Reviews of Jeux de Peau by Serge Lutens
Jeux de Peau is a comforting, cozy fragrance that captures the charm of a bakery stand at an autumn farmers market, and the intimacy of a winter morning spent baking at home, with the scent of fresh bread wafting through the air.
It begins with an inviting blend of sweet apricot, creamy milk, and aromas of warm baked goods. As it evolves on the skin, toasty wheat and nutty rye keep it hearty, while licorice provides an aromatic, herbal nuance that balances the richness. Soft spices and resins add warmth and depth, which, along with a smooth sandalwood, last deep into the dry down.
Jeux de Peau is a unique fragrance that defies traditional gourmand conventions, showcasing sweet and foody notes without being heavy or cloying. This unisex scent thrives as the temperature drops, making it a perfect choice for when autumn's crisp mornings give way to cold winter days.
I have decants of Jeux de Peau available, feel free to send me a message if you’ve been hoping to get your nose on it!
It begins with an inviting blend of sweet apricot, creamy milk, and aromas of warm baked goods. As it evolves on the skin, toasty wheat and nutty rye keep it hearty, while licorice provides an aromatic, herbal nuance that balances the richness. Soft spices and resins add warmth and depth, which, along with a smooth sandalwood, last deep into the dry down.
Jeux de Peau is a unique fragrance that defies traditional gourmand conventions, showcasing sweet and foody notes without being heavy or cloying. This unisex scent thrives as the temperature drops, making it a perfect choice for when autumn's crisp mornings give way to cold winter days.
I have decants of Jeux de Peau available, feel free to send me a message if you’ve been hoping to get your nose on it!
Jeux de Peau from Serge Lutens, composed by Christopher Sheldrake.
Undisputedly my all-time favorite gourmand perfume. Not a fragrance family I gravitate toward, but there is a handful of them that manage to offer that savory/gourmand olfactory experience while remaining mature, cleverly done, sophisticated, unique, and complex enough so I never get bored wearing them, or should I say, get a sugar crash.
This one goes far beyond the savory theme rendered so well that I will go to say that is the most complex Serge Lutens perfume on my skin, and I have tried and owned almost all. Linearity is a foreign concept here. This brings me to the name itself, which in French means "skin games." I often questioned the choice of words, thinking of a plethora of more suitable titles, yet now I see how the pun was placed and agree that it is an aptly chosen name.
The major theme of the perfume is the smell inside of a French Boulangerie, aka Bakery. Think of freshly baked bread and warm croissants. And it spans further to wheat, flour, yeast, butter, and warm milk. All of that is encompassed in this composition and rendered to perfection. The aroma of barley and bread is among my favorites. I don't eat a lot, but I sure love the smell. I searched high and low, sampled many compositions that promised to deliver that olfactory experience, and stopped at Jeux de Peau. Not only does it present that "vision" accurately, but somehow stretches that accord throughout the life of the perfume such that it never loses its identity but builds on it and adds intricate nuances.
As mentioned, this perfume offers a slightly different experience of my skin each time and seems to depend on how much I apply or my body temperature. Smelling it close or in the air will also unveil slightly different facets. I like to term this type of olfactory structure as "prismatic" or "in spades," where the structure, or the main thread, is consistent, but different nuances emerge under certain conditions and at different times without a set progression. As opposed to the classical top-heart-base linear build and evolution. Consequently, Jeaux de Peau is constantly playing games on my skin. It feels like having breakfast in the same bakery shop every morning, yet each day the game of flavors and circumstances are slightly different.
The bread/barley accord dominates. It is the canvas that Sheldrake built and on which he strikes various elements at different times. The opening is a tour-de-force in terms of facets unveiled simultaneously. I pick up the anise, even some artemisia that calls back Douce Amère, a delightfully savory and crispy saltiness, and faint herbal nuances. Shortly after, the bread accord holds its ground for a while with only the salty facet playing along, in crescendo, at times. Later, the soft herbaceous elements get through with the everlasting flower and the fruity osmanthus. Then, it transitions from bread and butter (main course) to the dessert served as croissants with apricot jam and steaming warm milk on the side. I love the way Osmanthus announces the apricot accord, in an almost logical fashion, just as the buttery texture introduces the milky one later.
The latter makes me think of Dries van Noten from Frederic Malle and how the milk acord is showcased there through a heavy use of Sulfurol. It makes me wonder if Sheldrake decided to opt for a similar material in this case, however, it feels more poised and carefully dosed to the point where the "meaty" and "nutty" qualities are omitted. Finally, the sandalwood base becomes ever more tangible as the hours go by, and still, I would never think of it as a woody, let alone sandalwood perfume. The material is put to great use but never claims its presence with enough authority. It feels like the tabletop or the wooden cutting boards were made of it but no more than that.
One last thing I want to mention is that the sweetness never feels overbearing, jovial, or excessive, as some have mentioned. I believe the perfume is brilliantly balanced and that the herbaceous, and most importantly, the salty facets, help to keep the sweetness in check at all times. I would say it feels more savory than sweet. Therefore, people who don't like their perfumes excessively sweet (I sure don't) should still sample Jeux de Peau. Especially if you enjoy the smell of wheat/bread, the idea of smelling like a Boulangerie, or just curious to try something utterly unique and evocative that bears all the trademarks of why this house is donned by many as the "parent of niche perfumery" as it came to be.
IG:@memory.of.scents
Undisputedly my all-time favorite gourmand perfume. Not a fragrance family I gravitate toward, but there is a handful of them that manage to offer that savory/gourmand olfactory experience while remaining mature, cleverly done, sophisticated, unique, and complex enough so I never get bored wearing them, or should I say, get a sugar crash.
This one goes far beyond the savory theme rendered so well that I will go to say that is the most complex Serge Lutens perfume on my skin, and I have tried and owned almost all. Linearity is a foreign concept here. This brings me to the name itself, which in French means "skin games." I often questioned the choice of words, thinking of a plethora of more suitable titles, yet now I see how the pun was placed and agree that it is an aptly chosen name.
The major theme of the perfume is the smell inside of a French Boulangerie, aka Bakery. Think of freshly baked bread and warm croissants. And it spans further to wheat, flour, yeast, butter, and warm milk. All of that is encompassed in this composition and rendered to perfection. The aroma of barley and bread is among my favorites. I don't eat a lot, but I sure love the smell. I searched high and low, sampled many compositions that promised to deliver that olfactory experience, and stopped at Jeux de Peau. Not only does it present that "vision" accurately, but somehow stretches that accord throughout the life of the perfume such that it never loses its identity but builds on it and adds intricate nuances.
As mentioned, this perfume offers a slightly different experience of my skin each time and seems to depend on how much I apply or my body temperature. Smelling it close or in the air will also unveil slightly different facets. I like to term this type of olfactory structure as "prismatic" or "in spades," where the structure, or the main thread, is consistent, but different nuances emerge under certain conditions and at different times without a set progression. As opposed to the classical top-heart-base linear build and evolution. Consequently, Jeaux de Peau is constantly playing games on my skin. It feels like having breakfast in the same bakery shop every morning, yet each day the game of flavors and circumstances are slightly different.
The bread/barley accord dominates. It is the canvas that Sheldrake built and on which he strikes various elements at different times. The opening is a tour-de-force in terms of facets unveiled simultaneously. I pick up the anise, even some artemisia that calls back Douce Amère, a delightfully savory and crispy saltiness, and faint herbal nuances. Shortly after, the bread accord holds its ground for a while with only the salty facet playing along, in crescendo, at times. Later, the soft herbaceous elements get through with the everlasting flower and the fruity osmanthus. Then, it transitions from bread and butter (main course) to the dessert served as croissants with apricot jam and steaming warm milk on the side. I love the way Osmanthus announces the apricot accord, in an almost logical fashion, just as the buttery texture introduces the milky one later.
The latter makes me think of Dries van Noten from Frederic Malle and how the milk acord is showcased there through a heavy use of Sulfurol. It makes me wonder if Sheldrake decided to opt for a similar material in this case, however, it feels more poised and carefully dosed to the point where the "meaty" and "nutty" qualities are omitted. Finally, the sandalwood base becomes ever more tangible as the hours go by, and still, I would never think of it as a woody, let alone sandalwood perfume. The material is put to great use but never claims its presence with enough authority. It feels like the tabletop or the wooden cutting boards were made of it but no more than that.
One last thing I want to mention is that the sweetness never feels overbearing, jovial, or excessive, as some have mentioned. I believe the perfume is brilliantly balanced and that the herbaceous, and most importantly, the salty facets, help to keep the sweetness in check at all times. I would say it feels more savory than sweet. Therefore, people who don't like their perfumes excessively sweet (I sure don't) should still sample Jeux de Peau. Especially if you enjoy the smell of wheat/bread, the idea of smelling like a Boulangerie, or just curious to try something utterly unique and evocative that bears all the trademarks of why this house is donned by many as the "parent of niche perfumery" as it came to be.
IG:@memory.of.scents
ADVERTISEMENT
Opening of licorice all sorts and freshly baked bread. Settles down almost buttered rum and golden syrup. Vanilla overtones and leans very patisserie in quality. It's an odd set of notes that all somehow manage to work out. The vanillin/amber base is very comforting and thankfully doesn't lean too sweet. Very nice winter weather scent.
Serge Lutens Jeux de Peau is a bready, spicy, sweet gourmand that has vanillic overtones with bits of character via the licorice and apricot, though admittedly I don't detect much of either, specifically, and a milky transparency that makes it easy to wear. It's fun, comforting, and apt for cold-weather wearing despite not being dense, at least to me.
As far as bready scents go, I'd say that Jeux de Peau is quite agreeable, a gourmand apt for even those that usually don't like gourmands, since the sandalwood, amber, and spices bring it more back to the middle, toward most perfume, rather than specifically the gourmand. It's not as dense and deliberately delectable as, say, 4160 Tuesdays Captured by Candlelight, the first and foremost logical comparison that came to mind.
Decently-performing and quite agreeable, its scent is matched only by its great price, a mere $53 for 50ml on FragranceNet. Certainly a bargain to be had, given its quality.
7 out of 10
As far as bready scents go, I'd say that Jeux de Peau is quite agreeable, a gourmand apt for even those that usually don't like gourmands, since the sandalwood, amber, and spices bring it more back to the middle, toward most perfume, rather than specifically the gourmand. It's not as dense and deliberately delectable as, say, 4160 Tuesdays Captured by Candlelight, the first and foremost logical comparison that came to mind.
Decently-performing and quite agreeable, its scent is matched only by its great price, a mere $53 for 50ml on FragranceNet. Certainly a bargain to be had, given its quality.
7 out of 10
I sampled this as part of my increasingly forlorn search for a fragrance with the tangy elegance of Eau Noire.
I can't fault Jeux de Peau for not being anything like that. But on its own terms wearing it was a really dreadful yeasty experience that went on and on and on. Not for me.
I can't fault Jeux de Peau for not being anything like that. But on its own terms wearing it was a really dreadful yeasty experience that went on and on and on. Not for me.
When Alice first arrives in the foyer of Wonderland, she drinks from a small bottle in order to become small enough to enter through the locked door. That potion "had, in fact, a sort of mixed flavour of cherry-tart, custard, pine-apple, roast turkey, toffee, and hot buttered toast."
This is the olfactory effect one gets from Jeux de Peau, a jumble of gourmand notes that smell deliciously decadent - the maple syrup intensity of the fenugreek immortelle, the yeasty opulence of buttered bread, the suggestion of steaming coffee, the sweetness of apricot jam. One gains pounds within the first few minutes.
Once it all settles down, one is happy for the experience. It is doubtful however if one wishes to smell like breakfast in a patisserie for hours on end. It's a very clever and fun creation, but like most gourmand fragrances, its function as a wearable scent is almost an after-thought.
Full marks for creativity though!
This is the olfactory effect one gets from Jeux de Peau, a jumble of gourmand notes that smell deliciously decadent - the maple syrup intensity of the fenugreek immortelle, the yeasty opulence of buttered bread, the suggestion of steaming coffee, the sweetness of apricot jam. One gains pounds within the first few minutes.
Once it all settles down, one is happy for the experience. It is doubtful however if one wishes to smell like breakfast in a patisserie for hours on end. It's a very clever and fun creation, but like most gourmand fragrances, its function as a wearable scent is almost an after-thought.
Full marks for creativity though!
Jeux de Peau smells at first like the air in a food product preparation lab, where the air swirls with all kinds of flavor molecules added to enhance our perception of what we're actually eating.
I don't think Jeux de Peau is foody per se (because it is not something that tempts me to eat it), but I do think it relies heavily on food aromachemical notes to produce it overall effect. I smell cylotene, a molecule that tastes of slightly burned maple syrup, bread, and coffee beans and is often added to real maple syrup to enhance the flavor/smell, and pyrazines, synthesized molecules responsible for the very intense smell of coffee, chocolate, woods, and bread brought to burning point under intense heat.
Like other pyrazine-rich perfumes, such as Aomassai, Un Bois Vanille, and Eau Noire, the effect in Jeux de Peau is intensely aromatic to the point where it can smell somewhat overcooked, or burned to a crisp, and like those other perfumes, a licorice or anise note has been added to underscore the deep black nuances.
The butyric undertone to the sandalwood is taken to the limits here, so it smells both richly oily and more than a little rancid, like a butter dish left out to fester under a hot lamp. When the toasted bread notes meet the buttery oilslick, the effect is unhealthy in that doughy, yeasty way that always reminds me of when a businessman slips off his loafers on a plane that steamy odor of slightly-cooked feet pervading a closed-in space, always the same regardless of how spotless his socks, shoes, or feet actually are. The opening of Jeux de Peau forces that same unwanted intimacy on me, and I fight through it, gnashing my teeth until the intensity dissipates somewhat.
In the heart, the overly rich, stale butter notes are cut with a dash of salt, which I think is coming from a very herbal licorice or anise note, and the grassy, spicy tones of immortelle. The savory notes are perfectly balanced here by a delicious and delicate apricot jam accord (osmanthus flower), as well as the gentler milk tones coming out from the sandalwood. The sandalwood in this is just incredible sweet and salty, richly, brownly aromatic, like an ancient elephant figurine carved from Mysore sandalwood held up to a fire to bring out the aroma hidden deep within its fibers.
Burned toast and butter, you say?
No, Jeux de Peau smells more complex than toast and butter. It also smells a lot less natural. The combined effect is a blur of intense flavor impressions that attract and repel at the same rate. I think it is high art. I am just not convinced that I want to wear it.
I don't think Jeux de Peau is foody per se (because it is not something that tempts me to eat it), but I do think it relies heavily on food aromachemical notes to produce it overall effect. I smell cylotene, a molecule that tastes of slightly burned maple syrup, bread, and coffee beans and is often added to real maple syrup to enhance the flavor/smell, and pyrazines, synthesized molecules responsible for the very intense smell of coffee, chocolate, woods, and bread brought to burning point under intense heat.
Like other pyrazine-rich perfumes, such as Aomassai, Un Bois Vanille, and Eau Noire, the effect in Jeux de Peau is intensely aromatic to the point where it can smell somewhat overcooked, or burned to a crisp, and like those other perfumes, a licorice or anise note has been added to underscore the deep black nuances.
The butyric undertone to the sandalwood is taken to the limits here, so it smells both richly oily and more than a little rancid, like a butter dish left out to fester under a hot lamp. When the toasted bread notes meet the buttery oilslick, the effect is unhealthy in that doughy, yeasty way that always reminds me of when a businessman slips off his loafers on a plane that steamy odor of slightly-cooked feet pervading a closed-in space, always the same regardless of how spotless his socks, shoes, or feet actually are. The opening of Jeux de Peau forces that same unwanted intimacy on me, and I fight through it, gnashing my teeth until the intensity dissipates somewhat.
In the heart, the overly rich, stale butter notes are cut with a dash of salt, which I think is coming from a very herbal licorice or anise note, and the grassy, spicy tones of immortelle. The savory notes are perfectly balanced here by a delicious and delicate apricot jam accord (osmanthus flower), as well as the gentler milk tones coming out from the sandalwood. The sandalwood in this is just incredible sweet and salty, richly, brownly aromatic, like an ancient elephant figurine carved from Mysore sandalwood held up to a fire to bring out the aroma hidden deep within its fibers.
Burned toast and butter, you say?
No, Jeux de Peau smells more complex than toast and butter. It also smells a lot less natural. The combined effect is a blur of intense flavor impressions that attract and repel at the same rate. I think it is high art. I am just not convinced that I want to wear it.
This skin scent is very unusual : decadent and sensual, warming and comforting. It took me a while to tame it but I got there.
To me, this is pecan pie, and maple syrup poured on French toast/sandal wood/warm skin, twisted with coconut. Oh, and Sauternes.
To me, this is pecan pie, and maple syrup poured on French toast/sandal wood/warm skin, twisted with coconut. Oh, and Sauternes.
Jeux de Peau is a great composition of resinous and woodsy notes in a very interesting way plus a funny vegetable kind of feel that I will explain later why I'm calling it funny!
At the opening I can smell a mellow and delicious milky, sweet and oily resinous scent plus some bright woods and a very dry coconuty smell and that strange and funny vegetable kind of feel mixed with it.
About that funny vegetable feel that I told you ...
There is a very famous and very popular stew, local of my country (Persian folks) made from mix of chopped and fried different type of vegetables, lamb's meat, beans and some dried lime pieces that we serve it with rice!
This vegetable kind of aura in this fragrance smells exactly like that stew which makes me laugh!
After a while that vegetable aura goes away and scent gets slightly sweeter. it's still milky and sweet but resinous, slightly woody and kind of bitter at the same time.
In the base the sweetness settles down and I can smell a dry bitter, resinous and woodsy smell in a mellow way which is very beautiful. it's slightly earthy as well, but not too much.
Projection is above average and completely noticeable and longevity is around 5-6 hours on my skin.
A great and very interesting different scent.
At the opening I can smell a mellow and delicious milky, sweet and oily resinous scent plus some bright woods and a very dry coconuty smell and that strange and funny vegetable kind of feel mixed with it.
About that funny vegetable feel that I told you ...
There is a very famous and very popular stew, local of my country (Persian folks) made from mix of chopped and fried different type of vegetables, lamb's meat, beans and some dried lime pieces that we serve it with rice!
This vegetable kind of aura in this fragrance smells exactly like that stew which makes me laugh!
After a while that vegetable aura goes away and scent gets slightly sweeter. it's still milky and sweet but resinous, slightly woody and kind of bitter at the same time.
In the base the sweetness settles down and I can smell a dry bitter, resinous and woodsy smell in a mellow way which is very beautiful. it's slightly earthy as well, but not too much.
Projection is above average and completely noticeable and longevity is around 5-6 hours on my skin.
A great and very interesting different scent.
I only sampled five of Serge Luten perfumes; they seem all very personal scents. They seem almost for your olfactory pleasure only. I guess you will be disappointed if you want to announce your presence since they seem very low scale in sillage. Jeux de peau smells like buttered pastry. The scent on blotter just stayed on and on after three days. In the end, butteriness wasn't there anymore but changed into something ambery.
When my 10yo daughter and I went to Mecca cosmetica in New Market to sample Serge Luten perfumes they had, this one was my daughter's favourite. She had a blotter in her p.j pocket for three days and would sniff before going to bed.
I sometimes wonder, if children can have acquired taste on things like green veggies when they get fed healthy and balanced diets of veggies/fruit/lean meat from early age, they surely must be able to be trained to pick quality scent if they were given really nice fragrance to use such as Serge Luten. Well, if we can afford, I mean. :)
When my 10yo daughter and I went to Mecca cosmetica in New Market to sample Serge Luten perfumes they had, this one was my daughter's favourite. She had a blotter in her p.j pocket for three days and would sniff before going to bed.
I sometimes wonder, if children can have acquired taste on things like green veggies when they get fed healthy and balanced diets of veggies/fruit/lean meat from early age, they surely must be able to be trained to pick quality scent if they were given really nice fragrance to use such as Serge Luten. Well, if we can afford, I mean. :)
Not an oriental but full of balms, an immortelle than smells like honeyed spice cake, a skin scent with great longevity.
Jeux de Peau is quite unlike anything else out there. It's as though Serge Lutens asked for an oriental bazaar done without amber.
What Christopher Sheldrake came up with, in place of citrus, vanillin and ladbanum, is a blocky structure made up of large doses of bland materials. Benzoin, balsams, honey accord, myrrh and musks, on which is mounted a helichrysum heart decorated with cinnamon, nutmeg and pepper. Resinous nuances of hawthorn and fir balsam provide highlights. There are no distinct head notes.
This makes for an oriental that breaks completely with the Shalimar tradition in both character and structure. It refers back instead through Obsession to Trésor as the blueprint from which it has been engineered.
Comparisons with Sables are inescapable, and also Eau Noire. It defines a sub-genre of pseudo florientals based on strategies to control the difficult note of everlasting flower. The key to success here is to manage the contrast in textures between two opposing materials. The coarse and strident features of immortelle, and its smooth, sweet and bland setting of biscuit, amber or lavender.
The balms draw from the skin, but also mask, a discrete animality. Somehow reminiscent of Xeryus and also Sybaris but less overtly sensuous than that classic powerhouse. JdP is better worn as a masculine even though it is marketed as a mixed scent. With a nurturing foody character it is however, definitely not an alpha male type profile.
That JdP manages to stay the right side of gourmand is debatable, the dividing line between olfactory and gustatory being a movable one depending on the circumstances. How hungry you are and your skin chemistry being the obvious factors. Are these the skin games referred to in the name, playing with the limits of how a scent can be perceived ; now the nose, and then, now the tongue?
It has a surprisingly English feel, being reminiscent at times of a school dinner dessert I remember that was made of flour, suet and vine fruits, called Spotted Dick.
The nature of the construction of JdP, and the sub-genre defining character of the theme lead me to see it as the synthesis of two important modalities of modern perfumery.
The balsamic gourmand feel serves as an antidote to the narcotic and over bearing themes of the 80s. It achieves this by replacing their toxic formulae with a simple and legible profile. It also takes the linear structure of of some water thin 90s solutions - which emerged in contrast to the big hair monsters of the previous decade, and replaces the meagre ingredients of those calorie free diet Eau's with a good portion of home cooking.
Jeux de Peau can thus be seen as a critique of some of perfumery's most notable excesses over the space of twenty years.
In essence, this is a gourmand of considerable skill which combines the ambience of comfort food with a discrete animal warmth. It's an easy and satisfying wear, but not facile, and has enough internal contrasts to sustain interest through its long, slow and almost linear evolution to dry down.
That smell, taste, touch and sex should be implicated in the simple spray of a perfume should come as no surprise to parfumista's, but how these relate one to another is a philosophical question even a savant like Serge Lutens would be hard pressed to answer.
Maybe it's better not to get too fussed about it. Maybe perfume isn't a tool of seduction, a fashion accessory or two dimensional sculpture after all.
Maybe perfume is just a game we play on the skin.
Jeux de Peau is quite unlike anything else out there. It's as though Serge Lutens asked for an oriental bazaar done without amber.
What Christopher Sheldrake came up with, in place of citrus, vanillin and ladbanum, is a blocky structure made up of large doses of bland materials. Benzoin, balsams, honey accord, myrrh and musks, on which is mounted a helichrysum heart decorated with cinnamon, nutmeg and pepper. Resinous nuances of hawthorn and fir balsam provide highlights. There are no distinct head notes.
This makes for an oriental that breaks completely with the Shalimar tradition in both character and structure. It refers back instead through Obsession to Trésor as the blueprint from which it has been engineered.
Comparisons with Sables are inescapable, and also Eau Noire. It defines a sub-genre of pseudo florientals based on strategies to control the difficult note of everlasting flower. The key to success here is to manage the contrast in textures between two opposing materials. The coarse and strident features of immortelle, and its smooth, sweet and bland setting of biscuit, amber or lavender.
The balms draw from the skin, but also mask, a discrete animality. Somehow reminiscent of Xeryus and also Sybaris but less overtly sensuous than that classic powerhouse. JdP is better worn as a masculine even though it is marketed as a mixed scent. With a nurturing foody character it is however, definitely not an alpha male type profile.
That JdP manages to stay the right side of gourmand is debatable, the dividing line between olfactory and gustatory being a movable one depending on the circumstances. How hungry you are and your skin chemistry being the obvious factors. Are these the skin games referred to in the name, playing with the limits of how a scent can be perceived ; now the nose, and then, now the tongue?
It has a surprisingly English feel, being reminiscent at times of a school dinner dessert I remember that was made of flour, suet and vine fruits, called Spotted Dick.
The nature of the construction of JdP, and the sub-genre defining character of the theme lead me to see it as the synthesis of two important modalities of modern perfumery.
The balsamic gourmand feel serves as an antidote to the narcotic and over bearing themes of the 80s. It achieves this by replacing their toxic formulae with a simple and legible profile. It also takes the linear structure of of some water thin 90s solutions - which emerged in contrast to the big hair monsters of the previous decade, and replaces the meagre ingredients of those calorie free diet Eau's with a good portion of home cooking.
Jeux de Peau can thus be seen as a critique of some of perfumery's most notable excesses over the space of twenty years.
In essence, this is a gourmand of considerable skill which combines the ambience of comfort food with a discrete animal warmth. It's an easy and satisfying wear, but not facile, and has enough internal contrasts to sustain interest through its long, slow and almost linear evolution to dry down.
That smell, taste, touch and sex should be implicated in the simple spray of a perfume should come as no surprise to parfumista's, but how these relate one to another is a philosophical question even a savant like Serge Lutens would be hard pressed to answer.
Maybe it's better not to get too fussed about it. Maybe perfume isn't a tool of seduction, a fashion accessory or two dimensional sculpture after all.
Maybe perfume is just a game we play on the skin.
Hot buns straight from the oven...
Where to start with this one? Serge Lutens - Jeux de Peau opens with a beautiful smell of bread yeast which turns into the smell of freshly baked buns straight out of the oven. It's a lovely smell, and it's light! It's not so heavy or "gourmandish" even though it's sweet. In other words, it can be worn anywhere at almost any time. It's true to it's name, which when translated means "skin games", as it plays and stays on the skin, never going too far or annoying anyone. I personally love it!
Jeux de Peau opens with a host of gourmand notes. I get the wheat, the milk and the coconut, and liquorice in the background. It's very nice and pleasing. In the background I get hints of osmanthus blossom, which can smell a little like rice and a hint of apricot, and the use of an apricot note to compliment this side to the osmanthus is really great. The pairing of immortelle with liquorice is not a new one, as done before in Dior Collection Privée - Eau Noire, but here is is gentle and sweet, and compliments beautifully with the other notes. As usual, the base is made up of sandalwood, which is itself a very creamy or "milky" note, and we have seen this wood paired up with a real milk note before Hermèssence - Santal Massoïa. But here is has more substance and lasts longer.
Overall, a wonderful warm and inviting fragrance, which doesn't offend in any way, smells very alluring, and which blends really well with the skin to make you smell delicious. If you like gourmands, you'll like this, and even if you don't, you'll still like this. That's the magic of this one! A nice perfume with a unique and quite lovely smell. Like a warm smell from a bakery in winter. Just wonderful!
Where to start with this one? Serge Lutens - Jeux de Peau opens with a beautiful smell of bread yeast which turns into the smell of freshly baked buns straight out of the oven. It's a lovely smell, and it's light! It's not so heavy or "gourmandish" even though it's sweet. In other words, it can be worn anywhere at almost any time. It's true to it's name, which when translated means "skin games", as it plays and stays on the skin, never going too far or annoying anyone. I personally love it!
Jeux de Peau opens with a host of gourmand notes. I get the wheat, the milk and the coconut, and liquorice in the background. It's very nice and pleasing. In the background I get hints of osmanthus blossom, which can smell a little like rice and a hint of apricot, and the use of an apricot note to compliment this side to the osmanthus is really great. The pairing of immortelle with liquorice is not a new one, as done before in Dior Collection Privée - Eau Noire, but here is is gentle and sweet, and compliments beautifully with the other notes. As usual, the base is made up of sandalwood, which is itself a very creamy or "milky" note, and we have seen this wood paired up with a real milk note before Hermèssence - Santal Massoïa. But here is has more substance and lasts longer.
Overall, a wonderful warm and inviting fragrance, which doesn't offend in any way, smells very alluring, and which blends really well with the skin to make you smell delicious. If you like gourmands, you'll like this, and even if you don't, you'll still like this. That's the magic of this one! A nice perfume with a unique and quite lovely smell. Like a warm smell from a bakery in winter. Just wonderful!
Not a bad scent. Just a boring gourmand. Been there, done that. Bread and a few light spices.
Genre: Woods
Serge Lutens has done gourmand before; most obviously in the guise of Five O-Clock au Gingembre, Louve, and Rahät Loukoum. Jeux de Peau extends the line further in that direction. Yet where those earlier scents were either spicy or syrupy-sweet in their approximations of food, Jeux de Peau approaches comestibles from a more savory angle. It's still dessert, mind you, but it's more almond brioche than fruitcake or baklava.
A warm, yeasty, fresh baked goods accord greets the nose almost immediately, soon followed by sweetening touches of heliotrope and immortelle. Dry sandalwood balances the sweetness with a vaguely nutty influence, while a dab of the apricot familiar from Lutens's earlier Daim Blond adds a welcome piquancy to the central arrangement. Jeux de Peau stands out as one of the few scents I know (along with Jubilation XXV and Etat Libre d'Orange's Like This,) that successfully incorporate immortelle without drowning themselves in its dense, viscous tide.
While Jeux de Peau is extremely soft in olfactory texture, it projects well from the skin and plays out in a linear manner for several hours' wear. The dusty cedar and mild, powdery amber drydown smells disappointingly hollow once it arrives, but at least it's not oppressively sweet or heavy. Despite the faintly risqué name (which translates as skin games), wearing Jeux de Peau is a pleasant and comforting experience. Yet I feel the scent betrays its name in that, for all its cuddly texture and comforting associations, it wears awkwardly on my skin. The impression is hard to convey, but after every wearing I'm left thinking I'd like Jeux de Peau better in a room spray or a candle than on me.
Serge Lutens has done gourmand before; most obviously in the guise of Five O-Clock au Gingembre, Louve, and Rahät Loukoum. Jeux de Peau extends the line further in that direction. Yet where those earlier scents were either spicy or syrupy-sweet in their approximations of food, Jeux de Peau approaches comestibles from a more savory angle. It's still dessert, mind you, but it's more almond brioche than fruitcake or baklava.
A warm, yeasty, fresh baked goods accord greets the nose almost immediately, soon followed by sweetening touches of heliotrope and immortelle. Dry sandalwood balances the sweetness with a vaguely nutty influence, while a dab of the apricot familiar from Lutens's earlier Daim Blond adds a welcome piquancy to the central arrangement. Jeux de Peau stands out as one of the few scents I know (along with Jubilation XXV and Etat Libre d'Orange's Like This,) that successfully incorporate immortelle without drowning themselves in its dense, viscous tide.
While Jeux de Peau is extremely soft in olfactory texture, it projects well from the skin and plays out in a linear manner for several hours' wear. The dusty cedar and mild, powdery amber drydown smells disappointingly hollow once it arrives, but at least it's not oppressively sweet or heavy. Despite the faintly risqué name (which translates as skin games), wearing Jeux de Peau is a pleasant and comforting experience. Yet I feel the scent betrays its name in that, for all its cuddly texture and comforting associations, it wears awkwardly on my skin. The impression is hard to convey, but after every wearing I'm left thinking I'd like Jeux de Peau better in a room spray or a candle than on me.
They recently got the Serge Lutens line at my local Sephora, and I went a little nuts there and ended up spraying this on my skin in my haste. HUGE mistake for me! I tried this because I like creamy, warm & spicy fragrances and also peach & coconut, so I thought this would be a winner. However, this hit me with an overpowering "stale popcorn" smell that even the Sephora SA remarked on. Like butter that had melted and gone rancid. I was expecting something along the lines of croissants, (which I also love) or the creamy/ buttery qualities of many tuberose perfumes, but this was horrid. I thought it might be the wheat note, but there is a wheat note in FM's En passant, which I think is beautiful. Maybe it is the immortelle, as I don't know what that is suppose to smell like? Needless to say, this was a scrubber for me, though it sounds far lovelier on others.
Very discrete games The opening's spices take on a wormed-up bread note with a dirty fruity character, which later sees some wood added. An original take, but extremely faint ofter the first thirty minutes, with very little silage and projection on my skin. Gone after about two hours. The points are for the originality of this skin game.
Jeux de Peau would have benefited from greater weight placed on its darker notes of immortelle and toasted cereals. More maple syrup and less cheap caramel, please! Before the inevitable sugar crash, the scent does a nice impression of a plump croissant smothered in apricot jam.
It's not as if Lutens hasn't fallen into this sticky trap before, yet he still sometimes misjudges the balance between what's appetizing and what's merely edible.
It's not as if Lutens hasn't fallen into this sticky trap before, yet he still sometimes misjudges the balance between what's appetizing and what's merely edible.
light spices,mild licorce and a bit of wood is what i detect. the bread note is light upon the first few minutes then the licorce kicks in. kinda foody but not gourmand. a strange scent that i like but my 1ml sample is good enough. maybe i will splurge for the huge 5 ml decant!! lol
My first full bottle of Serge Lutens - but will not be my last! The best way I can describe this is as foody without smelling foody. I can smell the bread, I can smell the jam and the fruit, but it does not come across at all like cake or cookies, just like the best bakery you have ever been in that doesn't happen to stock anything in chocolate.
Jeux de Peau
The scent of Baked Bread like Croissants ....even a Baguette is intended and unmistakable
On the skin, my nose picks up something of the nuances of bread which seem to
fade into a buttery heaven,
with an tiny bit of Fruity Confiture
As the perfume mellows down it takes on a subtle nuances ...
Skin and Croissant/ Baguette get confused.
Jeux de Peau is a skin scent...
meant to stay close to the body,
disappearing into nothing more than a whisper.
The Bread butter smell is very faint and you need to be very close to encounter it.
The drydown is particularly beautiful
Settling into a wood palette of milky sandalwood.
.
This fragrance is made to play with our memory of
things we are familiar with
and unconsciously like ....
The scent of Baked Bread like Croissants ....even a Baguette is intended and unmistakable
On the skin, my nose picks up something of the nuances of bread which seem to
fade into a buttery heaven,
with an tiny bit of Fruity Confiture
As the perfume mellows down it takes on a subtle nuances ...
Skin and Croissant/ Baguette get confused.
Jeux de Peau is a skin scent...
meant to stay close to the body,
disappearing into nothing more than a whisper.
The Bread butter smell is very faint and you need to be very close to encounter it.
The drydown is particularly beautiful
Settling into a wood palette of milky sandalwood.
.
This fragrance is made to play with our memory of
things we are familiar with
and unconsciously like ....
This is awful, truly awful. Like the über strong, sickeningly fake gingerbread accord in some Holiday scented candle. Others say buttered popcorn and it might be that too - only, I'd add, definitely caramel-flavoured ones. After reading the list of notes I definitely feel the bread (very plasticky cheap "freshly baked bread" accord), licorice and immortelle, and it's not a good combo.
Souk popcorn. Mellow and foody, with a topping of butter if one is being charitable, dry sweat if one is not a certain saltiness rising above the glutenfest. A little while in, the milky sweetness began to rise but never got uncomfortable and then a few hours later it subsided again and I was left with a toned down version of the opening. If this were available in small bottles, I'd get it like a shot it certainly intrigues even if it does not wow.
Serge Lutens is one of my latest discoveries ever since I entered 'the world of fragrance', and I've been pleasantly surprised by many of his scents, but this is not one of it.
I was intrigued by the bread and baking notes, in combination with the floral and woody notes, and after I've read the raving review Bois de Jasmin gave I really wanted to try this. But this it was such an utter dissappointment: all I smelled was greasy buttery caramelized popcorn. It actually reminded me of a Black Phoenix Alchemy lab oil I've tried called Shill, one that oughtta smell like buttered popcorn, and it did..
The buttered note became a bit softer during the drydown but it never left and I really didn't like this. I think that because of this note I really couldn't detect or appreciate any other notes, it completely ruined the fume for me.
But lucky for me there are plenty of other SL to love :)
I was intrigued by the bread and baking notes, in combination with the floral and woody notes, and after I've read the raving review Bois de Jasmin gave I really wanted to try this. But this it was such an utter dissappointment: all I smelled was greasy buttery caramelized popcorn. It actually reminded me of a Black Phoenix Alchemy lab oil I've tried called Shill, one that oughtta smell like buttered popcorn, and it did..
The buttered note became a bit softer during the drydown but it never left and I really didn't like this. I think that because of this note I really couldn't detect or appreciate any other notes, it completely ruined the fume for me.
But lucky for me there are plenty of other SL to love :)