Santal Blanc (Serge Lutens)

Aaaahhhhh... this is more like it. Or is it?

Mysore sandalwood and fenugreek together make an attractive noise, but Santal Blanc lasts no longer on skin than your regulation album cut-- three minutes, tight and sweet, then gone in a welter of radio static. Something about it seems oddly two-dimensional, as if an idea made a good start in the mixing bottle but dug its heels in when asked to replicate its magic on skin.

Oddly, I see where Santal Blanc could dovetail with Francis Kurkdjian's Eau Noire, which it preceded by a full three years. I bet that if I layered the two, they would meld together like lifelong bedfellows, two halves of a predestined whole. The effect would peal like a temple bell, or vibrate like Tibetan throat-singing-- a multi-dimensional, resounding drone that settles in one's belly and shakes one's foundations.

But alone, Santal Blanc is only half the story and half the song. Like any snatch of melody, it haunts but does not satisfy.

Scent Elements: Sandalwood, cinnamon, fenugreek, pink pepper, iris, jasmine, rose, benzoin, copaiba