured in an American film involving a gynaecologist molester: his preferred scent on his women victims was Eternity; "it smells of clean sheets" was his (valid) explanation. Creepy...



Eternity proved such a popular concept (it's a best-seller in France of all places!) and name that a legion of flankers (Eternity Moment, Eternity Purple Orchid, Eternity Rose Blush, Eternity Summer and some I might be forgetting right now) have emerged over the years, tweaking the formula to serve the zeitgeist. It's still available (and apparently selling well) in department stores under Coty Prestige.

Notes for Calvin Klein Eternity (1988 original)
Top: Freesia, leafy green accord, citrus oils (mandarin), sage, narcissus, lily
Heart: Rose, violet, lily of the valley, carnation, marigold, apricot, peach
Base: Patchouli, sandalwood, heliotrope, musk

David Yurman The Essence Collection: new fragrances

David Yurman after his first foray in perfume with his eponymous scent is issuing now The Essence Collection, a trio in identical bottles a la niche. The Essence Collection includes three evocative scents, each echoing the artistry of David Yurman’s signature fine jewelry and the emotions associated with three of his favorite gemstones - lustrous pink tourmaline, vivid peridot and glistening citrine. Each Essence is identified with a personal touch from Sybil Yurman—a fluid brushstroke of paint mirroring the gemstone-inspired color.

In the spirit of David Yurman jewelry, The Essence Collection is designed to be worn alone or paired, a layering game that "individualises" the scent for each woman. The Essence Collection has been artfully sculpted for the sense of smell by renowned perfumer of the original David Yurman fragrance, Harry Fremont of Firmenich.

Delicate Essence (Tourmaline): Romantic and feminine, with notes of pink pepper, lotus blossom and sparkling orange.
3.4 fl. oz. Eau de Toilette Spray $85.00

Fresh Essence (Peridot): Crisp and playful, with notes of sparkling apple, cassis, juicy red fruits and fresh greens.
3.4 fl. oz. Eau de Toilette Spray $85.00

Exotic Essence (Citrine): Mysterious and sensual, with notes of sparkling mandarin, casablanca lily, rose petals and exotic woods.
3.4 fl. oz. Eau de Toilette Spray $85.00

The Essence Collection will be available at David Yurman boutiques, www.davidyurman.com, and at Bloomingdale’s in stores next week.

notes, pics via press release

Perfumery Materials: Violet, Violet Leaf & Ionones

Although often spoken in the same breath when describing fragrance notes pyramids ~standard industry speak for the breakdown of effects in perfume appreciation (a not exactly accurate or realistic means of communicating a scent)~ violet and violet leaves are not interchangeable. Indeed they're quite different, from the romantic, retro powdery feel of violets to the cucumber-metallic-oily effect of violet leaves which adorn not only greener violet scents, but also many masculine colognes.


Violet, has a coy profile in its symbolistic facets: The term "shy violet" is not random; the blossom naturally feels frail and trembling at touch, even though it is sturdy. Thus it traditionally stood for modesty, calmness and sleepiness, traits often associated with females in centuries past. Blue violets signified faithfulness, while white violets were of a happier disposition: they symbolized taking chances. The religious world associates violet with the Passion of Christ and indeed Easter rites in the Mediterranean basin include the use of complementary colors - violet and yellow - symbolic of Lent and the return of spring with its yellow crocuses and daffodils; to witness the two traditional flowers in the Epitaph procession are violets and lilacs, alongside the daffodils narcotizing one's nose in the open air of the evening marches of course: One blossom low-brow and serious like the Holy martyrdom; the other orgiastic like the pagan resurgence of the Dionysian spirit as expressed in the awakening of spring.

A symbol of ancient Athens where it was used in scenting wine and Napoleon Bonaparte’s favorite flower (who preferred it rather than Josephine's beloved musk), violet is a complicated matter in perfumery for two reasons: First, the natural extract of viola odorata (sweet violet/English violet), although it exists, is rarely used for reasons of cost and versatility. Secondly, because there is the distinction between violet flower and violet leaf: the two have a world of difference in terms of odor profile, but that’s not always clear in fragrance descriptions. The flowers have a sweet, powdery ~and when fresh slightly spicy~ note, while the leaf is earthy, green with a cut-grass feel.


The symbolism of violets as emblematic of death at an early age is apparent in the John Everett Millais painting "The Death of Ophelia" and violets which stood for constancy or devotion were traditionally used in mourning. Most people however associate violet with Parma Violets (as reflected in Borsari's Violetta di Parma) a violet-flavoured confectionary manufactured by the Derbyshire-based company Swizzels Matlow; or alternatively, depending on cultural memories, with Violettes de Toulouse, violets preserved by a coating of egg white and crystallised sugar still made commercially at Toulouse, France. (try it in fragrance in Berdoues Violettes de Toulouse). These tender, playful associations might account for the popularity of several sweet florals in the market, especially when coupled with the intensely feminine note of roses producing an almost "makeup" vanity-table effect, such as in L'Arisan Drôle de Rose and F.Malle Lipstick Rose or alternatively allied to modern "berries" tangy notes in Guerlain's Insolence.

In violets along with terpenes, a major component of the scent is a ketone compound called ionone, which temporarily desensitises the receptors in the nose; this prevents any further scent being detected from the flower. (This is why often people complain "I can't smell a thing!", it's not necessarily anosmia, but too much ionones!!) Ionones were first isolated from the Parma violet by Tiemann and Kruger in 1893. Violets naturally include irisone beta, which gives them part of their olfactory profile. The discovery of ionones enabled cheap and extensive production of violet scents, cataclysming the market with inexpensive violet colognes which became au courant in the first throes of the 20th century. The ionones palette ranges from the scent of fresh blossoms to mild woodsy sweet-floral tonalities, while methyl ionones possess a stronger woodsy nuance, similar to iris rhizomes, binding woody and floral notes perfectly such as in the masterful Lutens creations Féminité du Bois and Bois de Violette.
Irone alpha (6-methyl alpha ionone) is a most popular ingredient among ionones in pure form due to its silvery woodiness and its hint of raspberry.
Maurice Roucel was the composer of the mournful, cooly wistful Iris Silver Mist for Lutens focused on the nitrile Irival . Violet is what gives Paris by Yves Saint Laurent its romantic facet beneath the embullient rose, but also the old-world powdery allure beneath the leather in Jolie Madame.

Violet Leaf absolute, on the other hand, smells herbaceous with an oily earthy nuance and naturally includes salicylates [more on which here]. Octin esters and methyl heptin carbonate are used to render the floral green violet leaf "note" with watery accents of melon and cucumber, customary in many modern masculine fragrances and the family of fougères (an aromatic group based on the accord of lavender-coumarin-oakmoss). It also gave the older version of Farhenheit its distinctive feel. If you want to get a good impression of violet leaf in a contemporary composition, smell Eau de Cartier. Several of the greener violet fragrances in the market such asVerte Violette by L’artisan or La Violette by Annick Goutal explore those aspects. The Unicorn Spell by micro-niche brand Les Nez is a peculiar case where violet leaves take on the greeness of just cut husks of harricots verts.
In Dans Tes Bras by F.Malle the tone comes from Iraldeine, a base that helps recreate the freshness of violet flowers, alongside ionones and salicylates. The aromachemical α-n-methyl ionone became commercially available around 1935 in Haarmann & Reimer's Iraldeine Alpha rein and Givaudan's Raldeine A (the main constituent of Fath’s legendary Iris Gris) which Ernest Beaux ~good friends with Leon Givaudan~ is said to have included in 25% concentration in the long-lost Mademoiselle Chanel No.1 from 1942-1946 (as analysed and publicized in 2007 in Perfumer & Flavorist magazine). [Read more on the history of Chanel fragrances issued by Coco Chanel in the 1940s, such as Chanel No.11, No.55 and No.46 in this article]. A modern example of violet leaves in a feminine composition in a very contemporary context is provided by Balenciaga Paris fronted by Charlotte Gainsbourg. A good example of the co-existence of the two elements (violet notes and violet leaves) is presented in a new Marc Jacobs fragrance, Daisy Eau so Fresh.

In short, violets and violet leaves alongside ionones and the other molecules used to produce these nuances, are an integral part of modern perfumery and some of the most recognizable "notes" in fragrances any perfume enthusiast should be familiar with. Why don't you try some of the fragrances listed and see what you feel about them?

Top pic kindly provided by Anya McCoy for my use. The second pic displays "stocks" (which we also call violets in Greek), Matthiola Longipetala. The third pic is Millais' Ophelie via wikimedia commons.