Iris Silver Mist (Serge Lutens)

Iris seems to come in two forms: rich, bready and warm or raw, watery and cold. Though I haven't nearly explored the full range of available iris perfumes, I can safely say that I prefer the full-fat version to the pale, low-calorie tincture any day of the week.  Between the two, a link must exist-- some sort of connector between earth and raincloud. Why not lightning?

Iris Silver Mist (great name, seemingly arrived at via some sort of collaborative word-game, like "Miranda Sex Garden") is an ozonic take on iris to which La Myrrhe clearly owes a stylistic debt.  I knew La Myrrhe could not have sprung whole from the head of Osiris; it had to have an antecedent, a source point from which its eerie DNA descended.  Iris Silver Mist is that source.  Neither as sepulchral nor as soulless as its cousin of one year later, it nevertheless is a bit of a cold fish-- placing it, at least nominally, in the 'tincture' category of iris fragrances. What saves Iris Silver Mist from primordial chill is its sense of suggestive friction-- rather like the ghostly electric crackle that sheer nylon stockings produce when the wearer crosses her legs.  The skin underneath may be alabaster-pale and chilly, but the blood coursing deeper down is reliably hot.

I imagine that Iris Silver Mist is a treat in the heat of Indian summer.  At present -- with the temperature barely cresting fifty degrees Fahrenheit on a good day, notwithstanding the bitter bite of the ever-present March wind -- Iris Silver Mist leaves me cold.  However, when storm clouds rise and the flicker of lightning heralds the advance of warmer weather, she may lay her cool hands on my forehead... and I will feel content in her presence.

Scent Elements: Iris, galbanum, cedar, sandalwood, clove, vetiver, musk, benzoin, amber, incense, oakmoss