Five Jasmines

Well we did Gardenia, so this time I decided to cover another favorite (and other verrrry butch note): jasmine.

Jasmine is, to me, as emblematic of Southern California as say, lilac or lily of the valley are of New England. I still remember the crisp smell of LotV in spring and the bowers of white and purple blooms in late spring and early summer at home in Massachusetts- they are part of my sense memory of growing up, like the taste of raspberries picked from the woods behind our house. Jasmine was one of the fist things I smelled in Los Angeles when I came out here for the Olympic Arts Festival in 1984, uh 2014. I was staying at a friend’s parents house above Sunset and would go for walks in the evening (rather looked at askance by the locals) and would smell the jasmine in the air. Unlike the lush, almost pervasive scent of lilacs, the jasmine in Los Angeles plays hide and seek. Suddenly popping out at you and bringing you up short. It was one of the things I stressed to Fabrice Penot when he was doing the LA scent for le labo. I don’t in any way pretend that I was an influence, but he told me I kind of was. So there.

Sooo, onto the Jasmine.

Montale Jasmine Full  Montale seems to be a house that is often overlooked and I am not sure why. Perhaps it’s the almost mind-numbing number of scents they have or the seeming habit of dropping them. This is a perfect case: This little number is a wonderful jasmine that opens in an almost comic manner that would make Sheldrake/Lutens smile: a slightly metallic, fruity note that kind of reminds me of grape soda. Now before you either head for the hills or book me a room at Trembling Acres note that the opening is sort of referred to (in a totally grin-inducing way) throughout the development the scent itself becomes a very lush jasmine with other white flowers (they list honeysuckle and orange blossom but I swear there’s some tuberose and peony in there too.) It’s like the Carole Lombard of fragrances: Beautiful, but with a winking, winning sense of fun. This one isn’t at the Montale website (boo) but can be had at Fragranenet for very little.

Rambova and Valentino

Zoologist Sacred Scarab is one that seems to have made it into this order through some mysterious force. I was looking for jasmine and placed the order with StC at their behest. Neither the Zoologist website not StC lists jasmine in there. But in the order it was, in the photo it was. so in this review it stays. According to StC, this “was released in 2022, created by the incredibly interesting Sultan Pasha“, and upon first spritz I released a very butch “whoa!!” Well, it may have come out as “whoa, Nellie!” But (as Musette would say) “DAMB!” I need to meet this Sultan Pasha! This stuff is perfume! I didn’t think there could be a dark take on Aldehydes, but here it is. This is a thick-lashed sloe-eyed sort of perfume. The kind that Natacha Rambova would have worn and Lady Gaga might. Notes (from the Zoologist website) “Top Notes: Aldehydes, Lemon, Civet (synthetic)
Heart Notes: Wine Accord, Plum Accord, Blue Lotus Accord
Kyphi Notes: Raisins, Olibanum, Myrrh, Galbanum, Cedar Wood, Juniper, Wine, Styrax, Benzoin, Oakmoss, Labdanum, Musk(synthetic), Amber
You can get a travel spray from the website for $59. If you don’t you’re just not living.

Serge Lutens Sarrasins: I reviewed this one way back in 2007 on PST. At the time I thought it was the perfect encapsulation of the sent of the night blooming jasmine I remembered. I don’t know if my tastes have changed, if it’s been reformulated, or just the fact that I tried it within 24 hours of Sacred Scarab but this is both sweeter and thinner than I remember. It’s pretty, but lives up even less to it’s highly colored promise than I remember. Luckily Uncle Serge isn’t lacking in the  jasmine department, so the $320 for that bell jar can go to, say..

Serge Lutens Fils de joie actually comes a lot closer to the smell of what I think of as night-blooming jasmine. Which makes sense since it is listed in some places as a note. According to the Lutens website it’s just jasmine, musk, and civet. Can’t go wrong there if you ask me. I do get more than that though- at the beginning it’s like jasmine enveloped in honey. Not the scary murder hornet of Miel de Bois or the winey glottal sweetness of  Ginestet Botrytis (neither of which I think are available anymore) but a luscious sweet one. A cashmere bankie of honey. And at $270 for 200ML it’s both less expensive and a larger size that Sarrasins. And it has a slightly smaller version of the famous Sheldrake/Lutens crazy opening that I can only describe as “Candied Ferret.” 

Serge Lutens La religieuse is one that I am actually going to blame/credit my godchild with. She has been a perfumista (like her mom) since she was a kid, and I noticed that she posted a picture of the bottle on her Intsa (please note how au courant I am in writing “insta.”) In any case I also noted that I could get a bottle at a discounter for about $60 and the evil Paypal will break that up into four interest-free payments, so it’s like I am not paying at all. And the road to the poorhouse is paved with those thoughts, so go steadily, kids. Anyway, the scent is wonderful: initially more frozen than even l’Eau d’Hiver, more that one reviewer back in the day (2015) mentioned “snowy” as an adjective. Apt. As a matter of fact of all of these this is the least Jasmine- the flower peeps out of the snow about midway through. The frosty aspect never really goes away, but a very Sheldrake/Lutens apricot comes in as the snow begins to melt and the jasmine becomes muskier. I would normally write “as it warms” but this one really doesn’t. It remains as chilly as a winter day, the fruits and flowers and even the body musk frosted over. A lot of people were bored rigid; I bought the big bottle (albeit at a discounter.) $200 for 50ML at Serge Lutens.

Have you tried any of these? Have a favorite Jasmine? Discuss in the comments,

All of these are available at Surrender to Chance to sample. All but La religieuse was from them, the bottle I purchased at a discounter.

Photos: My iPhone, Pexels, Wikimedia Commons