Arabie

I have a long history with dear Arabie, dating back to 2008 with my first encounter with Serge Lutens at Barney's (RIP) in Copley Place Plaza, Boston. My entry into niche fragrances began with both Serge and Frederic Malle all those many years ago, and while that initial excitement can never be fully recaptured, it is fondly remembered—and its sensation felt all over when smelling Arabie. I saw the Serge display, bottles standing sentinel, looking artful, colorful, and tantalizing. The sales associate was kind enough to spend time with me testing a number of them, and I left with four samples: Ambre Sultan, Chergui, Cedre, and Arabie. It conjures up memories of dinner dates, sexual rediscovery, the conquest for love and validation, walks in solitude in the streets of Boston, the public library, warm sweaters and boots. It was a time before morning aches and pains and creeping existential thoughts, but also a time of naïveté. Arabie is sweet, and surely exotic, but it came to me at a time where I came into it and other scents with a blank slate, knowing far less about perfume note pyramids and construction, so I had fewer adjectives to describe scent, "its spicy, a little sweet, deep and rich, sexy." A little sweet, indeed, one of the sweetest scents I love, but not so sweet as to be a front and center gourmand, because there is an inedible waxy candle quality and woody backbone. There seems to be a jallab accord: this is a fruit syrup popular in the middle east that is made from carob, dates, grape molasses and rose water. It is often smoked with Arabic incense. There are also accents of prune, raisin, dried apricot, figs, these lactonic elements that flesh out the clove and caraway heavy heart. It settles into a comforting benzoin embrace, shaded with other resins and woods, captivating me down to its last whisper, and along with the other samples I received that day, my gateway into the fragrance as a life-long passion. This one is a very personal attachment, and while we as voracious collectors and discerning connoisseurs may find an affinity for dozens, even hundreds of fragrances, there will always be that handful that resonate in perpetuity.

Arabie arrived in the market in 2000 and its name means "Saudi Arabia". Serge Lutens says that Arabia is immense within us and embraces all fragrances. This metaphor is not as unusual as it seems, because the Middle East is known to harbor the richest spices, incenses, resins, and essential oils. Some say that the inspiration was the scent of Eastern spice shops and, as part of the concept, Serge Lutens sets this fragrance as "a caravan lost in the desert". The composition is a delight, just by imagining how such notes were combined. Arabie has candied peels of Mandarin orange, dried figs, and dates, as well as cumin, nutmeg, clove, fava tonka, benzoin from Siam, myrrh, cashews, resins, cedar, and sandalwood. When touches the skin, Arabie is like fruits covered with honey. The aroma of figs and the nuance of honey, extracted from dates, is very present. Of the Mandarin peels, you can't wait for citrus and sweet nuances. There's a kind of sweet-acidness that comes up from time to time, but nothing too noticeable. Arabie almost doesn't evolve, but as matures on the skin, the spices become stronger and play well the role of condiments that lend flavor and enhance the scent of other notes. On my skin, the notes of cumin and clove stood out. Finally, the Siam benzoin and the tonka beans enhance the eastern side of the fragrance and reinforce its durability on the skin, which ends with a little more creaminess and a soft caramel aspect. Arabie is perfectly unisex, has moderate/high projection, and great lasting, in addition of conquer many compliments. As said before, it almost does not evolve on the skin. However, here's a tip: if you like to imagine the smell of spice shops of the Middle East and are not afraid of bold scents, I suggest trying Cuir Mauresque, which in my opinion, has more power and presence than this one. Both are excellent perfumes and tell a bit of the story of love and admiration of Serge for that region.

“Arabie” is the first perfume I've sampled from the renowned house of Serge Lutens. Having read numerous reviews of his fragrances, ranging from the words of high praise, to the comments insisting that while the fragrances are unquestionably unique, they're practically unwearable, down to the utterly negative reviews, I became quite curious about what effect Lutens' creations would have on me. As the name suggests, “Arabie” is supposedly a bottled replica of the aroma exuded by an Arab market (or a Moroccan market, with which Serge Lutens must have some “nose-on” experience). I've never been to an Arab market but should “Arabie” capture its olfactory atmosphere even semi-accurately, visiting a place like this goes straight onto my bucket list. From the very beginning, “Arabie” announces its presence on my wrist intensely, first with spices, the most dominant of which is cumin. The cumin is joined by nutmeg and cloves. Also, in the background, the dried fruits start to emerge and gradually reduce the spiciness and add a dash of sweetness to the composition. The sweetness in the heart and the base is further sustained by the date. My final verdict: “Arabie” is an adorable scent. I especially like the fact that it lives up to its name and proves that even in today's perfume industry there are still individuals bold enough to translate their visions and dreams into fragrances without being too concerned about the criticism they may attract. “Arabie” is a rather challenging perfume as it preserves its dense, spicy-sweet aroma throughout its development. Yet at the same time, I see it as a very promising introduction to the Serge Lutens line and, oh boy, now I can hardly wait to try some more!

Let me tell you a story, of one of the 1001 nights. The year is 798 AD, and you're a young member of a local tribe in Arabia. You don't know what time it is, but it's dark enough for the moon and the stars to be the only light you currently have. A bazaar just opened tonight, and everyone is thrilled to see the spices, herbs, and delights that just came through from the Silk Road. You've always wanted to travel and go to the Indian subcontinent, China, the Levant, maybe even Egypt. But for now, you had to settle for the exotic aromas filling the evening air. Merchants were still stocking and people were haggling. Some people were playing foreign instruments, others were encouraging crowds to try a new tea. You were bombarded with scents and samples of sultanas, dried apricots, nuts, and dates. Cloves, nutmeg, ginger, and caraway powder were all blowing towards your direction with every breeze, tickling your nose, sticking to your clothes. Was that curry powder you had on your fingers? Towards the end of the market, you saw trays and trays of desserts. Merchants calling for people to try these sweets from atop their camels, and you couldn't say no. The sweet and syrupy basbousa, the flaky kunafeh, crispy baklava. You were offered a drink by a kind old man. "This is chai," he said, "but not like the one you're used to." You took a sip. Creamy, warm, sweet, with the slightest sprinkling of ginger. Arabie is delicious, memorable, and exotic, yet very wearable. It's very sensual and comforting.

I put this on last night when I received it, and knew then I loved it. However, and to be fair, I waited until this morning to put it on again and wear it. This is still a love. It's been on for 3 hours and has gone from very spicy with a sweet undertone, to sweet with a spicy undertone, to where it is now, a balance between the two. If my experience last night is any indication, in a bit the spices will come forward again and surprise me. The sweetness is not a gourmand sweetness, nor a cheap 80s vanilla bomb sweetness (I assume everyone has had the "so cheap and overly sweet it smells of putrid zombies" experience...maybe just me?). It really is the sweetness of dried fruits (but the expensive dry fruits that still have a bit of moisture, not the dry fruits that are coated with sugar and sold as a "healthy snack"). The whole fragrance is incredibly well-blended, and while the sweet and spicy take turns coming forward, no specific note is fighting for dominance. I've read in a couple of places that people compare this and LADDM (possibly because of the combination of spices with a sweet scent) but I don't have that experience. I love LADDM but it is much drier spices with an undernote of sweetness to keep it from going dusty. This is a balanced combination of sweet and spicy, which give the impression of being more moist than LADDM. A huge love. PS...ah yes...here come the spices again. Now I am purring.