6
Very helpful Review
Aloof Orris
Iris Silver Mist by Serge Lutens.
I believe this is a cult classic by now, to me, not a perfume, but bottled emotion. This is a very aloof and cold perfume that somehow instills that feeling in you. Even today it is hard for me to think that Roucel created this. I never had guessed. It feels more like a Lutens and Sheldrake potion of sorrow.
It should not be analyzed technically, but rather, emotionally. I never wear this except for myself. If I'd wear it, it would have to be all black, suited up. The composition exploits the most bitter, chalky, and earthy facets of orris, and it amplifies them with the help of aptly chosen notes and accords such as vetiver, galbanum, clove, frankincense, and cedar. There is a hint of resins in the base, like the promise that will never be fulfilled. It is pointless to talk about notes here, as there are only accords, only whispered suggestions. The opening is cold and bracing, bitter, and somehow metallic. Like tasting the thick fog during a cold Winter night. Then the frozen earth speaks to you. Rooty orris, like pulling the rhizomes from the bounds of the earth only to have them shatter into our hands, fragile as ice thorns. At last, cedarwood only reinforces the geometry of ice blocks with its naturally sharper profile, the frankincense circles back to the imagery of thick fog, while the faint resins almost seem to call to the pale moonlight, trying to guide your way through the cold, foggy night. Cold and poised, beautiful and aloof.
In my mind, if Bram Stoker's Dracula had a signature scent, it would have been Iris Silver Mist. It is one of those perfumes that everyone passionate about this hobby should at least try once, although it might require extensive exploration to fully grasp.
IG:@memory.of.scents
I believe this is a cult classic by now, to me, not a perfume, but bottled emotion. This is a very aloof and cold perfume that somehow instills that feeling in you. Even today it is hard for me to think that Roucel created this. I never had guessed. It feels more like a Lutens and Sheldrake potion of sorrow.
It should not be analyzed technically, but rather, emotionally. I never wear this except for myself. If I'd wear it, it would have to be all black, suited up. The composition exploits the most bitter, chalky, and earthy facets of orris, and it amplifies them with the help of aptly chosen notes and accords such as vetiver, galbanum, clove, frankincense, and cedar. There is a hint of resins in the base, like the promise that will never be fulfilled. It is pointless to talk about notes here, as there are only accords, only whispered suggestions. The opening is cold and bracing, bitter, and somehow metallic. Like tasting the thick fog during a cold Winter night. Then the frozen earth speaks to you. Rooty orris, like pulling the rhizomes from the bounds of the earth only to have them shatter into our hands, fragile as ice thorns. At last, cedarwood only reinforces the geometry of ice blocks with its naturally sharper profile, the frankincense circles back to the imagery of thick fog, while the faint resins almost seem to call to the pale moonlight, trying to guide your way through the cold, foggy night. Cold and poised, beautiful and aloof.
In my mind, if Bram Stoker's Dracula had a signature scent, it would have been Iris Silver Mist. It is one of those perfumes that everyone passionate about this hobby should at least try once, although it might require extensive exploration to fully grasp.
IG:@memory.of.scents
4 Comments
Good review. Thanks.