Nuit de Cellophane Eau de Parfum

Cellophane night? The name was meant to shock, says the enigmatic maestro of the Palais Royal -- though what it alludes to is simply the material used to wrap bouquets in flower shops. At first sniff, you may think Serge Lutens has gone mainstream. Nuit de Cellophane is, undeniably, a fruity floral drowned in a cloud of fluffy musk. But smell more closely, and the little night music running through the Lutens opus will make itself heard: the stained-glass light of mandarin, warmed by the solar cinnamon roundness of myrrh, drowns the dusk-blooming, indolic jasmine in sunset hues. A slight mentholated whiff betrays a roving tuberose throwing her green flash. Chinese osmanthus, with its juicy apricot sweetness and suede-like facets, is offset by the clove-y warmth of carnation and the milky lushness of almonds. A touch of lily adds smokiness to the blend, melding into the woody, creamy sandalwood base drowned in honey. A deceptively innocent, multi-textured fragrance whose carnal whisper