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.

Bronze Goddess vs. Azuree Soleil

Summer is officially here and thoughts almost atavistically veer towards the beach: the expanse of white sand resembling minuscule crystals of sugar, whiffs of fresh ocean spray brought by the gentle, cool breeze and bodies sprawled on straw mats anointing themselves with the most exquisite fragrant potions: things that have a primitive call in them perhaps. If this is the ideal utopia you have been dreaming of, there is a fragrance to accompany it well enough and it is easily had at your local department store for a change.

It's Bronze Goddess, the Estée Lauder scent that substituted the much loved limited edition Azurée Soleil ~the latter art-directed by Tom Ford and then discontinued because the contract with Tom Ford had expired. In true business savvy mode Lauder didn't let an uber-successful formula languish, but giving it a new dress in the form of bronze packaging, a new name in the manner worthy of a mythological genesis and an imperceptible twist in the list of notes, salvaged it for the legions of fans who demanded more, more, more! And a makeup line followed, predictably.

Regular readers of Perfume Shrine might be raising an eyebrow by now, wondering what possessed me to review a scent that is not the typical fare for us and so late after it officially launched too. But I came across a tester at Sephora and I cannot deny that unlike other scents which evoke the atmosphere of the beach in sugared tones of tropical fruits such as mango and coconut or going the ubiquitous way of armfuls -strike that out: read chokefuls- of tiare (tahitian gardenia), Bronze Goddess is quite subtle, dries down soft and inviting and never veers into the too sweet; a major accomplishment in view of it containing the usual suspects.

But notes rarely say the whole story: Bronze Goddess really is a good skin-scent, what perfumephiles call a fragrance that evokes the smell of skin, not perfume. Truthfully, I do wish actual sunscreens came in such delightful fragrances, much like the legendary classic Chaldée by Jean Patou with its candied orange blossom note, which was initially conceived as a tanning oil and aromatized sun products for a whole generation of people in the 1930s.

The question is how Bronze Goddess and Azurée Soleil compare: if having one already justifies getting both or if one has dearly loved but can't replenish the older one, should they get the new one instead. The answer is they are so remarkably close that only if one is persnickety and extremely tuned into the slightest of differences should they worry about this matter. Azurée Soleil is a little sparser, simpler, highlighting a "clean" vetiver accord over white flowers that stays poised for a long time. Bronze Goddess goes through the motions with a slightly more refreshing citrusy start that fans out into soft woody notes before kissing skin with a floral, milky touch of tropical gardenia, a bit of coconut and white flowers ending on a whiff of caramel redolent of tonka beans and skin baked in the sun. Both have a slightly spicy tone like nutmeg that is not referenced in the notes, yet contributes to the warm body and sun dunes evocation.

Of course the definitive beach scent is an elusive thing and the most unique fragrance I have smelled which manages to catch almost every aspect of the experience is an indie, natural perfume called Fairchild, but it's not what most people would easily find. Still, if you do have the chance it's highly sample-worthy. Two more which capture the beach well are Aqua Motu by Comptoir Sud Pacifique and Rem by Reminiscence. For a similar "skin baked by the sun" accord, I highly recommend L by Lolita Lempicka, already reviewed here, as well as Aquasun by Lancaster which will be featured on Perfume Shrine shortly.

Estee Lauder Bronze Goddess is available at department stores in 100 ml Eau Fraiche Skinscent, 100 ml Body Oil and 200 ml Luminous/Shimmer Body Lotion and the official Lauder site says it's a Limited Edition. Azurée Soleil is found easily via Ebay.

Notes for Bronze Goddess: Sicilian bergamot,mandarin, lemon, tiare milk, orange flower buds, jasmine, creamy magnolia petals, lavender, myrrh, amber, sandalwood, vetiver, caramel and coconut cream.
Notes for Azurée Soleil: tiare (tahitian gardenia), orange blossom, jasmine, magnolia petals, myrrh, bergamot, mandarin, amber, sandalwood, vetiver, caramel and coconut cream.

*{For reasons of clarity, please note that I am NOT refering to the old, classic Lauder fragrance named Azurée (1969) which is a leathery chypre}.
Pic of Bronze Goddess courtesy of Lauder, of Azuree Soleil of Ebay, of Halle Berry of Yahoo movies.