Do you ever think of certain scents as “warm” or “cool”? I do. Amber, leather, oakmoss, and wood smell warm to me, while herbs, citrus, green notes, and ozone smell cool. Florals can go either way, especially rose. Most perfumes seem to have an overall warm or cool flavor to them, too, or they start out cool then turn warm. Serge Lutens L’Orpheline bucks the trend by straddling both cool and warm notes at the same time. In the end, the fragrance feels like a worthy complement to a rainy autumn afternoon.
In true Serge fashion, the press material surrounding L’Orpheline’s release is more mystical than practical. (I imagine members of some future cult bowing to a huge black-and-white portrait of Serge Lutens while chanting bits from leather-bound perfume box inserts.) We do know that the fragrance was developed by perfumer Christopher Sheldrake and includes notes of incense, ashes and musk.
L’Orpheline kicks off with a burst of lavender and, I swear, mint, hinting at Gris Clair. (Note: L’Orpheline’s top notes smell more complete when it’s sprayed than when it’s dabbed from a sample vial. I had the chance to test it from an atomizer in Paris, and its herbal beginning really stood out.) This part of L’Orpheline comes off as cool to me and even a little standoffish. Underlying the lavender is a wet, slightly sour incense that feels both warm and cool. In an unusual twist, spicy clove or carnation clings to the incense. Again, more warm plus cool notes.
Before long, L’Orpheline has absorbed the lavender. While the incense-clove combination still hums along, the fragrance now brings out the big guns: Patchouli with a capital “P.” Maybe it’s my patchouli-amping skin, but I get cushions and cushions of warm, slightly dirty patchouli puffing its way around the spice and incense.
After a few hours, L’Orpheline’s incense fades, and the fragrance settles into a sweet, slightly spicy, musky patchouli that clings to skin for most of the day. Although L’Orpheline is persistent and has body, I wouldn’t call it obnoxiously assertive. It’s perfectly unisex, too, and I think anyone from Rocky Balboa to Rita Hayworth would feel comfortable in it (if, say, either were still alive).
To me, this is one of the best fragrances Serge Lutens has released lately, even if it won't dethrone my beloved Chêne or Iris Silver Mist, Bois de Violette, Féminité du Bois, Fleurs d’Oranger, and a few others. Like these fragrances, L’Orpheline has a definite signature and personality. That’s why I keep coming back to Serge’s fragrances. Even if I won’t be binding my perfume inserts in leather any time soon.
Serge Lutens L’Orpheline Eau de Parfum Haute Concentration is $140 for 50 ml and comes in the rectangular export bottle. For information on where to buy it, see Serge Lutens under Perfume Houses.
Hmmm. I didn’t like this one- had a (purposely) synthetic buzziness to me. But I did love Santal Majascule, so I guess Serge has pandered enough to me recently anyway.
Somehow I missed Santal Majascule. (How did that happen? Maybe I saw it and confused it with Santal de Mysore.) In any case, I think you really have to be a patchouli lover to get along with this one. All I can smell on a cardigan I wore when I sampled L’Orpheline is patch patch patch.
Only two comments? Tough crowd. I can’t wait to try this one but my local store has kind of a lag. I’d love to smell something so full of character, though I’ve enjoyed even more recent exports. I’ve always been surprised Monsieur Lutens hasn’t used patchouli more, though I do thoroughly LOVE Borneo 1836, one of my all time favorites.
Also, I greatly enjoy your articles, as always.
Thank you for the compliment!
Yes, once the patchouli settled in, I realized that I couldn’t think of any patchouli-lush fragrances of his besides Borneo. But this patch is less chocolatey and earthy than Borneo, although it’s a far cry from a clean patchouli. I’d love to know what you think when you try it.
Now you two made me crave Bornéo! Will have to wear it today.
It’s such a singular fragrance. Enjoy it today!
Jealous! I ran out last winter after breaking open my decant’s atomizer and dabbing the last drop out! I’m going to have to get a heftier decant next time there’s a percent-off code floating around.
I know that desperate move–prying open decants, etc. For a few decants and samples, I keep the empty vials around just so I can try to huff out a whiff of them.
“I imagine members of some future cult bowing to a huge black-and-white portrait of Serge Lutens while chanting bits from leather-bound perfume box inserts.” Ha! Laughed so hard I almost spit up my apple juice.
But it’s true, don’t you agree? (Hey, apple juice is really good this time of year!)
From the reviews I’ve read here, and on other perfume blogs, this scent seems to be very polarizing! And so of course, I must try it! I love patchouli, so I think I might like it.
Also, this is the one SL that has an interesting ad copy story – the rest have been far too over-the-top to me.
I have a rough time navigating a lot of his ad copy. I suppose it’s more interesting than the traditional “sexy, modern woman” stuff, though.
Lutens was a little bit more forthcoming about the backstory to L’Orpheline — the autobiographical dimension, that is — in the interview he gave me (posted this week on Grain de Musc). His story indirectly explains (more or less) the interplay between “masculine” and “feminine” notes. And also, a little bit, why he never explains the notes, but prefers to give a story…
I can’t wait to read it! Thank you for letting us know.
The first part came out Monday. I’ll be posting the second part on Wednesday and the third on Friday (it was quite a long conversation…).
Where is my time machine so I can join this cult?
Hey, maybe you’ll have to start it and be its leader!
I wanted to love this one but it smelled barbershoppy and masculine on me – probably due to the lavender.
Oh, I bet that’s it. Lavendar is so tricky…
I deeply disliked it – mainly because it made me really sad. L’Orpheline means orfan and I could not put this aside – being alone, being left alone. That and I guess the weird combo – though I love alvender and patchouli, and for usual admire Sheldrakes work.
This was too insane. Rather take Fourreau Noir or Serge Noir. And these two are also really hard to wear…
Would you like it if it were named something else?
I have a hard time with Fourreau Noir, but I love Serge Noir.