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.

Two days ago, I scored from an old perfumery in Italy a sealed vintage Palais Royal bottle of Arabie. It is one of the first bottle ever produced Symbol Luxe International, batch code dyr02. Today the bottle arrived, so I am giving a quick rfirst impression review before getting into in-depth details later next week. Arabie has a very vintage feel and the image that came frist to my mind was my grandmother dressed up for dinner (she used to changed clothes before dinner) with her alluring trail of her spiced, deep, but never overcloying scent. Or you may think of Alladdin when he runs away from the marketplace after stealing breads as he jumps from basket to basket containing the most disparates spices. This version of Arabie is not overly sweet as the sugary dates and fruits are balanced by the pungency of caraway and bay leaves (which is what I detect most). It is not resinous and in the dry down for me is all about the cedar which sould gives us all a hint on how the cedar performed in the first (Lutens) version of Feminite du Bois. I can get the resamblance to Aziyade, but it is misleading: the latter is, in its actual iteration, an insulin bomb made of Maraschino liquer (sweet but not artificial) and then it enters another direction. But, and I agree with Alphairone, they both conjured up (to me at least) images of seductions; I would love to smell this on my date! follow me on IG @alexolympia6 Thx.

Some months ago, I scored from an old perfumery in Italy a sealed vintage Palais Royal bottle of Arabie by It is one of the first bottle ever produced by Symbol Luxe International, batch code dyr02. Arabie has a very vintage feel and the image that came frist to my mind was my grandmother dressed up for dinner (she used to changed clothes before dinner) with her alluring trail of her spiced, deep, but never overcloying scent. Or you may think of Alladdin when he runs away from the marketplace after stealing breads as he jumps from basket to basket containing the most disparates spices. This version of Arabie is not overly sweet as the sugary dates and fruits are balanced by the pungency of caraway and bay leaves (which is what I detect most). It is not resinous and the dry down for me is all about the cedar which sould gives us all a hint on how the cedar performed in the first (Lutens) version of Feminite du Bois and mhyrr. Arabie is all about the balance between humid and dry, alternating both the facets of swet and sour. I can get the resamblance to Aziyade, but it is very misleading: the latter is, in its actual iteration, far more sweeter, like Maraschino liquer (sweet but not artificial) and then it enters another direction. But, they are similar in the sense that they conjure up images of seduction. I would love to smell Arabie on my date! Consider following me on IG @alexolympia6

Dates and raisins coated in molasses and a hefty dose of spice Having landed possibly the deal of my life on a half empty rectangular bottle from the pre-flacon era, I remove the lid to smell the aroma of date syrup, fresh aromatic herbals and warm spice over a deep and complex amber. Like some hidden desert treasure, wearing it feels both mystical and delicious. Thankfully cumin/caraway is not reflected on my skin, instead I am greeted upon spraying it with a dense trickling raisin-like dried fruit condensate, heavily contrasted by the camphorous cooling smell of green herbal bitters. It may sound jarring, but to the contrary it is artistically executed, the entire constellation feeling drinkable but also clearly woody aromatic. As this stunning opening subsides I am left with more of the vanillic benzoic base accord of Ambre Sultan, but substantially woodier and darker, a touch of myrrh adding a more sombre resinous quality, the dried fruits are definitely still present several hours in. Where Ambre Sultan is metaphorically the younger brother of the two, sweet tender and pampered, spending his days in the comfortable confines of the palace, Arabie is the older brother, who has traveled deep into the desert, lived with the nomads and came back slightly stern and contemplative, perhaps now not as elegant as his younger brother, but definitely more interesting, mature and complex.

Serge Lutens is a master of the chic, sophisticated, non-traditional gourmand. Most of fragrances of this house strongly feature some sort of kitchen-inspired element and they manage to do so in an oddly sophisticated way. Arabie is my favorite of the SL line (with Amber Sultan and Datura Noir coming in close seconds) and it is arguably the most kitchen-esque of all. On me, this lovely opens with a fresh burst of candied Christmas orange and spicy clove and dries down to a sweet and fluffy fruited incense. The fruit here is never fresh; it is dense and dry. But it is still very pretty and refreshing, with dates and candied orange peels being the most prominent. The benzoin and myrrh and tonka come to the fore in the dry down, creating a near religious effect, which I absolutely adore. This fragrance is like walking into a warm church stuffed with fruitcake on a cold Christmas morning. And yet it doesn't smell like a candle or a candy bomb or something unwearably kitchen-y. It is absolutely divine in execution and competes with the likes of Chanel's Coco for my favorite spicy fragrance. It doesn't take me long to go through a relatively large quantity of Arabie, so I would say that performance is moderate. But while it performs, it performs so beautifully that I smile the entire time I'm wearing it.

How do I begin to dissect this perfume? My instincts say 'let a good thing simply BE'. I love Sherapop's review below, which describes Arabie as a thick slab of liquor-soaked fruit cake. She's spot on. And this is what amuses me about Arabie - it's completely cross-cultural. Arab fruit vendors, North American pantries at holiday time, Micronesian spiced islands, sticky sweets from Greece and Turkey. There's no escaping the fact that Arabie is like comfort food: warm, golden, honeyed, gently musky, full of those spices that rest between sweet and savory: cumin and nutmeg. But I put aside all those associations when I put Arabie on and experience it. It is without a doubt its own creature, like a spinning cornucopia of richness and depth. When I wear it, it feels incredibly indulgent, and makes me smile because it's so opposite from the trends in much of perfumery these days. It's opulent while others are minimal - deep and complex while others are sleek and linear. Arabie is the pastry chef who has extra sweets left at the end of the day and he's giving them away to kids in the neighborhood. Those smiles and shrieks of children on bicycles, riding two-on-a-seat while trying to balance a warm gooey pastry in their hands - this is Arabie. Just give in to the richness and love it.

This is unbelievably tasty, Serge Lutens does food smells extraordinarily well. This is an old souk somewhere lost in an ideal Middle Eastern past where luxury was in abundance. Piles of dried fruits, nuts, spices from cinnamon to cloves and cumin sky high, and you're encased in a hot bed of sand which is translated here in wooden notes. There is some candied sweetness, something warm from herbs and some ambery notes. The dates! My god, you can taste them! Transformation, delectable. The longer it sits, the more it evolves. Curry begins to come through, some more herbs bringing it closer to earth, just the slightest scent of orange citrus which keeps the fragrance bursting in brightness. There is a distinctly light and low sweet-smokiness from Myrrh, which is heavenly and divine. While Arabie is so carmely sweet, it is deeply savory. As it begins to simmer down and relax, out comes a nice leather-amber note which feels very similar to Serge Lutens "Ambre Sultan". This fragrance is absolutely perfect for a cold night when you need some good old fashioned comfort. It's so warm and inviting and it just wraps around your whole being in an embrace that doesn't waiver. 9/10

Arabie 1.6oz bottle I dabbed on Arabie after reading the reviews that it can be a bit of a spicy monster. That is definitely how you should wear it. I think a spray may even lean too much. It emminated from the bottle much like its cousin Ambre Sultan. Its got big silage, richness and spices. It really is perfect for a cold winters day to warm you up. Arabie was released with a lot of fanfare, and caused quite a stir. Now, it seems it has receded back into a forgotten category of the Lutens line with Ambre Sultan and Chergui leading the way in this genre. Spices, woods, sweet dates warm the skin. A leathery nuance adds into its lovely drydown. I always get a kick out of people saying they cant wear Arabie because they dont want to "smell like that" but run out and douse themselves in the syrupy florals and chocolate gourmands. Arabie is wonderful for the holiday season, and even a little but of spicy fruitcake memories thrown in. Youll definitely be noticed, and sporting something unique. I like to layer Cedre with it to add a floral touch and cut the spices sometimes. Ambre Sultan+Daim Blond+Arabie. Warm and beautiful.

I just hace bought blind this fragance and i feel Happy. I found a atore here with very good prices un amouage and serge lutens perfumes but there where no tester. I have been reading herr an on other forums about perfumes of these baranda and finalle i decides yo buy this one and lyric man. Regarding arabie i find It a very rich and powerful perfume. It is sweet and spicy and It makes me remwmber a lot the effect of tobacco vanille by Tom Ford on my skin. The smell is gorgeus for me, i really LOVE It. The problem is the longevity. On my skin It doesnt last for King time, maybe 3-4 hours and the projection is very los. It is more like a skin scent made for autoenjoy. On clothes It lasts more but It doesnt project too. Even so i am Happy with my shopping and i am sure i Will ebjoy this perfum un the íntima y. It has a. Importante placer un my collection but It is true that maybe this is more a perfume to cellectio ate than to wear... Smell: 10 Longevity: 7 Sillage: 6 Quality/price: 5 (ive paid 50€/50ml...) Versatility: 5 Global: 8

Oh. My. Gosh. I lived in Egypt for 2 years, and this scent IMMEDIATELY took me back. One whiff of this, and I was back in one of the local shops. Or wandering around in a Cairo souk, haggling with the merchants. Or walking down my street in Alexandria when the incense man passed by wafting that smoky goodness around to cover the smell of all the garbage. Or visiting with a Bedouin woman in her house in a small village out in the desert...far removed from the hustle and bustle of the cities, but linked to them by the same scent. THIS scent--Arabie. Note-wise, I get mostly incense and fruit (esp dates), with some pepper and spices. But this fragrance is more than the sum of its parts. For me it's not about the individual notes, but the fact that this particular combination of these notes IS the Middle East in a bottle. For me this is LOVE and full bottle worthy because of all the memories and associations it brings back. Again, Arabie is all the good smells of the Middle East in one bottle...that's the best way I can describe it.

It’s been years since I wore this masterpiece. Truly I can’t believe how I’m still off chasing every goddamn new thing in the world. I will put my beloveds away safely, while I chase some dragon, but let’s face it, I’m running out of time. The joy of art and creation. Decades ago I majored in the study of Islamic architecture. A conduit to the world of wonder, untainted in my parochial rural youth on our Australian farm. None of the horrors of it all, the then unknown malfeasance of religious hate, I didn’t know much about the deathism and bigotry, the slaughter of innocents, the killing yet to come, the whole gruesome history of religion. I learned about it all as the years went on, and it blunted my wonder at those blue domes, the ogee arches repeating on high, the music of the spheres, the myths of the silk roads and camel trains, the suspended dreams of dunes and oases and depthless starry heavens. All seared and bleared by our horrid toils. But not our Serge Lutens, a true genius.

A long-overdue review for this perfume that I've loved for years and years now. Arabie (Arabia, عربية) is one of THE genre-defining arabesque perfumes from Lutens and Sheldrake. Quintessentially "Lutensian", Arabie is a complex and mature melange of spice, dried fruit and amber notes to create a perfume which is overwhelmingly sweet (and challenging to wear) but nevertheless evokes a fantasy of the Middle East like no other. Here, the bitter herbs of Ambre Sultan have been challenged more than before with dates, prunes, sultanas etc, cooked in sugar into an incredibly thick and hot syrup, and slathered on the skin. There's a sense of being lost in a spice market, and Arabie doesn't fail to evoke shaded plants, patterned carpets and burning incense - it's the whole package wrapped into one. A quiescent stillness in the midst of a hostile and hot landscape, it is spicy, sweet, aromatic and paradoxically refreshing. For fans of Ambre Sultan, Arabie is likely necessary to try.

genuine Arabie it is - not 1001 Nights, but a vivid portrait of Marrakesh souk in all its bustling glory; sweet, spicy, intoxicating, yet unlike many gourmands, never boring, but fascinating, nuanced and intriguing; this level of unabashed, in-your-face sweetness could have been hard to take if not counterbalanced, luckily here the opulent, luxuriant sweetness of dates and dried fruits is contrasted not only by spices, but also by an animalic, sensually sweaty undertone of cumin and bay leaf; for that reason Arabie does not veer into generic candy shop territory and remains enjoyable and fascinating throughout the whole time; it does smell like standing between stalls in Marrakesh souk, somewhere between heaps of dried fruit, spices and tajine; and it is those gentle weird wafts of mutton tajine that make it so interesting it was very funny to wear this scent in Marrakesh for a fortnight, never before have I blended so exquisitely with my surroundings

Arabie has that particular way of doing fruit notes that makes it instantly recognizable as a Serge Lutens/Christopher Sheldrake creation: to my nose, it's first and foremost another variation on the theme that I already know and love from the other fruity scents in this line. My personal favourite among these remains Bois et Fruits, where the stewed/dried fruits accord is especially lovely in a cold and powdery way - but this warm, exuberant version in its bed of mild but fragrant spices is wonderful as well. It is quite overwhelmingly bold and sweet, though. That's not necessarily a bad thing, and it's certainly in accordance with an enticing fantasy image of the Arabian world, but still: it could easily become too much. So conservative spraying is a must with this one, and I also don't think I'll ever use my decant except on truly cold days , but with that reservation: full marks!

Beautiful, rich, captivating, pity I didn't have a chance to meet Arabie earlier. It evokes memories of places I have never been in this life, same as Indochine PG does to me. But I definitely know the smell of these rich woods and spices from earlier lives, such a comfort to be surrounded by these aromatic clouds and veils "again". On me it is very warm, hot sandy, woody-spice fragrance, with generously served table of hot tea and variety of dried fruits and nuts, as it happens in Middle East. I do not find it is gourmand at any point though, or that it is smells like a kitchen, - totally no. It is a Place, A Time, A person from the past. Maybe someone's clothes and accessoires, that absorbed smells of bazaars and oils. Most atmospheric and love from the first sniff.

My perfumes shop gave the best advice for Serge Lutens parfum: they really really react to your skin type! You really should try before you buy! I did not like this fragrance at first, smelling it on a piece of paper, it was far too strong and spicy. However, on my skin it smells wonderful! At first I smelled at lot of cloves, cinnamon and orange, but after half an hour it becomes a slightly sweet but warm and woody fragrance. I do not smell any edible pies, curry spices or oriental spice markets in this fragrance. I think it is a great perfume for women if you like your perfume a bit more pronounced and spicy on a cold winter's day. Not for young girls or people who are not used to wear a heavy fragrance. But even then: please try it first on your skin!