La Religieuse

I really don't think the notes listed here are accurate at all. I purchased this hoping to have a new animalic jasmine, but La Religieuse is anything but animalic, incense, or smoky. Now that I know la religieuse is A PASTRY—a variation on an eclair, it makes more sense. It’s a French play on words being both a sweet pastry and also a (hopefully) pure nun. It smells quite sweet, not like the whole pastry, but the smell of the dough after it has been brushed with a coat of sugar-water and baked. That sugary, sticky layer before the eclair is dipped in chocolat. The scent of sweetened pastry dough is rather persistent, and it quickly blends with a very strong musk, bright lemon or bergamot maybe...and green jasmine buds. This is not jasmine in bloom. It is the jasmine vine when the flowers are just tiny white pearls, and their scent is so sheer that you have to lean in very closely to smell them. I enjoy the drydown the most. Jasmine buds blended with sugar is a totally new concept to me. The verdict is that while it is a nice perfume, it is not remarkable enough. Jennifer Lopez Still is also a nice jasmine perfume, and I would say that La Religieuse is not so much better as to warrant the price. They are both musky jasmine. Sillage is very low, except within the first 10 minutes. Longevity is good at around 8-10 hours. Disappointed with my blind-buy. Edit 03/04/14: Now that I am going crazy sampling jasmine soliflores of all kinds, I appreciate the drydown of La Religieuse more as it offers the tender jasmine buds that other perfumes don't. I may hold onto my bottle a little longer (was planning to sell it.) Edit 03/07/14: I think this has become a huge LOVE instead of a Like. I have been going nuts sampling jasmine soliflores of all kinds, and other than Montale's Jasmin Full, this smells much better than almost every one of them, so I appreciate it more. It does not smell like bitter, stale soap like almost all other jasmines I’m smelling. The jasmine here is unusually sweet and true-to-life. This is better than A La Nuit, which has that unpleasant bitterness. I will keep La Religieuse instead of sell it. I have been “converted”—no pun intended! Side note: I think people have to judge it for what it is not on expectations based on the bottle color, name, or previous releases. When I let go of expectations, I grew to love it. This has turned out to be one of Lutens’ very best if you can finally understand it, the play between “the nun” and “the pastry”.

It's almost impossible to write a definitive review for a Serge Lutens perfume...they have such a life of their own, ever-changing on your skin, your mood, the climate...but here goes. I was lucky enough to secure a sample of Serge's new perfume. I have to be honest, based on the few reviews I found, I was expecting that I might not like it. Like it? I love it. There is a whisper of De Profundis in La Religieuse. There are other whispers ... of jasmine, incence, musk (and as one reviewer noted) mimosa, honeysuckle and narcissus. As for civet, I'm afraid I've never had the pleasure of smelling one! There is something eternal about it ... it seems to grow young as it develops - after a few hours you can detect the hint of a blackcurrent pastille. Fragrantica lists four notes - really? This is a far more sophisticated affair. This perfume alludes, whispers, hints, suggests ... and I think, in this age of candied sameness, we need some mystery. La Religieuse transported me to a little church in the French countryside, then to a flower market full of white flowers, then I ended up window shopping for cashmere on a very expensive street in Paris. La Religieuse is very feminine, classy, but gracious at the same time. It appears to be sexy too (it had a tremendous effect on my husband). There is a hint of Chanel about La Religieuse ... a confident refinement. Although long lasting, it is a skin scent. Interestingly, my husband continued to smell it long after I could. From the launch material accompanying La Religieuse - there's little doubt of a connection to Denis Diderot's 18th century French novel 'La Religieuse' (The Nun), which challenged the practice of putting young women in convents to remove them from society and forcing them to endure a life they were neither suited to nor wished for. In this sense, La Religieuse's disposition towards a skin scent makes a little more sense. Intimacy, a whisper, a secret scented embrace ... Update: Previously the owner of a 5ml sample, now a proud owner of a full sized bottle. I'd say this perfume grows on you - it definitely cannot be judged on a first wear basis.

sweet narcotic bliss found in a field by a church, tainted and holy all the same. grey lace mantilla covering curls kept from view. secret kisses between snow angels, elusive heat emanating amid nippy air. black cherries held by the stem between grinning teeth. the dichotomy of a white flower historically stuck between purity and dark sensuality. such dirty-sweet jasmine, utterly perverse in juxtaposition to puffs of orthodox incense swirling through diffused light from stain glass windows. sweeter in time, with buttered lily peeking through rings of smoke surrounding cold white petals from heaven; drops of cherry syrup red like the blood of martyrs strewn across. beneath the sweet sultriness lies a layer of dust on pews as snow falls outside. cold and grapey, with the heat of warm whispers and spices lurking beneath. i want to bathe in this, perhaps with the helping hand of a generous priest and a sprinkling of holy water; a saccharine baptism. perfectly suited for late autumn and winter. everything from jacques rivette's 1966 film of the same name to borowczyk's 'behind convent walls' nunsploitation comes to mind, bringing forth further memories of robert burton's 1621 book 'the anatomy of melancholy,' reporting that the temperance and repression forced onto nuns leads to debaucherous secrets and bursts of hysteric sexuality (first partition, subject iv). even with such sensuality, a distinctly unsullied purity reverberates throughout 'la religieuse,' a heart so clean not even the filthiest hands could dirty it with their touch. songs for la religieuse: play alone by asylum party, heaven's blade by coil, kissing and kicking by the last laugh, bloody snow by natural snow buildings.

This fragrance contradicts everything I think I love in floral fragrances. It's cold, it's slightly bitter and a twinge indolic-but doesn't smell like odors from the bathroom, thankfully. It's got the most icy cold exterior to an ultra-realistic animalic jasmine, like I would imagine flowers to smell inside the fridge or freezer of a florists shop (never been to one, if you could believe it). This doesn't smell like jasmine + tuberose, jasmine + lily, jasmine + vanilla or any other combination I've smelled countless times in perfumery. Somehow Serge Lutens manages to create an authentic jasmine bouquet plunged into ice cold water placed in a smooth ceramic vase. I don't think of purple when I smell this fragrance, like the juice would suggest. I see a mossy, or jade stone green, with punches of bright white. When I close my eyes, I can almost imagine reaching out my hands to pluck the waxy petals and rub them between my fingers. The dry down presents a delicate incense note, but it's not smoky or tickling to the lungs like smoke of any kind always is for me. It's dried incense ashes on a cold marble table, slightly sweetened. The opening is hard for me to love, but impossible not to admire. I can't seem to get rid of this one, even if I never wear it out of my house. There's something so austere and profound to this blend, it touches me to the depths of my olfactive core. I can't part with this, even if it doesn't feel like something meant to be worn, rather sprayed and meditated upon. A true masterpiece in my mind.

I'm no typical fan of jasmine. I often find jasmine to be too indolic, too screechy, too fecal. But not in this scent. This is glorious, pleasant, beautiful jasmine. I adore it. The jasmine is stripped down to its core. All the burlesque, the boudoir and the carnal is gone - and we're left with a clean, pure, innocent and angelic jasmine. I understand it's name - La religieuse - The Nun. I don't get much of the civet or the incense, or the musk for that matter. They're there, but just as faint shadows in the distance. Some would say that this is a boring and far from sexy scent. I disagree. This scents strength and allure lies in the unpronounced, in the mystery, the hidden aspects. The brighter the light, the deeper the shadow - and this is a radient scent, with the brightest jasmine I've ever smelled. It's sexy because of the story untold. When your nose gets used to the light,and no longer are blinded by it, what hides in the shadows will appear. It's a scent that slowly unravels its secrets. It's a scent that forces us to read between the lines. And suddenly there's a flash of black silk and lace. A patch of naked skin. Arousal. Passion. A single drop of sweat... And there she is - La religieuse - The nun - not as innocent as she first appeared. Sillage is moderate. Longevity quite good. It lasts all day on me. And in those last hours on my skin I feel the incense. A soft, smoky caress before she's gone. On my wishlist for sure. :)