Alluring, unsettling, assertive galbanum leather. The nose (perfumer) behind it, Isabelle Doyen, calls this scent an “insomniac tuberose… a sleepless flower stripped of its solar finery. I had this image of a flayed, wounded tuberose in my mind, seeping its perfume like sap.” The idea of insomnia is a perfect fit. Nuit de Bakélite has the wakefulness of a green perfume but none of its well-rested freshness. This is also, it turns out, a tuberose, which I find difficult to reconcile. Nez magazine reviewed the perfume in issue 4: “A rooty galbanum with intonations of pea, carrot and green pepper spits out a scent of crisp, aqueous, almost poisonous sap like that exhaled in exotic hothouses. [Doyen] colours this with a buttery iris and verdant violet, tracing the broad but defined contours of a vintage green chypre. The tuberose’s spices are then layered over a smoky tobacco, submerged in hot resins, distressed leather and milky musks. Secreted behind its eccentric opening are the perfectly executed seams of Nuit de Bakélite. Like a brazen dancer dressed in a loud green veil, twirling like the visionary Loie Fuller. After a slow striptease, she reveals her houndstooth suit; fitted jacket and pencil skirt, classic and well-tailored. Suddenly chastened, she blows clouds of smoke in your face, drawn from her cigarette holder… made of bakelite, of course.”
Or du Sérail by Naomi Goodsir smells like sexy Thanksgiving—a cornucopia of fruits dripping with honey, soaked in rum, edged with tobacco. It’s the smell of the color gold. Warm, voluptuous, its texture balances somewhere between velvet and silk. A delicious and seductive scent for autumn.
Salt Caramel by Shay & Blue is a lighthearted gourmand: salty, creamy, caramel popcorn that is simply delectable. In my mind I was “saving this one for fall” while in reality I wore it throughout the summer too. Summons Halloween treats or a seaside carnival, whichever you’re in the mood for.
Jeux de Peau by Serge Lutens smells like comfort: warm milk, freshly baked baguettes, crusty and toasted on the outside with soft, warm, pillowy centers. Licorice notes are nestled underneath, complicating things. This is a gourmand perfume, but not in the usual sweet way. In fact, someone recently suggested to me that milk is an animalic note, and I think Jeux de Peau may be a point in their favor. Milk notes in perfumery (lactones) live on a continuum with apricots, coconut, and even osmanthus, and hints of those notes live in Jeux de Peau, softening the milk and blending its edges into the buttery woods. This is the scent of the idea of a hearth: warm, a blanket wrapped around you while homemade bread bakes in the kitchen the next room over. A cat dozes in your lap, purring.