Serge Noire (2008)
by Serge Lutens Les Salons du Palais Royal Shiseido

Serge is a type of weave pattern popularly used by fabric makers in the 19th and early 20th century. This little nugget of information may seem unimportant at first but as I delve deeper into the philosophical aspects of the scent, I realise just how crucial its role might have been in the 10 years it had taken Lutens to compose SERGE NOIRE.

I agree with some of the earlier reviewers - this may not be the easiest of scents to appreciate for it is almost like an abstract painting, known intimately only to the artist. But many would no doubt agree Serge Noire is one of the most evocative from the Lutens line, drawing upon the wearer's own life experiences and memories to make this scent his or her very own. Therein lies its magic.

In my mind, Serge Noire offers a noir (dark) reflection of life's very own 'serge' or tapestry, woven from bitter disappointments (camphoraceous gunpowder, peppery incense) and heartbreaking losses (smoky ashes). But against such a bleak darkness, a resilience of spirit (resins, cistus labdanum) allows a glimmer of hope (cinnamon and benzoin) to shine right through. Sure, that might sound phony-baloney to some of us but hey, not everyone has similar artistic sensitivities.

Forget what you know of Serge Lutens' fragrances for this is truly one of a kind - a perfect scent for meditation and introspection, even as I contemplate the unravelling of my personal 'serge noire'...

A complex blend of incense, dry woods and spices. I like it!

Cloves! ... and very ashy and dry honeyed cedar, incense, and spices (prominently cinnamon) that feel like they're smoldering right in front of you, only to have the entire composition fall apart on itself, and it's a beautiful sight and smell indeed.

Contrary to expectations, Serge Noire is definitely no strict variation on either Gris Clair or Encens et Lavande.

It's a very dry, woody and ashy composition with almost no sweetness whatsoever – the scent certainly does conjure up shades of black and greyish brown. If I had to choose another Lutens creation that could be paired with Serge Noire, it would probably be Chene – both of them are quite unorthodox and uncompromising woody scents.

However, although it's probably one of his most challenging releases for quite some time, there is still some déjà vu about Serge Noire. At first it wasn’t obvious but now it most certainly is – Serge Noire is a darker, richer and moodier version of Gucci pour Homme. Also, the pencil shavings association is still there but far more subtle, with the incense brought more to the fore.

Why it’s taken ten years to create this is still beyond me, but I’ll award it a thumbs up just because it’s their best release within the last two or three years.

[Original submission date: 26 September 2008]

Cinnamon and cedar. Its pretty air freshener smelling as is Daim Blond which I smelled this along with. This smells nice as a scent, but I don't think it would go that well on humans.

Well, they got the “noire” right, at any rate. Even within the first few minutes of wear, Serge Noire establishes itself as a dark, dark scent, with a dense blend of spices, incense, and aromatics that even suggests some of the big, burly masculines of the 1970s. The composition resolves into a bold, rasping accord of peppery spices and incense that’s held together by a huge dusty cedar note. The impression is one of simultaneous heat and darkness.

Notably absent is any of the familiar Sheldrake-Lutens stewed fruit and syrup accord, so Serge Noire is dry as well as hot. With all the spices and cedar, Serge Noire gets me thinking about Shiseido’s Basala, which I believe Sheldrake may also have worked on. The two scents are cousins, if not siblings, though I remember Basala as a somewhat richer and more rounded scent.

All of these impressions come within the first hour of wearing Serge Noire. Soon after that, the entire structure collapses like a house of cards, so that only the dry, dusty cedar remains. The development, if you can call it that, is one of the most bizarre I’ve ever encountered. The fragrance shrinks away so fast I can actually smell it imploding. It’s not clear to me whether Serge Noire’s transformation is an inherent property of the fragrance, or due to my own olfactory habituation. All I can say is that over the course of five or ten minutes all of the spices and incense that comprised Serge Noire’s heart are crammed into a cedar box and the lid slammed shut on top of them. Utterly baffling.