Sarrasins

I confess, I’m not too fond of soliflores. I get bored with them quickly, and if it has to come down to that, I’d rather enjoy the raw material than a perfume built around it. However, if there is one soliflore Jasmine perfume that I am attached to, it’s Sarrasins. A soliflore made by an artist. I doubt there is a significant amount of actual Jasmine Sambac in Sarrasins (the real thing is prohibitively expensive for sustained mass production), but when you have someone like Sheldrake taking the lead while closely watched by a visionary like Lutens, I bet they can weave magic out of thin air. While I love Sarrasins, I must confess that for years I have struggled with it. I think it is beautiful, but to my nose, it never quite achieved the legendary status that has been bestowed upon it by so many critics and the fragrance community. I don’t find it leathery, challenging, spicy, complex, and surely not “purple,” although the way they hint at it by tinting the juice can be misleading at times. On my skin, Sarrasins always behaved as the utopian Jasmine Sambac scent. It has every aspect tuned at the right pitch to produce the most sublime outcome. A floral scent so beautiful, you know it can’t be accurately “true-to-life.” Therefore, why not go all the way and paint it purple? That is how it wears on my skin from start to finish, with only very subtle changes that I could easily let slip if I wasn’t paying attention. If I scrutinize it under a magnifying glass, yes, I can see how it could evoke a purple-like sensation due to its high methyl anthranilate content, which has a fruity and grape-like smell. I sense the indoles (perhaps challenging to some), I detect the green and spicy notes, and would even go so far as to convince myself that I perceive a suede-like texture deeply buried underneath. But ultimately, a perfume is meant to be worn, not dissected like that (at least for the most part), and in that regard, Sarrasins remains a rather linear soliflore experience. An exquisitely beautiful one, nevertheless. Everything is well balanced: the desirable facets are showcased in their full glory, while the auxiliaries are there but handled with great care, enough to entice, suggest, or, for many, even proclaim, yet never quite enough to define a consensus. Ultimately, Sarrasins for me represents the type of soliflore achievement that I enjoy more than the actual material. I don’t know if I can speak of any other perfume ingredient about which I feel that way. And that, with most likely relying on craftsmanship rather than the material itself. When I hear people say that you can’t render an accord that equals or surpasses the raw ingredient, I can only exclaim, Sarrasins! Also, for the reformulation conspirators out there, the current version of Sarrasins smells as glorious as ever; perhaps it performs slightly better. I don’t detect any difference regarding the scent profile between the 2006 Palais Royal label jar and the current iteration. And that is the main reason I suspect it never contained a significant amount of natural jasmine, because if it had, it would have inadvertently undergone some changes over the years. IG:@memory.of.scents

Lutens and Sheldrake love jasmine. So do I. They’ve given us some of the best jasmines of the last three decades. Sarrasins is probably their best, which, in my opinion, puts it in contention for one of the best of all time. Anyone who has lived with real jasmine knows that the best time to experience it is in the cool humidity of a spring night, when the jasmine blooms are at their peak olfactory expression, and that’s what Lutens and Sheldrake want to capture. So, picture this: It’s an evening in May, and dusk has passed with only slight touches of color on the Western horizon. It’s a beautiful evening. There is a balminess in the air as the evening dew begins to drop, the cooler temperatures and the slowly appearing moisture encourage the ground, grass, tress, and all manner of flora around you to relax and recharge after a day in the sun. The sky shines bright with a full moon, casting its white rays against some gray cumulus clouds, and gives the whole of the great dome over your head a beautiful royal purple and black sheen. There is a sultry energy in the air; you just had a wonderful evening with your lover and the mood was right for both of you to make more of the evening, and you did. Bathrobe on and feet bare, vulnerable and disarmed, you step outside for a post coital cigarette in the garden and you feel the cool wet grass and earth between your toes, and the air seems alive like the way you feel. On the breeze comes a rush of the jasmine growing a few feet from you, awakened by the moon. The smell is a beautiful mosaic of the warm glow of natural light yet the closeness and subtlety of dark, sweetly fruity yet milk powder dry, citrusy floral yet animalic and leathery, the green and slightly mentholated burning tobacco in your cigarette lets a tendril past your face, the jasmine seems to ask, “was it good for you?” A warm chill goes up your spine and down your arms and legs. Sarrasins is jasmine at its sultry evening and raunchy best. It’s the purr of a tiger, the electric yet smooth caress of skin from an amorous beauty, the smell and feel of their warm and humid breath against your cheek. At some point the evening must pass, the flowers must tighten up and prepare for the heat of the rising sun. Jasmine blooms don’t last long, maybe days at best, before they go earthy and fold in on themselves, one final push into the air before they collapse. Life goes on. The tryst is over and the cycle starts again. But man does it leave you itching for the next time.

glissading towards frosted flowerbeds in cemetery grounds. bowed head laden with black lace flecked with dewdrops. silent stillness of winter slowly turning to spring. delicate vines slithered through fretwork under moonlit skies. coyly hiding one's face behind white petals stained with wine. kisses shared on a gravestone. sarrasins opens with cold, dark jasmine with plummy undertones, almost icy in nature and draped in amethystine velvet. the fragrance feels silken and smooth like running water, yet viscous with a subtle syrupy quality to it, resulting in an accord close to ink. blackberry drupelets are pierced with teeth, bursting to release their juices onto snow-white jasmine, ravenous and eager to be plucked apart. ruffled carnations tucked into a corsage rest against a pale wrist, providing a sweet-spicy depth with hints of cloves. a tiny ray of apricot light shines onto snow. beneath it all, sultry animalia lurks beneath the petaled composition: powdered musk, oily castoreum, and civet with a pulse. for plutonian romance, graveyard rendezvous, and black dresses. i see sarrasins as the gothic younger sister of jasmin antique by rogue perfumery. where jasmin antique shines brightly with pride, sarrasins delicately broods in the shadows. the former is dominated by a bright yellow, banana-like jasmine that beams with sweetness—while the former gently glows in the dark with mauve, grapey jasmine. what unifies the two is a garden of lush indoles; yet a line remains drawn between their quarters, separating the sunhats from the baudelaire books. songs for sarrasins: winter by asylum party, rien by opera multi steel, le sommeil de trop by sombre septembre, i only think of you by the horrors, red ribbon by geneva jacuzzi, cemetery gates by the smiths.

Sarrasins is beautiful. I have never been the type to love a floral bombastic beauty. I usually prefer a complex blend, but something kept drawing me back to the sample. Sniffing the wax samples, my nose always landed over this one. Something creamy. As white, and soft as virgin skin. When I close my eyes & lose myself in the scent I picture only pale beauty. Unashamed, captivating and confident, she enjoys the feel of silken sheets & fine things. Jasmine so beautiful the smell brings to mind the actual tactile FEEL of a silken petal. A bed strewn with hundreds of them. And something darkly palpable, delicious tension you could cut with a knife. I feel like this perfume is for the bedroom, or a dark room. For a black dress, or nothing at all. It is for the white skinned beauty that lures you into delicious darkness. You follow her to your divine destruction.. And you go willingly into the night. Her night. Honestly, such a beautiful jasmine. Creamy, and darkly mysterious, almost palpably sexual, like a racing heartbeat & dilated eyes..I refuse to pick it apart further. I don't care to. If you love jasmine, this is a must try. I find it FB worthy, and I used to detest jasmine strongly. She has me. Time for a review edit, now that I've tried the liquid a couple of times, & I'm still very much in love. The growl is louder, there is a lot more "presence" here, than with the wax sample. There is a bit of a fruity aspect on the top that floats around a bit, but never lands thank goodness, its just for balance. I could see this perfume as being "moody" it may love you one moment & seem too strong another. But I love strong fragrances at night, and to be clothed in the dark, there is no better scent.

Sarrasins is one of the most beautiful scents I own, if not the most beautiful. I love jasmine, and that helps, but I don't think you have to be a jasmine lover to enjoy this one. It's a true "noir" scent, unlike mamy other scents that profess to be noir but actually aren't (see: chanel coco noir, jasmin blvgari noir, etc.) Dark, feminine, mysterious, creamy, magical and almost mystically alluring. It really is the scent of night. The indoles might throw some people off, but for me it adds to the experience- I think it adds a deeper, more rounded radiance to the scent and makes it feel a little dangerous. Really amps up the femme fatale quality. ;) But it's still sweet enough, especially in the opening, for sugar lovers like me. One of my biggest turn offs in scents is when they are too savoury and smokey, and Sarrasins remains a beautiful white flower throughout.. albeit one with an edge. Sillage and longevity are fantastic, by the way. This is the only perfume I would try to save in a house fire (after my boyfriend and cats, of course!) 10/10. I just wish this was more affordable and easier to acquire here in the US. The amount of money NY Barney's charges for this is outrageous (I see they are out of stock now on Sarrasins anyway) considering these jars sell for like 145 euros in France. Suzan Becker's ShopFrance is a good alternative to this, although still fairly expensive. PS- Anyone know what "Sarrasins" actually means? Would be great if a fluent French speaker would weigh in on the name! To summarize- this is a must try. Stunning and divine. A true "narcotic" floral. Edit - thanks to rossiniopera for the explanation on the name. Very interesting!

This. Is. Amazing. (How did this scent manage to evade me for so long? If it weren't sold out on the SL website, I'd be buying it *right now.* In fact, I'm crying inside because I've fallen in love with it, but it isn't currently available.) While it's not any better in the longevity department than TF Jasmin Rouge, it's still a completely different animal, and worthy of consideration. It's jasmine, but in a way I haven't experienced before. Deep, hypnotic, indolic jasmine... amped to the absolute *max.* That's what I get from this in the opening and mid-phases. It's deeper and heavier than JR (which I didn't know was possible), while still retaining that "I'm definitely a jasmine-focused perfume" characteristic. (The main difference between TF JR and SL Sarrasins, on my skin, is that I detect a bit of honey in the Sarrasins drydown, even though it's not listed -- which can occasionally go a bit sour/urinous on me, depending on the composition -- whereas JR dries down a bit more comfortably/predictably.) The hint of carnation helps spice up Sarrasins, and the musk grounds it a tiny bit... but, in the end, Sarrasins is all about jasmine (so, you'd better love jasmine if you're going to wear this). And, truly, Sarrasins is gorgeous. It's the velvet curtain of jasmine, descending upon the final act of a jasmine-centered play. Is it too indolic/too rich for many people? Maybe. But... if someone placed a bell jar of this beauty in my path, I wouldn't shy away. Normally, I might be deterred by such a dark-colored juice (knowing that it might accidentally land on my clothing), but in this case... I wouldn't care.

I normally prefer light and subtle jasmine but on rare occasions I completely fall in love with full-bodied, bold and carnal jasmine such as in this scent. Sarrasins captured my heart right away. It is a glorious jasmine scent with no trace of shyness or demure behavior. It is sensual and powerful, elegant and provocative. An unusual color of the liquid looks shockingly like dark ink, but in this case it reminds me of a velvet sky with myriad of stars shining over the jasmine grove where two lovers are locked in a passionate embrace. The sensual darkness of this scent reveals dangerous side of jasmine that I adore. The scent is carnal and in a way indolic. I hate indolic scents, but yet I crave this deep and animalistic jasmine. I admire that a simple composition like this could smell so complex and multi-layered. It does not overpower me the same way as other jasmine scents, but yet I completely surrender to its mystical charms. From the first drops and to the last, I am surrounded by perfection of jasmine, creamy and sensual. And it lasts and lasts and lasts. The staying power is superb and, if not overdone, the sillage is perfect too. I recommend this beautiful scent for all jasmine lovers. I have tried other jasmine scents, including A La Nuit, also by Serge Lutens, but nothing comes close to the beauty of this scent. If you love dark side of jasmine but can’t stand indoles like me, please give this one a try. You will be surprised at how attractive it could be when it is done right. Overall score 9.5/10.

This is my favorite jasmine; a jasmine soliflore of the jasmin sambac variety. It opens with an osmanthus brightness and descends into a jasmine leather darkness with vanilla and musk weaved through. It evokes the feeling of a clear cool night. Luca Turin said that Sarrasins smelled like it could have been part of a Chanel lineup. I see what he means. This is Serge Lutens doing French, sophisticated, abstract, understated chic. I do have some issues with the price/packaging. Sillage is intimate and longevity is 6 hours; poor performance for the price point. And I have to decant into a small atomizer because it comes in a ridiculously impractical apothecary bottle. But since I first sniffed it I was addicted. It is the most beautiful jasmine to me. There are none of the indoles of A la Nuit. On my skin I get leather/suede with an undercurrent of skank. I find it elegant and very wearable. Sarrasins is in my regular rotation, and as someone else commented, really blooms in warmer weather. Unfortunately the best of Serge Lutens is overpriced (bell jar and gratte-ciel lines). The best deal I found was directly from the Serge Lutens site during a black Friday sale. Beware, the customer service is terrible.

Sarrasins is rich, indolic, hyper-jasmine. Not green, the "sweetness" is completely floral and pollinated, not actually sweet. Super-musky. I like musk, I like jasmine, but this is so amplified, so heavy, not clean, not light, so honestly for me, not pleasant. It smells good in the sense that it gives me an image of hiking among jasmines on a suffocatingly hot summer day--and mix that with musk. The dirty grandiose kind of musk found in Alien Musc Mysterieux. This isn't like Alien, by any means, Alien has an interesting/attractive synthetic feeling, and it is kind of sweeter, cleaner, melds with my skin harmoniously. Sarrasins stands loud and doesn't blend with the skin scent, it's like a musky jasmine weapon, created by nature, unrelenting. I am anxious for summer,and enjoy passing heady flowers, as I get breathe in the fresh air. Skin hot, appreciating the Vitamin D that is like a precious gift after winter. As I write this, I am irritated. This emanates from my skin, and I don't feel up to this kind of scent. I wish I would have applied something fresher/cleaner/gentler--maybe something with citruses. Sarrasins has no dupes though. If you like it, I love it.

Congratulations Ms. Yourfoxiness for your excellent review: poetic, elegant and sensual. Sarrasins is truly sheer beauty. Something enticing and comfortable like a velvet cushion on a smooth bed. It is sweet, but mildly sweet. Creamy, very creamy and exquisite. It is like the effect of a magic spell. Jasmine comes first, indeed, with its unmistakable presence and spirit. As jasmine reduces its power (and it takes quite long to fade), Carnation crops up with an unusual green aura, most probably due to the influence of the stubborn jasmine which insists lingering. Yes, in the end there are floral and musk. Delicious musk, by the way. It reminds us of those 80's fragrances. Dior's Poison, to be more precise, with that woody-floral-musky final notes. Not the same smell, but a similar personality. Sarrasins could be the ambassador perfume of Les Salons du Palais Royal, Serge Luten's official boutique in Paris. From the cristal bell jar lines to the colour and scent, Sarrasins evoques quite well the atmosphere the boutique gives its clients. Have you ever been there?

Sarrasins is a mysteriously coloured liquid; a poison that clings to the skin and stains it like a bruise. It is a dark and animalic jasmine, slightly fecal and fruity; an aspect brought by castoreum—a material that also evokes gouache, ink and leather. This slightly fruity accent oscillates between concord grape and apricot, but also recalls osmanthus. Sarrasins is a warm, deep, indolic and leathery jasmine that slowly and languidly embraces, and then makes the night fall. I love this perfume. I was in search for the perfect sambac jasmine fragrance. After reeding a few reviews, I decided to buy a small decant to try it. I fell in love. Its animalic note is what makes it special. I bought a full bottle in January 2022. Sadly, Sarrasins has been reformulated between my sample version and the FB one. It is still beautiful, mind you, but that animalic note has been toned down quite a bit. I compared my sample side by side with my new bottle, then asked friends to confirm that I was not crazy. I am not. So sad. But I stil enjoy it very much nonetheless...

360 I waited for a long time for this one after having my sample for a while and I still love it, but ouch$ Also yeah, hate bell jar. I transferred a portion of the purple liquid into a nice perfume bottle with a sprayer. I love the mixture of the Jasmine which is a touch mothballish and fecal with the lightly sweet plummy grapiness that tames this. Someone said it was more animalic once, can’t imagine, in what way? This makes me think of lilacs for some reason. Also reminiscent(but not same) of Poison and Moon dance, but sweeter, fruitier. I agree it probably blooms best in at least 70-f, with a light spray. Anamandy-what is/are your favorite jasmine scents? Is anything else close to this one? I’m not a fan of the strongly fecal ones, but looking for something that is more of a pink jasmine fragrance or interesting interpretation. 9/10-nice addition to my wardrobe, yes, maybe overpriced but unique as far as my experience sniffing around goes. Not a jasmine lover, but my door is cracking open slightly to Jasmine interpretations.

The ghost of a female poet writing her final woes on a sheet of parchment. She weeps each tear of a thousand pearls upon the dusty paper. Drip after drop, the paper becomes soaked, but her words still hang heavy. Her hand writing is neat, and swift in manner. And when she scribes it is sure to strike banter. But she is now gone, like the wind in winter. Untouchable to the common man or woman. So now, she cry's and writes, her poems still being pursued by the living for her flowery language. How did she die? Not even she knows, but what she dose know is that a hole is in her chest that did not belong there previously. If she may find her killer, she would not know what to do. For she is a ghost, a spirit if you will. Untouchable, and forbidden. But if you walk in her manor, and you stride across the halls. You may hear the faint sound of whimpering, coming from inside the walls. Overall 10/10 I love this perfume. 😭❤️

A fragrance that captures the essence of Serge Lutens' dark aesthetic. Officially described as sleepless nights, a combination of fear and desire. La Religieuse (Sarrasins) is derived from the Arabic "شرقيين", which means Eastern. Sarrasins is a sensual and animalistic jasmine, strong indole with powdered carnation and musk, surprisingly intense. Sarrasins are surprisingly beautiful. Because it is pure enough, it collects the feminine parts of jasmine and infinitely magnifies the slightly mysterious qualities of jasmine. It is plump, soft, seductive. Unclean skin seems to have a fine layer of white powder all over the body. Black and white are all Sarrasins, which have no absolute description and definition. Inside the pale and feeble appearance, there is a sinister and gloomy temperament, Sarrasins is an excellent presentation of Serge Lutens photography. This has to be the best jasmine you can buy on the market.

I promised a further review when my 2024 bottle had sat for a while. My original had definite horsey leather undertones. Well worn saddlery that years of horse sweat had imbued with an animalic polish. This was overlaid with jasmine in all its indolic glory, supported by the spicy clove of garden carnations & fruitiness of Osmanthus. The 2024 bottle has lost the horse sweat & well worn saddlery. Even after 18 months of sitting, the base has changed to a simple musk. The clovey carnation & apricotty fruitiness remain to support the erotic jasmine. Yes, the jasmine is still dirty, breathy & heated but I miss that sweaty saddlery base. I do wonder if Musc Koublai Khan, which also has been rumoured to have had a formula tweak, has lost its infamous sweaty saddlery depth too. I think Sarrasins will go into my sell pile. I’m in the UK & if you’re interested & also UK based drop me a PM

Sarrasins is all about jasmine. Much indolic than other jasmine scents and much more masculine than any flowery fragrances. Perfection in the botle and history of using jasmine as most masculine flowers by Persian fighters. It helps you understand why males from Islamic culture often decorate their hair with jasmine. This is nothing about female. It can be at least strange for western people but we have to "recalibrate" our thinking. Sarrasin is like vacation in the Middle Eastern countries - warm and sensual nights, best food, amazing people. The fragrance is very deep, a litle sweet and woody. Jasmine in Sarrasin is very natural, flowery not artificial at all. You can almost feel juice freshly extracted from flowers. It lasts forever. It can be a little challenge for western man to weare it but believe me it is amazing experience. Go and taste it.

I’m completely smitten with myself wearing Sarrasins... sumptuous, narcotic and alluring. I can see why people have compared this to Jasmin Antique... HOWEVER, while JA is powdery, musky and mature (to my nose), Sarrasins ditches the dust and instead has a fruity umami quality to it, which brightens the scent profile and gives it youth. And yet it remains mysterious and undissectible... giving Sarassins her dark edge. She invites you in and seduces you with her magic. Beyond the atomic purple juice and exclusivity of it all, she truly lives up to her reputation. With this, Tubereuse Criminelle and A La Nuit, Sheldrake and Lutens have produced the most fascinating white florals money can buy. Sarrasins is giving the jasmine counterpart to Tubereuse Criminelle, while A La Nuit is more piercing, green and clean. All of them are pure magic.

This is simply the best jasmine fragrance I’ve ever smelled, and I’ve tried quite a few. It’s incredibly naturalistic, almost like looking at jasmine under a microscope, capturing every tiny detail. The indoles are definitely amped up, but never to the point where the scent becomes overwhelming. I don’t really pick up any other blossoms or carnation. They seem to just support and push the jasmine even further into the spotlight. I’m not sure I would call it a soliflore, though. It feels a bit too musky to fully fit that label. Christopher Sheldrake is truly a magician when it comes to working with jasmine. Fils de Joie is also brilliant, but quite different (less indolic and more honeyed). I smelled A la Nuit ages ago, and I remember it being fresher and more botanical.

I was absolutely not into the whole indolic jasmine thing until I met Sarrasins. One of the most indolic and dark but gorgeous jasmines I have ever come across. I'm not one for animalic skank but this, despite being so, is dewy and fresh in a sense which balances everything out. The first spray was a bit much, but it soon settled into my skin beautifully. There's just this thing about it that draws you in and makes you keep wanting more, purely addicting. Like the juice, it's dark, but not in a heavy, creamy way, but more like a midnight walk on a full moon that is shinning down a glimpse of light on the dark purple hue of the night. Dewy flowers surround you, giving you a fresh lively night breeze.

Sarrasins is jasmine, but not the easy, solar-clean white-flower kind. This one is green, dry, and almost austere, yet unmistakably narcotic. It carries a honeyed richness reminiscent of that sweet-but-not-sugary, nose-tingling aroma of muscat grapes, combined with wilted rose petals and the soft dryness of old paper. A slight powdery texture drifts through the composition, grounded by something subtly resinous and camphoraceous, perhaps benzoin or a balsamic nuance. It seems Lutens’ fragrances tend to share a distinctive olfactory signature: dense, textured, and perfumed in a way that feels both raw and composed. Sarrasins stands as enigmatic, intimate, and darkly luminous. Gorgeous.