Dent de Lait
Serge Lutens (2017)

I recall that in my childhood home, we had powder blue porcelain in our bathroom, including our bathtub. My Mom would give me bubble baths using the Avon Bubble Bath with its distinct rounded, bubble-edged bottles. We'd either have fresh green or soft pink, and I recall their overall scent and the texture, and man, did they really suds up the tub, perfect for pretending there were glaciers for my toy tugboat to navigate through gallantly. Mom also would use Revlon Aquamarine, and I remember I actually made a little song out of it while taking a bath, "Aquamarine...silly jean...aquamarine you're so clean."

Dent de Lait, with its peculiar yet alluring aldehydic yet lactonic feel, takes me back to the overall sensory experience of bath time as a kid (sorry Mr. Sheldrake, it doesn't evoke memories of losing a baby tooth). I perceive what I believe to be Adoxal in the top notes: somewhat rosy, aqueous, metallic, reminiscent of fresh linen. Of course I could be wrong, but I am convinced it was used, and this is the first time I've encountered it where I actually love its use (unlike Byredo M/Mink, which is a bit terrifying). This is accompanied by a silvery mauve sensation of heliotrope that grows milkier and rounder into the heart, softened with a marzipan. A cool, but not cold atmosphere, contrasting with the milk of human kindness; after all, we are bathing in a warm tub!

There are undertones of incense and minerals—the treble of olibanum not yet ignited, without any of its ambery, resinous hues. The heliotrope grows more powdery and soapy, soothing like a soft towel after one's bath. It's pajama time, off to bed, and a comforting blanket clean and tucked in. In the dry down, Dent de Lait wishes sweet dreams to you and your teddy bear.

A quirky beauty. It's very calm, very subdued, and yet so comforting and inviting. It's slightly milky, slightly metallic, slightly musky-skin-like scent that also feels clean, simple and just beautiful. This is not a downright pretty scent though, it has its quirky side - at times you can feel it smelling like drops of blood on your skin (the sour, metallic tinge), at times the milky facets get a little uncomfortable, but all these not-really-pretty parts, these slight hints of ugliness (or maybe - let's just call it humanity) do feel beautiful in the end, in a cool, subdued and very human way.

Do I want to pay Lutens prices for this simple little beauty? Probably not, especially since I don't dig the marketing copy about fallen teeth, but this scent is just simply beautiful to me.

Bright aldehydes start it off, with a notes of coconut milk developing soon. It is a think milk with a hit of creaminess. An impression of fresh blood is attempted - it is weak though. An allusion to the name of this creation.

later on an almond milk aroma develops in the background, with whiffs of white florals making a transient appearance. Towards the end white musks are very faintly present.

I get moderate sillage, adequate projection, and five hours of longevity on my skin.

An original approach based on the idea of capturing everyday events in smell - a bit like Demeter does as a mainstay. Alas it is a bit too pallid to excite. 2.75/5

Trial bottle, initial sparkly floral, at two hours settles into a warm creamy slightly almond drydown that is very lightly floral. Reminded me of a spring morning when bulbs and dewy flowers freshen the light breeze flitting the curtains, but nothing startling or exciting. Cosy.

Don't fully understand the negative attention this scent gets. I can only think it comes from the expectations that seriously talented and storied partnership like Lutens & Sheldrake engenders.

Dent de Lait is simple and pleasing, with just a hint of strange, to keep it interesting. Soft and milky, in the center with a knowing metallic wink to let you know that THEY KNOW the kinds of associations they're playing with.

In all honesty, the metallic(“blood”) note is very light. More in the vein of the aldehyde sparkle of White Linen than the full on misanthropic metal sheen of Iris Silver Mist.

Yes, musky, creamy... sweet cereal milky. Feminine, in a young, innocent way: not catholic schoolgirl uniform but white nightgown. Cozy.

Mild, slightly soapy, slightly metallic, musk. That is all. It seems to be walking in L'eau d'Hiver's footsteps but with weird unpleasant boots on.