À la Nuit
Serge Lutens (2000)

A La Nuit is, very simply, a jasmine soliflore. For only a very brief few moments in the opening do you get the very dry musky, indolic, mothball quality of jasmine, cleverly achieved with a very light clove note. The rest of the perfume throughout its life is jasmine. Citrusy and sour, clean and soapy musky, a bit of banana like ylang-ylang, a bit green and creamy like tuberose - all of the qualities of jasmine are present and accounted for, and it’s gorgeous. It stays close to my skin, like freshly laundered white linen in warm sunshine, for hours and hours until, finally, at the skin scent the perfume goes a touch sweet and in a calm direction with honey and musks. There’s not much else to say really. It’s very simple, just like seeing the jasmine flower - but then the flower introduces itself to you via your nose instead of your eyes, you catch a whiff of the flower on the breeze, your heart pitter patters, and a smile runs across your face. That’s A La Nuit.

I have sampled and/or owned a few jasmine-centered fragrances in my lifetime. I ordinarily love the jasmine flower note. Trying to expand my horizons, someone suggested I try "A La Nuit."

As an aside, I love Amouage Portrayal Woman. And in my day, I loved Creed Jasmin Imperatrice Eugenie.

Not sure what it is, or what my body chemistry responded to but I find this fragrance intolerable.

Definitely opens as a heavy, indolic jasmine fragrance with thick, syrupy honey. Something turned the fragrance beyond animalic and sour on my skin...and green. At one point, I felt like I might be sick.

Fragrance lasts forever because even after scrubbing my inner wrist (where I landed a few sprays), I could still detect the fragrance many hours afterwards.

Definitely not for me...

A la Nuit is a beautiful (though simple) green jasmine fragrance elevated by a voluptuous (though not opulent) base.

One could argue this is strictly a feminine fragrance, but (as a man) I don’t feel uncomfortable wearing it, even during the heady opening - a true testament to the quality of the ingredients and deftness of the composition.

This is particularly evident as the fragrance dries down. As the opening salvo of white florals and green stems fade, I detect a bit of something not unlike the smell of balsamic vinegar at times. This honeyed, almost “waxy” accord lends a bit of an amber tone to the green and white top notes.

Never loud - though noticeably present - I get around 6 hours of wear time with only a few sprays. This isn’t a fragrance I would purchase, but I thoroughly enjoyed my sample.

Thumbs up.

Jasmine and clove - that is the impression when this olfactory journey commences. The clove start first on me, but an evergrowing jasmine is gradually starting to become the domainant force here.

It is actually a mix of several delightful jasmines (from Egypt, Morocco and India per the scent pyramid). After a while some green undertones arrive also; at times they are a bit on the grassy side.

Towards the ends a sweeter undertone - honeyed white musks mainly - comes and goes, with touches of benzoin and whiffs of fruity moments.

I get moderate sillage, good projection, and six hours of longevity on my skin.

A gorgeous sweet and soft jasmine scent for spring, which is convincing it its pared-down simplicity on the basis of the high quality of the jasmines. 3.5

I had a sample of this, and when I smelled it straight from the vial, it was fresh, soft, and clean. It reminded me of a yellow candle with a name like "Sunshine." On my skin though, it was a beautiful, pure white jasmine smell, like a bridal bouquet. It was gorgeous, though linear and somewhat "virginal," as the jasmine never got that sexy, "skanky" smell and I could not get any traces of the musk. I then dabbed a bit of Creed's Santal Imperial on top and it was complete love at first sniff. It was almost too feminine for me and needed something masculine to make it a little less "pure."

Overall, I think it is a beautiful scent, though I wish it had more depth. By itself, I'd give it a 6/10.

The Valkyrie's Vigil by
Edward Robert Hughes