12/14/2024

DrB1414
216 Reviews

DrB1414
1
A Different Spin on The Notorious Lutens Cumin and Immortelle Duo
El Attarine, created by my favorite duo, Serge Lutens and Christopher Sheldrake.
This one took me a long time to grasp. I didn't like it at first. However, I sensed there was something different about it. It was an oddball. I wasn't put off by the cumin blast from the opening that likely scares most people, heck, I LOVE cumin. The opening of this perfume is arguably the best showcase of the spice I have encountered. It almost smells like pure essential oil. It wasn't that part. It was its build that felt unfamiliar. I find that Serge Luten's perfumes possess a traceable DNA, for the most part. And so, you have the cumin and immortelle cousins in Le Participe Passé, Bourreau Des Fleurs, and L'innommable, and while they are not identical, there is a similar pathway one can trace in all. My mistake was approaching El Attarine and expecting it to be in that vein. I was wrong. And once again, setting false expectations had me dismiss a perfume upon the first few attempts. This one, like a few others in the line, almost feels like a "Non-Lutens" or "Anti-Lutens" composition. You look at the notes and picture a syrupy-sweet and heavy concoction, only to be greeted by something that feels rather airy and transparent, more like a watercolor painting instead of heavy brush strokes.
El Attarine feels like the Moroccan desert breeze blowing over a buffet of apricots and honey, carefully decorated with fresh immortelle flowers on the side and generously flavored with cumin, left to dry in the sun. Golden is a fitting color for this perfume, with shades of brown. These are the most prominent facets, although there is also a shy violet and perhaps even violet leaf next to some cedar and sandalwood that make a transient appearance and help round up the perfume.
To my nose, El Attarine unfolds in two major acts. First, there is the cumin. This opening can be a deal breaker or pure bliss, depending on your affinity for this "controversial" spice. It almost has an oily texture and plays on the savory aspects of the material. The immortelle-honey-apricot pair is subdued at this stage, only gently whispering from underneath. Suddenly, a shy violet pokes its head only for a brief to introduce the second stage of the perfume, and my favorite, the "Golden Phase," where immortelle, apricots, and honey work together to portray this exquisite Oriental buffet seasoned with cumin and baked in the sun. What feels different from the other immortelle-cumin Lutens creations is how these accords are displayed in the composition. They seem rather fresh, not syrupy and cloying. The Immortelle feels herbaceous, dusty-dry, and unfaded. The honey feels diluted with water, and the apricots are crisp, almost making me picture their skin with a slight zestiness rather than dried apricots or overripe fruits like in perfumes such as Slumberhouse Kiste. This golden triangle is constantly supported by the culprit, cumin, while gentle woody notes infuse creaminess to the base and help provide a grounding layer for the composition. I love the dry-down. It goes like this forever at a low volume in the most sophisticated way, never cloying, always elegant, feeling like an everlasting sunny day.
I believe El Atarine is one of the most special perfumes in the vast catalog of the house, one that requires more time to understand and appreciate, especially if one approaches it expecting to encounter the typical Lutens aesthetic. While undoubtedly it feels like a Lutens and Sheldrake creation, it bears a more emotional and contemplative execution and view.
IG:@memory.of.scents
This one took me a long time to grasp. I didn't like it at first. However, I sensed there was something different about it. It was an oddball. I wasn't put off by the cumin blast from the opening that likely scares most people, heck, I LOVE cumin. The opening of this perfume is arguably the best showcase of the spice I have encountered. It almost smells like pure essential oil. It wasn't that part. It was its build that felt unfamiliar. I find that Serge Luten's perfumes possess a traceable DNA, for the most part. And so, you have the cumin and immortelle cousins in Le Participe Passé, Bourreau Des Fleurs, and L'innommable, and while they are not identical, there is a similar pathway one can trace in all. My mistake was approaching El Attarine and expecting it to be in that vein. I was wrong. And once again, setting false expectations had me dismiss a perfume upon the first few attempts. This one, like a few others in the line, almost feels like a "Non-Lutens" or "Anti-Lutens" composition. You look at the notes and picture a syrupy-sweet and heavy concoction, only to be greeted by something that feels rather airy and transparent, more like a watercolor painting instead of heavy brush strokes.
El Attarine feels like the Moroccan desert breeze blowing over a buffet of apricots and honey, carefully decorated with fresh immortelle flowers on the side and generously flavored with cumin, left to dry in the sun. Golden is a fitting color for this perfume, with shades of brown. These are the most prominent facets, although there is also a shy violet and perhaps even violet leaf next to some cedar and sandalwood that make a transient appearance and help round up the perfume.
To my nose, El Attarine unfolds in two major acts. First, there is the cumin. This opening can be a deal breaker or pure bliss, depending on your affinity for this "controversial" spice. It almost has an oily texture and plays on the savory aspects of the material. The immortelle-honey-apricot pair is subdued at this stage, only gently whispering from underneath. Suddenly, a shy violet pokes its head only for a brief to introduce the second stage of the perfume, and my favorite, the "Golden Phase," where immortelle, apricots, and honey work together to portray this exquisite Oriental buffet seasoned with cumin and baked in the sun. What feels different from the other immortelle-cumin Lutens creations is how these accords are displayed in the composition. They seem rather fresh, not syrupy and cloying. The Immortelle feels herbaceous, dusty-dry, and unfaded. The honey feels diluted with water, and the apricots are crisp, almost making me picture their skin with a slight zestiness rather than dried apricots or overripe fruits like in perfumes such as Slumberhouse Kiste. This golden triangle is constantly supported by the culprit, cumin, while gentle woody notes infuse creaminess to the base and help provide a grounding layer for the composition. I love the dry-down. It goes like this forever at a low volume in the most sophisticated way, never cloying, always elegant, feeling like an everlasting sunny day.
I believe El Atarine is one of the most special perfumes in the vast catalog of the house, one that requires more time to understand and appreciate, especially if one approaches it expecting to encounter the typical Lutens aesthetic. While undoubtedly it feels like a Lutens and Sheldrake creation, it bears a more emotional and contemplative execution and view.
IG:@memory.of.scents