Louve

I recently suffered a bad fall and hurt myself; soon thereafter I decided that a bottle of Serge Lutens Louve might help speed my recovery. How did I know how it would make me feel? I can't say. And thus my first encounter with this masterpiece began. My very first thought after my first whiff was, "this is what a caring person should smell like". Not in a medicinal way, but simply as a state of being. And then cherubs began dancing around in my head, Raphael's "Sistene Madonna" cherubs, on clouds of confection, playfully taunting each other while bouncing around on sugary pillows in the sky. And then almond biscotti and tea. London. And cherry almond Jergens, the kind my mother wore when I was little. Paris. I began to realize, this scent is a masterpiece like no other. It's not simply gourmand, or almond, or cherry, or vanilla. It takes its wearer to a new state of being. It's not a place of discontent, nor is it a place of elation. It's simply a state of heightened emotion. Recently on a trip to Madrid I viewed a Mark Rothko painting "Untitled" at the Thyssen Museum. I sat in front of it and stared for awhile. At first, I didn't see anything but a purple outline and green box. But after staring at it, watching it for awhile, I started to see that underneath the green box, things were happening. A storm was brewing. Tears were falling. A war was being waged. This masterpiece, that at first glance looks like a green box, began to evoke emotion in me. I could feel that I was going to cry. Serge Lutens Louve is to perfume what "Untitled" by Mark Rothko is to art. At first, it may seem simple. Perhaps misunderstood. Compared to all the others. Cherry. Almonds. A little sugar. Maybe some rose. But it evolves into a deep, emotional piece of art. It simply makes me feel. I never wear fragrance to bed, but tonight for the first time, I will spray on some "Louve" before I go to sleep. It will certainly take me to a place of calm, peace and tranquility. I never understood perfume as art until today. This piece of art in a bottle has redefined what perfume is to me. This is truly a masterpiece. And as with all works of art, you may understand it and you may not. But a masterpiece it remains.

What an interesting scent, all the more so for its inclusion in the "Between the Storm and Clear Skies" (now known as "Mohair") collection; sharing its home with L'Orpheline, De Profundis, Iris Silver Mist, Gris Clair et al. This is a crystalline almond fragrance which hits a few unusual beats. On the opening spray the scent is awash in unadulterated benzaldehyde, almost caustic in its white almond potency. It's sweet, yes, but it hovers somewhere between a baker's almond extract and an industrial paint stripper. This, I suspect, is the hardest part of the fragrance to take and I understand why people are getting medicinal facets from it. Despite its ferocity, however, I think it's perhaps my favourite part of the scent, because it shares the stark, pellucid philosophy found in its 'Mohair' brethren. Tough to justify when smelled right off the skin... but if this was wafting out from beneath a cosy jumper it would be extremely alluring and comforting. Almonds and cherries are closely related trees and are very often paired in foods (like Cherry Bakewell tarts) but I get more a suggestion of cherry than an obvious note in this scent - I think it's a synthetic almond posing as an almond/ cherry blast. I find it's not quite as sweet as Amaretto but feels just as likely to take the lining off your throat. The scent does soften up a little as it goes on, gradually gaining in powderiness, edibility and rosy floralcy over the first hour until it reaches a more serene, gentle (and likeable) standstill, but still maintains its aggressively white exterior. It's soft fruit, oceans of almond flour and roses from hour one until its rose-tinted musky death around 6 hours in. To compare briefly to Rahat Loukoum, Louve is crystalline, 'whiter', colder and less overtly edible. Rahat Loukoum's scent is more gelatinous and maintains a powdery feel just like Turkish Delight; it's sweeter and has more rose.

It starts strong as a combination of black cherry liquor and old sherry. Not very sweet, neither too alcoholic. I rarely love gourmand fragrances, fortunately this one has something more than that, there is a sensual- velvety note: musk. I also love the resin touch. It is not much, just enough to save it from being another common almond scent. Floral tones? I don’t really get them. I suspect they get lost between the almond tones and add more complexity to them. Like it or not, this is not a common fragrance. As in many other Lutens, you can feel the creativity and the sophisticated nose that tried to bring individuality to his work. The amber adds a gold-ish, liquor-ish feeling to the whole construction. It becomes stronger in the dry down and is very well balanced by the vanilla note. Sometimes I feel a soft powdery tone as well. I guess another face of the almond oil. I am not sure I could wear it as it doesn’t work with my personality, however it is a “must experience” kind of fume. Heavenly tempting. 8.0/10 PS The floral notes are more noticeable after 2 hours. They are still hard to define and feel more like a veil.

To me Louve is definitely a gourmand: it's pure cherry marzipan, quite syrupy and so sweet that it borders on sickly (without quite getting there, luckily). As time goes on it becomes dryer and softer, the syrupy quality calms down a bit, but on my skin the core scent remains the same, and very edible, all the way through. It takes some getting used to, the almost medicinal sweetness may seem a bit too much at first, and I can easily imagine it being nauseating in hot weather, but after some wearings on colder days I like it very much. It's the most straightforward Lutens I've tried so far, but who needs layers of depths and distinct phases when the original smell is so nice and comforting? "Comforting" is a word that I've used to describe every Lutens that I've reviewed, but it's true, and this one is no different: a comfort blanket in a bottle, to wrap around you all day when you need it, without being at all childlike for all that. Another one to add to the "perfect for fall, winter and general emotional support" pile!

I expected to hate this, but I don't. It is the second Serge Lutens I have tried, and the second strange, public-toilet-air-freshener opening. Is this a thing? This is a peculiar cherry-almond odor that reminds me of state-park restroom hand soap. It's an aggressive clean that suggests profound filth. Since I'm not presently IN a state park restroom, I am intrigued, rather than disgusted, as in "Ok, man, I'll stick around to see where this is going." It goes briefly to Cherry Heering before settling on Luden's cherry cough drops-- in particular the weird, addictive comfort of them, as they ride the line between candy and medicine. A few hours in, there is still the cherry-almond note, but the rose and iris are coming up, with the odd effect of walking into an old mom-and-pop pharmacy with a soda fountain inside. It's Jergen's hand cream and Rose-milk lotion and fountain cherry Coke. I'm not sure where I would go in this perfume, except a on a Sunday drive down memory lane, but I'm surprised how much I like wearing it.