Post by Trésor
Have you ever in your life encountered a fragrance which so emphatically mirrors your personality to the point that it seems to capture your very essence within those precious drops of sacred aromatic dew? I feel incredibly lucky to say that I have. From start to finish, this wicked brew embodies my identity in a way which no other fragrance I’ve experienced truly has. From the incipient beryl glow to depths of the exquisite drydown, it seems to manifest “me” and coincidentally enough was the very first bottle of niche fragrance I’ve ever bought for myself (unsniffed, no less!). You already know from the title which fragrance I am speaking of, the inimitable Tubereuse Criminelle from our dear friend, Uncle Serge Lutens.
Tubereuse Criminelle by Christopher Sheldrake for Serge Lutens 1999
Photo Stolen Fragrantica
Fragrantica gives these featured accords in one line:
Jasmine, orange blossom, hyacinth, tuberose, nutmeg, clove, styrax, musk, vanilla
The opening sequence of Tubereuse Criminelle is perhaps my favourite in the entirety of perfume and also what’s come to be one of the most polarizing among the fragrance community. On my skin the inaugural fusillade is a breathtakingly intense bravura of jasmine petals which have been profoundly doused in densely mentholated gasoline. I’m often told I am rather strange for this, but I absolutely adore the smell of gasoline so this entire progression is a bit euphoric to me. I relate to this genesis so deeply because I feel her and I are so much the same in this way, just a little off the beaten path.
Photo Stolen DeviantArt
Upon occasion I sense the slightest hologram of orange blossom but if I am being absolutely honest with you I have never been sure if it’s actually there or if I am imagining it simply because it’s included on the list of notes. Beneath the icy petrol fumes lay a tuberose, one who’s beauty beguiles me and leaves me breathless. You can detect every facet, every single atom of her velvet white petals and the narcotic ambrosia bleeding from within. This is, in my opinion, the most beautiful realization of tuberose I have found within a fragrance and worth every ounce of praise it receives.
Photo Stolen Flickr
As the composition progresses something quite fascinating begins to happen, the tuberose seems to further and further meld with the skin but never loses the depth, splendour and unadulterated hypnotism that drew me in so close before. Around about the fifth hour on my skin I can detect just the most delicate tendrils of softly spiced vanilla rising off of my skin. The note is not confectionary in any way, shape or form but a beautifully Lutens-esque vision of a skinscent that leads the way into Tubereuse Criminelle’s final breath on the skin.
Photo Stolen WikiCommons
This isn’t a fragrance that wears a terribly long time on my skin, about 5-6 hours, usually and the sillage is quite moderate. Though not incredibly long, the journey is magnificent and I wouldn’t trade a second of it for the world. From the initial glacial zephyr which greets you to her intimate swan song, Tubereuse Criminelle remains a study in the paradoxical nature that defines the very best of the offerings from the house of Serge Lutens.
Have you fallen under the Tubereuse Criminelle spell?