Douce Amere

This perfume, another one by Serge Lutens, has absinthe as a main note. There's bit of liquorice then, but an equal amount of earthy wormwood. It's a party scent: sweet with florals, bold and strange.

It's like someone in a dress of magenta silk surrounded by women in little black dresses, or better yet flanked by two girls in red. She is captivating and chic. She's also a little wicked, with a tendency to drink a little too much, of course.

[dress by Christobal Balenciaga, 1959]

Bois de Violette

I've learned a lesson about perfume: sometimes it is smarter than you are. A well-made perfume is something to be trusted. Forget about first impressions and let it take a while to unfold its story.


Bois de Violette by Serge Lutens: candied violets and cedar. The violets are effervescent and floating, just loosely tethered to the very grounded cedar. On me, the violets are playfully not willing to settle down for hours, but when they finally nestle into the wood, it is revelatory. The scent is romantic and old-fashioned, but not something your grandmother would have worn. Instead, it's like digging in the attic and finding your grandmother's old clothes in a wooden chest, and also old photos and love poems–-evidence of her secret wild life. This perfume is like trying on those clothes and finding out they fit perfectly and look contemporary, so you wear them out that night.