Nuit de Cellophane by Serge Lutens: Perfume Review

As undeniably pretty and conventional as a bouquet bought as a present, when one doesn't know what else to give - this is, to me, Nuit de Cellophane. Does that sound like a Serge Lutens scent to you? To me neither, but I am glad that it is not "an obvious Lutens perfume", i.e not oriental, not all base notes and does not have immortelle. For a long time now I wished the maitre would move on to pastures less dark, and Nuit de Cellophane might be a sign of such a move, or at least it might provide a welcome temporary break from the orientals. Since I am not a French speaker, the "cellophane" part of the name seemed rather morbid to me at first in a Twin Peaks sort of way. But I got over it, and now feel that "cellophane" is there to point out the- probably intentional and stylized- conventionality of a composition. The crinkly, sparkly conventionality of transparent cellulose covering a bouquet of pastel roses. The generic aspect, to me, starts midway through the development of the scent. The beginning is actually very interesting, a bright, fresh fruity-green accord that blends already apricotty osmanthus with more (unripe) aprictots and something verdant and dry. There is liveliness and effervescence in the top notes of Nuit de Cellophane that I adore. When the blend becomes creamier, and what makes it so I am not sure (more osmanthus, jasmine, almonds, honey? all of the above?), it becomes, as a dear friend put it, a smell of a perfume section of Sephora. Sort of a collective image of various pleasantly smelling fruity-florals. The base notes continue on the creamy road, but make it a tiny bit darker, muskier and woodier; this is where, if you didn't know who created the scent, you might possibly, if you are super knowledgable of the line and super perceptive, intuit that it is by Lutens. I do wish Nuit de Cellophane was all about the elegant vivacity of its top notes and nothing about cream and honey. Just like a cellophane wrapped bouquet of conventionally pretty pastel roses, this is not something I would buy for myself. Just like such a bouquet, this is something I would accept with much pleasure and enjoy...all the while secretly wishing that the giftor had more imagination and presented me with something like Tubereuse Criminelle instead. Available at Aedes and Luckyscents, $120.00 for 50ml.