La Terre, La Nuit

this is an incredibly sensual and claustrophobic scent all at once. i’m an enjoyer of vintage oakmosses, which has definitely colored my enjoyment and delight of this scent, tbh. but i’d say this hits as a slightly more naturalistic interpretation (read: modern “natural” niche fragrances that are meant to smell more like scenes of nature and atmosphere, than they are to smell like abstracted portraiture à la most designer fragrances). indeed this is not musky, nor is it a soapy oakmoss at all. often i find oakmoss and patchouli and rose to smell rather like the expensive soaps you can find at a natural grocery store— pleasant, powdery-woody, but inoffensive, their depth stripped away in favor of placating a more subdued audience. this reminds me of an erotic novel’s description of a french prostitute’s perfume filling the room before she’s even stepped fully in it. objectively feminine and lacking in any padding or cushioning of sweetness for that woodiness. it isn’t actually that nuclear, frankly. it lasts all day but is fairly close to the skin. but it presses in on you. a velvety, earthy, dark and crushing oakmoss. a while ago, i read a professional perfumer who talked about some of oakmoss’s nuances possessing a rather vaginal quality, or like that of the hair around it, and i was lost and somewhat perturbed. having smelled oakmoss in its natural form and as an absolute (i am a very novice hobby perfumer), i couldn’t visualize it properly. yet here paired with an animalic tuberose and its fellow dry woods, there is an oppressiveness to it and a textured, velvety sensuality that brings out oakmoss’ natural sweetness, and natural “funk”. and i get it now. it is sensual in a way that is less flamboyantly, “eat me!” (a sort of sexy i have never enjoyed), and more “come closer”, but it is also very, very tailored to vintage sensibilities. a modern woman’s vision of a sexy vintage oakmoss. less pleated silks and fluffed petticoats of retro dresses — this would be a vision with a fur coat (and maybe nothing else). on a cloudy spring afternoon this hits quite nicely. it mingles well with the scent of a used bookstore, lingers on your rain jacket, haunts you well into the evening. that being said, i got one whiff of it before deciding it was meant for me. frankly the reviewer suggesting something about an old woman’s sex life might have the right of it.

If I could illustrate this fragrance, it would definitely depict "autumn fairy sleeping on a bed of rain-soaked moss covering an ancient stone in the forest". Sillage is moderate on me, about arm's length at best, but leaves a faint trail as I move. Love the tuberose coming through the prominent oakmoss and cedar notes. The sandalwood and patchouli is subtle in this, but that’s what wraps up this fragrance beautifully. I like the concept of this fragrance!

A very nice perfume for cold day. Warm and cosy. Tuberose in a woody perfume. Sexy, different, it is really a niche scent. Elegant & mysterious... For sure, you need to try! "A mysterious skin bloom. The rich notes of Tuberose, Rose and Jasmine blossom in the heart of an earthy and shady undergrowth. Patchouli, Sandalwood, Cedar and Oak Moss harmoniously anchor the composition. A delicate balance between shadow and light. La Terre, La Nuit writes a captivating and sophisticated naturalness."

La Terre La Nuit is pretty, yet vague. It's as if it is afraid to reveal its beauty, has a phobia of foreground. Imagine a delightful floral chypre that just wants to blend into the wallpaper when it could be so much more. It almost makes me angry, not quite. If this were more forward, it would be the best from Racyne. The moss and patchouli are absolute milquetoasts. The nerve! Too shy, hush hush, eye to eye...

Muted and unique scent. It smells like the floor of a forest right after rain. Sit close to the skin and I have a hard time to smell it after a few hours on my skin. It’s very unique and nicely blended.