Created in 2008 by Uncle Serge himself and the legendary Christopher Sheldrake, Serge Noire, is a fabulously deep and dark spicy scent. On the right skin that is. Sadly on me, there is a definite “off” note which was backed up my expert in residence, and three year olds don’t have an edit button.
The notes listed had my mouth watering. There is not one note that I don’t love: Patchouli, Amber, Incense, Ebony, Clove, Spices and Woods. I love it all. Pile it on, I can take it.
Or so I thought. Just as I was blissing out in the smoky tones of the top notes, a note of Baked Bean-like body odour jumped out and slapped me in the face. How rude, I thought. I tested a second time, later in the day. There it was again, the unmistakable smell of an unwashed truck driver’s armpits. Just to check it wasn’t me, I stuck my hand under the nose of my aforementioned three year old. I was vindicated. “Yuk,” he said, “Cheese and onion”.
You see, it’s not just me, I promise. I did not prompt him, and he was in the middle of watching Numberjacks, so his verdict was both random and candid. As if to torment me more, the other notes smell intoxicatingly good: smoky, dark, spicy and perfect for Autumn. I would love to smell like this, apart from the obvious drawback.
To eliminate random elements, I can assure my dear readers that my personal hygiene is of the highest order and that the side of my wrist has never smelt of BO even on the hottest of days.
It’s just a combination of chemistry and bad luck. I actually love Serge Noire and will be jealous of anyone who can wear it without this truck driver barging in. I can smell it’s rich potential, in fact, there is even a wonderful hint of black pepper in there when I waft it past my disappointed nose.
I blame myself, I bet this smells lovely on everyone else, and I happen to know a certain reader has just bagged herself a bottle. I bet she smells amazing in it too. Damn.