La vierge de fer Serge Lutens 2013
3
Helpful Review
The Iron Maiden
Forget about any Jeanne d’Arc connection. This is a torture device. It lures you in and then the blades appear. It’s a Jacobean revenge drama in a perfume bottle.
You start with a drop of citrus and then you are pounced by shrill white florals and very bright sirupy juice, like a vengeful ghost in a wedding dress. The nuptial bouquet of pungent lilies and jasmine nearly tickles your frontal lobe with its scent and you can just about sense a starting headache, but wait! Just then it’s like the temperature in the air suddenly drops and the same chilly frozen air effect you get from L’Eau Froide (I set it aside, as a cute citrus cleaner scented mistake in a miniature bottle, after I tried it first in August. But in December it’s bottled cold air. A complete magic trick!) will pierce through the white lilies and honeyed pears (Quinces perhaps?) and it’s when you understand the meaning of the words “Iron Maiden”, the Vierge de Fer.
The sudden coldness sets the stage for the ominous metallic notes, beginning to mingle with the aromas of pears and the flowers. And then there is blood. It’s not even the smell of blood, but rather the taste of bleeding gums, but recreated in a perfume. Sheldrake is a sick genius, there’s no other way to put this. This whole act is over before you wrap your head around what you just witnessed and the whole piece ends in another self reference, as the sweet white lilies settle into the gentle and calm musks of Clair de Lune.
All the theatrics aside, this really is a beautiful floral and the weirdness is easily missed if one isn’t paying very close attention. This is one aspect I love about Lutens perfumes; while there’s always something strange, it’s never just about the strangeness. Vierge de Fer is a fantastic, elegant white floral perfume, able to fill a room carelessly and the people complimenting you would be none the wiser about the drama written in slowly disintegrating molecules on your skin.
Bravo.
You start with a drop of citrus and then you are pounced by shrill white florals and very bright sirupy juice, like a vengeful ghost in a wedding dress. The nuptial bouquet of pungent lilies and jasmine nearly tickles your frontal lobe with its scent and you can just about sense a starting headache, but wait! Just then it’s like the temperature in the air suddenly drops and the same chilly frozen air effect you get from L’Eau Froide (I set it aside, as a cute citrus cleaner scented mistake in a miniature bottle, after I tried it first in August. But in December it’s bottled cold air. A complete magic trick!) will pierce through the white lilies and honeyed pears (Quinces perhaps?) and it’s when you understand the meaning of the words “Iron Maiden”, the Vierge de Fer.
The sudden coldness sets the stage for the ominous metallic notes, beginning to mingle with the aromas of pears and the flowers. And then there is blood. It’s not even the smell of blood, but rather the taste of bleeding gums, but recreated in a perfume. Sheldrake is a sick genius, there’s no other way to put this. This whole act is over before you wrap your head around what you just witnessed and the whole piece ends in another self reference, as the sweet white lilies settle into the gentle and calm musks of Clair de Lune.
All the theatrics aside, this really is a beautiful floral and the weirdness is easily missed if one isn’t paying very close attention. This is one aspect I love about Lutens perfumes; while there’s always something strange, it’s never just about the strangeness. Vierge de Fer is a fantastic, elegant white floral perfume, able to fill a room carelessly and the people complimenting you would be none the wiser about the drama written in slowly disintegrating molecules on your skin.
Bravo.
BWFG