“A first answer to solitude: warm bread.”
I haven’t yet smelled the new Lutens and I'd rather experience it than write a thesis about it based on the press release...
I do know it is based on Serge Lutens's childhood memories of going to fetch a warm golden baguette… The name, which means “Skin games”, points to other, undisclosed notes.
Jeux de Peau will come out in February 2011 at the Palais-Royal, and be more widely distributed in March.
The smell of warm bread, Lutens always brings such an unconventional point of view to perfumery.
RépondreSupprimerVitriol d'Oeillet will be the next Salons Shiseido exclusive release.
Uella, there's always been a strong current of childhood memories underlying his creations... Along with a criminal bent!
RépondreSupprimerAdoration of beauty, betrayal and crime are recurring themes in Luten's oeuvre.
RépondreSupprimerUella, absolutely, and that came out strongly in the conversation we had for my book -- on top of which, Mr. Lutens is a witty, funny man.
RépondreSupprimerFirst I should say that when it comes to Serge Lutens I am ready to wear any of his fragrances, and even those that I dared buy y unsniffed were never a disappointment. Some I liked better than others, and some seemed to betray the complexity, but even those seemed to me like links in a coveted chain. Warm bread? Who knows? If we remember the nape of a baby when it wakes up from its naps, that yeasty tenderness...and the prandial joy that only bread brings, then.
RépondreSupprimerDoesn{t Jeu de Peau lead us to think about the Jeu de Paume, which apart from being the museum on the Tuileries means also palm game? I perceive a promise of tenderness in the title.
Vitriol d'Oeillet? That I want to get acquainted with. Those names
EEM, I'm sure there are ways to wed the smell of bread to skin -- the butter, perhaps? I'm not expecting a realistic rendition: this must have been the springboard of his inspiration. In the press release, he speaks at length about the mean boulangère...
RépondreSupprimernota bene: Vitriol. Sulfuric acid prevails in the atmosphere of Venus. Isn't that a marvellous allusion to the planet by its dangerous materials? And then the mythical aspects of Oeillet - very promising
RépondreSupprimera mean boulagere,of course, everything tortuous...
RépondreSupprimerEEM, the name is quite a program... but then again, I'll only launch into the metaphors once I've "met" the product!
RépondreSupprimerAnd speaking of metaphors: "oeillet" can have quite a rude meaning in French.
RépondreSupprimerAs for the boulangère, she clearly made a very strong impression on little Serge.
so it is pandemonium set free...the Vitriol d'Oeillet has eschatological tones...Has he already worked with Oeillet? (I imagine what it can allude to).
RépondreSupprimerI'd say alchemy! No, there isn't any carnation in his repertoire... It's such an old-fashioned note, it's interesting to see how it can be treated.
RépondreSupprimerDenyse, how are carnations (the flowers) used in Europe? I know the post-Soviets don't like them in perfumes, because they were the "official flower" of Communist Party parades, graduation days, and so there's a whiff of oppression and boring speeches. Apart from Caron, I can't think of too many classic European carnation perfumes...what are the connotations?
RépondreSupprimerThanks,
Marla
Marla, they're not as strongly associated to events as they are in the former Soviet block. They're thought of as rather old-fashioned and a little cheap. The smell itself is also old-fashioned. There are few soliflores, as you say, but it evokes old cosmetics through its powdery aspects.
RépondreSupprimerIt's considered bad luck in France to give carnations to an actress: according to the legend, the star was offered roses but if you received carnations you were about to be fired.
Of course, Spain is different: gipsies hand you a carnation and then want to tell you your fortune; they are worn in the hair during feasts (the feria and the semana santa) and thrown to bullfighters in the ring.
That's interesting- they certainly do not connote luxury! And cloves, a cousin, are medicinal, being used in the first (somewhat effective) HAZMAT gear used in Europe. The plague doctors' canvas gowns and "bird masks", which were stuffed with clove, among other things, were an early bacteriocidal filtration system. Not something you'd expect in proper perfumes, and yet, eugenol, found in both clove and carnation, is almost ubiquitous! Though it doesn't always call attention to itself, of course....Thanks for the new cultural info!
RépondreSupprimer-Marla
Marla, eugenol is on IFRA's sh*t list... So I don't know how the feat will be managed. I have no info on the fragrance, or even confirmation, apart from Uella's comment, but then I don't read all the other blogs that pick up the info floating around...
RépondreSupprimerI can't say I'm stoked about bread and butter in fragrance form - most fragrances that signal "butter" to me come across as either bland or rancid. ( Here's looking at you, Mahora. )
RépondreSupprimerVitriol d'Oeillet, on the other hand... Is the most exciting Lutens release name in years, despite no notes officially being listed yet. I like carnations, but I don't like powdery, dainty carnation fragrances - which means most of them. "Vitriol" definitely hints at a bold and unusual take on the note!
Sugandaraja, I never get excited or turned off in advance by the announcement of notes: it all depends on the way they're treated. This is one of the shortcomings of perfume in the written form, that we immediately go blah and yay when reading announcements.
RépondreSupprimerI agree the name Vitriol d'Oeillet is fabulous.
Oh, Denyse, as a young girl I used to work weekends in a bakery to earn some extra pocket-money. I will never forget the smell of the place early in the morning when I arrived around 6am. Male sweat (the bakers),yeast, bread and fresh warm vanilla cream. I'm sorry if this is to explicit but the odour is one of the most arousing ones I can remember. Could Serge have smelled or experienced anything like this?
RépondreSupprimerI wonder about the bakers wife..
Illdone, you can never be too suggestive in this venue! Some men's sweat actually does smell like freshly baked bread... I don't know if that'll find its way into the
RépondreSupprimerbottle since it's apparently it's a childhood memory... But once it reaches our noses and brains all bets are off!
I think of two perfumes supposedly referring to warm bread... Bois Farine and En Passant. I am glad we are given a third choice, I find the two perfumes above not particularly appealing - En passant is particularly unpleasent for me, despite its superficial prettiness. Can't stand the watery cucumbers. Can't stand the prettiness.
RépondreSupprimerThere is a material that makes me think of warm bread so vivdly, I feel hungry when I smell it: real sandalwood oil.
I doubt the new Lutens will exploit this olfactory affinity, but I would be so glad to find some real sandalwood somewhere, out there...we will see what jeux de peau smells like...
Les SLs... I love them all, I don't love any... Too many, too much, and each not enough (though there are like 5 or 6 I'd be glad to own, but not to buy... go figure...).
Zazie, I can't say En Passant is one of my favourites either. A rare miss for me (not from the point of view of its quality, but related to my tastes) in the FM collection.
RépondreSupprimerFor real sandalwood, as far as I know there's still some in SL's Santal de Mysore -- apparently he bought up stocks when they were still available.
Personally, I own... I'd say half the Palais-Royal exclusives, and a few of the exports, so I guess that makes me a Lutens lady...
Denyse, may I change topic and ask you what you think of Ambra di Venezia?
RépondreSupprimerCybele, I don't think anything. I've never smelled it. It's not a brand that's available in Paris, and as it is, I can't keep up with what's here...
RépondreSupprimerNow Monsieur Lutens be honored, but do we reallly need a perfume which smells like buttered toast? On me? On my garments?
RépondreSupprimerI say NO, thanks.
I do not wish to smell like stuff from my breakfast table.
kind regards,
Martina
http://duftreise.blogspot.com/
Martina, do we know for a fact that the perfume smells like buttered toast and nothing else? We don't, at least I don't, because I haven't smelled it yet. The last time I drank Meursault, it had a buttered toast *note* but I didn't feel I was drinking liquid buttered toast, because there were many other notes at play.
RépondreSupprimerOh, and we often wear something from our breakfast table... anything that's got an orange or tea note, right?
Wait and smell... is what I think.
I'd like to second carmencanada's remarks, Serge Lutens has more often than not worked on unconventional concepts without being literal when it comes to execution style.
RépondreSupprimerooh how interesting- obviously that is a wonderful smell and I think in Serge's hands it will be less Demeter perfect reproduction that is hard to where and more inspired by and fabulous. Well I hope anyway.
RépondreSupprimerRose, I'm convinced as well it won't be literal. Serge Lutens has never gone that way before. I'm very eager to discover it!
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