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Posted by Dain, Wednesday, January 16, 2008 7:28 AM (Eastern)
In spite of its widespread use as a base note in practically every perfume ever made, I'll admit I don't really like perfumes that focus on sandalwood—I like it married to florals. This is very different from Santal de Mysore, which is aged and bitter with whorish curry-breath, this is quite sunny and bright, and reminds me of something that I cannot quite recall...
Georgia O'Keeffe's Red Tree, Yellow Sky, which I chose because my brain flashes yellow every time I come close to Santal Blanc.
There is a whiff of pepper that makes the inside of your nose shrivel at the very first, and then it smells solidly like laundry detergent, vague florals and aggressive chemicals, a dose attributable to the soapiness of the sandalwood. I get none of the cinnamon or cumin that other reviewers have noted (and what is fenugreek, exactly?), just an brilliant sense of clear light bearing down on me, quite tropical, but arid. Mexico, margaritas, flowers abloom, and clean laundry drying in the sun (but Serge Lutens himself gets bakeries in Lille, go figure). It has a lovely creaminess in the drydown that is more the sandalwood I know and understand, but that yellow light never really goes away.
Not for me, but I made the I-am-not-really-a-sandalwood-girl disclaimer already.
Labels: perfume reviews, serge lutens
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