Chypre Rouge

Chypre Rouge - a strange fairytale, open ended All the polarizing reviews, mentions of curry spices, and messy opening experiences kept me from buying this for the longest time. But the name, the marketing blurb - aah so evocative- imagery + color of the juice itself put me under a strange spell that refused to cease. I always came back to this and eventually bought a «vintage» Palais bottle which I’m basing my review on. The pyramid here does not help at all to give an impression of CR. It’s non linear. And (of course) its not an obvious chypre, it’s Serge, hello!! There are no citruses present to create that vertical space/tension between hesperidic freshness and mossy dryness so characteristic of a chypre. But, my bottle lists oakmoss in the ingredients, and surely you can smell the moss, but only if you press your nose into your arm deep into the dry-down, or the next day. Let’s go. The scent translated into a color story: dark browns like lacquered antique wood + deep pine blue-green + rich transparent red with a cool tone, like a red gel filter leaning towards magenta. In the opening I get an almost black licorice-like and woody Immortelle with absolutely no «curried» notes, combined with an ebanol-like wood note. No cumin or caraway which are notes I actually enjoy a lot and wouldn’t mind getting. Then the red thing happens: a red tinged fruity Jello note starts swirling around me, creating a bewitching aura. It smells «red» but not like cherry, strawberry or any specific other red fruit flavor, but rather a non-descriptive red jelly, that plays a bit of hide and seek inside the licorice forest. So enjoyable! As the redness subsides, Pine appears in the near dark atmosphere over a very, very subdued amber and abstract beeswax. It smells as if opening a jar of pine needles that have soaked in syrup for 20 years. The sugar has soaked up all the aromas and crystallized and is slowly turning in to powder. The licorice is long gone and the «red aura» has become the dust in the windowsill of an old abandoned cabin where the «small sachets of moss and cistus leaves» mentioned in the press release are hanging from old wooden beams. From here the scent grows fainter into a dusty resinous thing, crumbling and disintegrating, leaving a faint oakmoss, coated with a thin confectioners glaze and powderer sugar, barely perceptable. I really love this scent. It has even landed a spot in my top 3 from the brand, which says a lot. Still, there is a problem to address. This perfume can be hard to grasp. Not theoretically or artistically. Before I catch a whiff, it’s gone again. I just want all the notes to come out bold and strong! Chypre Rouge is so elusive at times, I keep on sniffing myself desperately wanting to hold on to the beautiful and haunting first and middle stages of this composition. I just wish there was more of everything, because I’m spellbound, lost in a forest...and I never want to come back. Update: In warmer weather AKA summer evenings, the scent is really a much more bolder beast. I get a more pronounced beeswax and even a brief spicy blast of cumin and caraway, which is really cool! It feels more sticky, a tad bit floral, but still no where near what I expected from the pyramid. I detect bits of Arabie, Fille en aiguilles and Le Participe Passé in Chypre Rouge. It also reminds me somewhat of ELdO’s Afternoon of a Faun. Regardless of the gorgeous accents revealed by summers heat, I think Chypre Rouge should be reserved for cold autumn and winters, enchanting your every day life with its dark magic and fairytale vibe.

Some very interesting reviews here - I guess Chypre Rouge strikes people pretty violently, one way or another. Funny thing is that I can understand even the negative reviews, and yet I don't find this perfume bad or unbalanced, but rather, balanced unusually...like a Calder mobile. I can smell various elements - there is a LOT going on in this composition, it's not simple or sleek - but overall what strikes me is the dark, dark depth of this perfume. There's a dark-roast coffee element, along with a heavily spiced fruit compote, and yet it never quite becomes gourmand because of the astringent pine. Somehow I find that effect arresting, even addictive, on cold winter nights. A little goes a long way, so do not overspray.

I bought it for my Lutens collection not expecting to like it much, much less love it, because I generally do not like chypres. But this is not a typical chypre, this is Serge Lutens' chypre. Incredibly rich and nuanced. Very heavy on caraway seeds, I can practically taste it. I also get some kind of boozy accord. It reminds me of homemade glintwine I sometimes make when I have a cold. Also somehow smells like wet leaves and makes you think of an early fall. Beautiful, unique, unlike anything else. Definitely my favorite "chypre". Not particularly long lasting on me, unfortunately, maybe due to the age of the bottle?

You enter the enchanted forest, its canopy of trees a sea of red, and immediately step on something foul-smelling. No matter—you kick your boots through the deep sea of leaves on the ground and don't think about it again. Red and yellow leaf matter on leaf matter has made the ground springy with dark humus. Surely amongst all this bark there must be some mushrooms. You take a quick look but don't see any. Yet the trees are covered with a thick mantle of lichen and moss. Life in dark, warm places. Fullness of ends and beginnings. Somewhere ahead, there's a small meadow, red clover in clumps and borage on the borders.

A delightfully different aromatic chypre from this house that is not for everyone. The perfume instead of usual citruses opens with notes of caraway seeds and pine. The heart is jasmine surrounded by prominent notes of honey and bees wax. The perfume settles on a mossy powdery bed of oakmoss, patchouli, vanilla, slight amber and synthetic musk. The unisex perfume has moderate sillage and good longevity. Those into honeyed florals and chypres need to try this interesting variation on the chypre theme. Enjoy!