Bois de Violette
Serge Lutens (1992)

The opening is a green and slightly clove-affected blast, that almost immediate lets lose the eponymous violet. It is a green violet let leaf note combined with the violet blossom, it a realistic rendering of these items, and has a powdery undertone with whiffs of chewing gum at times. An orange blossom is evident, also adding a brighter side.

A fruity set of impressions develops, containing ripe peaches, fresh yet restrainedly sweet plum jam, and a somewhat pale rose in the background. Whiffs of indolic hints are transiently present, with a woodsy undertone, mainly cedar, is noticeable in the background.

Later on a cinnamon adds a slightly sweetish spiciness again, associated with a slightly honeyed vanilla impression. Interestingly, this is not a typical creamy rich vanilla, but a lighter one with less sweetness attached to it than I had often found in vanilla or tonka notes in other products. Some white musks appear towards the end.

I get moderate sillage good projection, and seven hours of longevity on my skin.

A bright and pleasant spring scent for cooler days, which does the violet some justice. Some of the late notes are a bit pallid though, and the second half is less vivid the the earlier phases. 3.25/5

This one is a puzzlement for me. I love violet, but prefer the natural, powdery scent. I am not a lover of the sweetened, candied violet so prevalent in perfumes intended solely for women.

At first I got a burst of acrid cedar and pungent cumin. After five minutes the violet began to emerge, but this violet is neither dry and powdery, nor is it sweet. It's there, but so shyly so, I can hardly detect it. The woods move to the background and I am left with a non-descript weak sweetness that is not redolent of violet.

I will stick with my two favorite violets, the vintage Trumper Ajaccio Violet and Balenciaga's Le Dix.

This is a comfort-scent for me.

It's applying lipstick before a lone walk in the woods, just as the leaves begin to turn from summer to fall. The scent is really lovely. It is sweet, but the wood keeps it reined-in from becoming a pastry.

I think if you enjoy violet scents, this ought to be part of your wardrobe. It has "good bones".

I believe I'll need another bottle within the year.

Starts off with candy violets and then quickly moves into cedar. Much like Gris Clair the top and bottom notes fuse together and continue for a long time. The cedar is very strong and makes this a unisex scent with a smoky wood base. Well done.

Genre: Floral Oriental

I was delighted to find Bois de Violette available for testing – even purchase – at Bergdorff's recently, and given its reputation I plied my way past one of the most pretentious and ill-informed sales associates on planet earth to try it.

For me, wearing Bois de Violette was like lying in a snug cedar box filled with candied violets. Funereal, isn't it? Well, Bois de Violette is not a "happy" scent. In fact, it's close, dark, and thick, especially for its first hour on the skin. After that the lugubrious opening accord begins to sweeten and soften – first very slowly, then with exponential acceleration. Just when I think Bois de Violette is going to careen into the side rail of my tolerance for powdered sugar, its engine catches fire, and the resulting cloud of smoke redeems it for me. Once Bois de Violette settles in to its drydown I'm treated to the familiar smoky, spiced honey base that so many of the Lutens fragrances share.

Bois de Violette is an impressive, hard-hitting scent, one of those that I can admire without actually liking. All for the best, as far as my wallet is concerned, since it's at least one much-praised niche fragrance that I won't have to buy.

(An aside: Smelling the two side-by-side, it's clear that Bois de Violette is the inspiration for Tom Ford's ugly little Black Violet. Were Bois de Violette widely distributed in North America, Mr. Ford need not have bothered.)

A swarm of sweet blue-purple violets, adding up to a haze of sweet blue-purple scent. The cedar base is discernible after a few hours, but it remains firmly in the background. The violets here are both plasticky and candied, lending a juvenile, bubblegum-happy air to the perfume. I find violets difficult, though. No matter what the composition, they find a way to bully and talk over the other notes, leaving most violet scents (for me, at least) to perform as a singular blast of purple blue noise, sweet, high, and penetrating. The smell of violets in perfumery is so powerful and dominant that I cannot find any contrasts in tone/pitch or any significant development in fragrances that rely on them. And without contrast in tone, or development of a scent over time, you do not have sophistication. In my opinion.