I really do love this scent. I perhaps love jasmine more than any other flower, and for that reason, I am very harsh with my thoughts on any fragrance that attempts to capture that gorgeous scent in any way that does it wrongly. Jasmine should be explored, and has many facets, but some noses manage to twist it into something overly sweet and without character; this is not the case with Sarrasins.
I get a brief hint of camphor by way of introduction, alongside a gentle intake of jasmine and something citrus, which I assume is the bergamot. It conjures up a feeling of walking in a garden on a late Spring day, just cool enough to need a light jacket. Because it is not terribly warm, the heat has not done its work to open up all of the floral molecules and other surrounding environmental scents. Everything is measured in soft, gentle tones.
Later, I imagine walking into a barn, where horses nicker and the warm smell of well-cared for high-end tack is brought out by grooms to prepare horses for an evening hack by owners just getting off work. The scent of leather and something slightly animalic is present, but feels restrained, as though it is still in the background of the jasmine.
This is easily becoming a favorite. It is so easy to wear, and so pretty. Most certainly full bottle worthy.
24th February, 2016 (last edited: 25th February, 2016)
Lutens had previously released A La Nuit, which exhibited the fresh, sparkling, green-tinged aspect of jasmine. The result was a quite feminine, easier, green-tinged daytime frag with fairly mass appeal. I could never wear that. Sarrasins is the slightly feral, growling, clearly unisex Lutens jasmine that says “danger but it’s safe”, kinda like a scary ride or a bungee jump. The indoles can smell just a touch fecal to some, while the osmanthus is brilliantly rendered to affect a rather skanky leathery accord after about 30 minutes. But never at any time does Sarrasins come off as anything but extremely elegant and deeply sensual, even sexy. And man o man, does the heat of summer accentuate these aspects. my grail jasmine in the deep purple shawl....
A luminous femininity with magnetic seduction.as complex and fascinating as the woman who inspires it. SARRASINS is one of the most great,intoxicating and seductive jasmine scent ever.this perfume has a touch of earth scent that makes it attractive.a work of art by SERGE LUTENS that is not everyday scent,mostly a going-out-at-night scent for cooler weather. Classic,Voluptuous, Seductive,Floral,Gorgeous,Magnetic,Sophisticated and a Grown up scent.
Stunning true jasmine supported by another white floral accords, adding a note of subtlety,charm and sophistication to the parfume.the base notes of musk adds character to the scent of SARRASINS.with this strong scent you want roar:I am the essence of woman and SARRASINS is the air against my wings and also with this impressive scent you are confident of your sensuality.anyway elegance and quality of this perfume is laudable.
Longevity?Great on my skin.
Sarrasins opens with a powerful and radiant blend of flowers featuring artificial nuances of aldehydes and metallic notes but nonetheless good, elegant, foggy and somehow rarefied even if at the same time quite dense, rich and powerful. All is centered around flowers (a dry, austere, grey, refined, silky and shady accord of jasmine and carnation refreshed by slight balsamic notes) supported by a light woody-herbal base and perhaps a hint of benzoin too. As minutes pass Sarrasins warms up turning towards more sweet and delicate territories, always keeping it ambiguous and quite austere: the "graphic" feel is like opening the windows in a dusty, abandoned, once sumptuous room of an ancient house, with the white light enlightening dust, abandon and greyness. A really elegant, somehow baroque scent, distinguished in a cold, almost arrogant way; so cold it almost smells, paradoxically, a bit anonymous. It has however a peculiar and intriguing charm, an odd, icy, dark and unfriendly sort of elegance and refinement. Beautifully awkward.
Comparisons with the earlier À la Nuit are inevitable, but Sarrasins is its own scent. It is a less voluptuous, less indolic jasmine, and altogether more reserved – maybe even severe. I almost immediately get a very green and somehow austere jasmine out of Sarrasins. I also smell some hay and the merest touch of camphor or menthol. The camphor remains in the background, but it does put a cool edge on the central jasmine. Though I don’t find any actual tea in Sarrasins, it does leave an impression of green tea with jasmine.
Sarrasins continues in its green jasmine groove for some time, gradually growing sweeter and smoother as it develops. Then at length the floral accord sharpens, and in so doing begins to lead the scent in a new direction. Having grown sweeter, Sarrasins now becomes somewhat hard-edged as well, and then remains comparatively cool and aloof throughout its lifespan. Part of this increasing sharpness may be due to the spicy carnation middle note.
Sarrasins doesn’t so much alter as fade during its drydown. It clings stubbornly to its jasmine and reveals only a hint of sweet, powdery musk and creamy woods. I get nothing animalic, and certainly no civet or castoreum in the base. It’s also completely free of the sweet, syrupy base accord that’s common to many Sheldrake-Lutens fragrances. When applied very liberally, Sarrasins reveals some darker, leathery overtones, and more vanilla or coumarin in its base, but on the whole it’s a remarkable comfortable and congenial scent coming from the house that brought us Muscs Koublaï Khan and Tubéreuse Criminelle.
In fact, with its camphoraceous, medicinal edge, Sarrasins could be taken as an attempt to do for jasmine what Tubéreuse Criminelle does for tuberose. If that’s the case, Sheldrake and Lutens have lost their nerve, for Sarrasins is a far less challenging scent. If anything, it’s a sibling to Un Lys, or even Gris Clair, which are likewise crisp and clear. At no point does Sarrasins become thick or heady, and it wears quite close to the skin. I think ubuandibme is accurate in describing it as "sheer" and “transparent,” qualities that Sheldrake and Lutens have rarely achieved during their partnership. It conspicuously lacks the near-hallucinatory accuracy of Un Lys or Sa Majesté la Rose. In all of these respects it smells more like something L'Artisan Parfumeur or Hermèssence would do than what's expected out of Serge Lutens. Its limited projection and unusually crisp, green-tinted floral character make Sarrasins a “safer” scent than À la Nuit (or many other jasmines for that matter,) and I think it will work well for either gender.