This is a wonderful musk skin-scent that floats around in a simple but pretty aura.
It is fresh and easy enough for summer, with the musk and fruity undertones, but by the same sentiment, complex and sensual enough for the winter. Versatile fragrances are really wonderful.
It never overpowers, and leaves a gentle, bewitching trail. Even if it is a product of the 70's, it certainly isn't dated - musk is timeless, and the blackberry keeps it anchored, smooth and somewhat tart - so, never boring.
I love having this fragrance in my collection and do find myself missing it, if I'm not wearing it, similar to how I sometimes feel about Premier Figuier (which I rave about) - this is a very special fragrance and not at all one I could not have with me. It relaxes me, it soothes me, it makes me feel calm, and it makes me feel gorgeous.
Aromatic, memorable, interesting, versatile, alluring.
Mure et Musc by L`Artisan Parfumeur opens with aldehydes, clean musk, and a bright, beautiful lemon. Once the lemon calms down, the blackberry starts to shine and serves to lift the musk. Next, a green spicy note, maybe basil or tomato leaf, wedges itself between the aldehydes and musk. I really love this fragrance for the summer; for some reason it reminds me of girl scout camp during the 1980s. Maybe itís the combination of blackberry bushes and late 70s sexy-clean musk/aldehydes. Fresh moustache.
I found Mure et Musc harsh. Musc is very pronounced, whereas blackberry note is pungent and earthy. It smells more like expensive soap.
I adore this scent (the EDT). On me, it's berries (blackberries, to be exact) and musk--I get none of the citrus, oakmoss, or basil notes. The berry scent is dry--less juicy than, say, Trish #9--and the musk is a wonderful complement. It's very elegant, wears close to the skin (which I prefer), and isn't too light for winter or heavy for summer. If you hate florals and are looking for a subdued, unique scent, give this a try. It's well worth the (high) price.
I read the reviews and was looking for a berry fragrance but this is not good. I don't get any berry from this it is some kind of soapy musky smell that really lasts. Why do the ones I don't like seem to last and last? It is really making me ill while I write this review. It is very expensive, but not worth it. I'd rather go to B&BW and get the Black Raspberry Vanilla.
I have to confess from the start that I adore L'Artisan. Just adore this line. And a bit of history is warranted. Back in "the day" when gourmand fragrances were few and far between, L'Artisan came out with this one, and with Vanilia-- the latter giving birth to the vanilla craze. And Mure et Musc does smell fruity. Not fruity like some modern gourmands or fruity florals. There are no mystery fruits in here, no red licorice smelling notes, no cloying guava or passion fruit notes. I have picked many a blackberry in my life, and they have really little scent to them, unlike some other fruits. But the blackberry note in this fragrance evokes fresh blackberries. It just does. The musk is not animalic or raunchy, and really just grounds this in a soft shawl sense, and makes it smell alive. This is the scent of Michaelmas, when wild berries are very ripe, the leaves are thinking about starting to change color, and the mornings are crisp and softly golden. This is soft. It will not walk in the room ahead of you. It will not leave a cloud in the elevator once you exit. It smells organic and melds easily with skin.
I met the acquaintance of Mure et Musc tonight after a lackadaisical stroll into a fragrance shop. [Imagine how wide my eyes grew when I saw rows of niche perfumes! And to think, I had walked by this store countless times on my way to work with nary a gaze askance!] I didn't have high hopes for this one, as I have been generally unimpressed by the predictably saccharine, flat quality common to Falling In Love, Trish McEvoy, Blackberry Musk (by various etailers), and etc.
Mure et Musc is in a league all of its own, however. I am downright incredulous how the notion of a blackberry can be distilled, captured, and crystallized with such clarity and candour. There is nothing cloying in countenance nor wake, this is something I can imagine trailing behind an elegant black dress.
I am a full-blown gourmand scentlover, but Mure et Musc is a far cry from anything I would eat or drink, and it won me over.
Most enigmatic of all however, is the manner in which the Mure and the Musc fold into one another to become one single, unified note. Hours later, as I raise my left forearm to my nose to assess which would be the victor, I observe the two do not seem to take turns somersaulting upon one another as much as they rear heads in unison. In fact, through this interpretation, one is pressed to believe the two were meant to be.
Now it usually comes as no surprise to me that people will have a wide range of opinions about a given scent, but I fell so hard, so dizzyingly, so instantly in love with Mure et Musc that I was honestly shocked to see how mixed and mediocre the reviews were.
On me, Mure et Musc opens with a blast of true blackberry. Growing up in the PNW, blackberries mean late summer, and this is the scent of actual blackberries on the vine -- not as sweet smelling as they taste, a bit tart, the olfactory equivalent of the odd berry in your handful that wasn't completely ripe (which you only found out after you popped it in your mouth). It's not jam or crushed blackberries or a blackberry dessert, just the odor of blackberries on a warm afternoon.
The musk comes in after that and it's anything but soapy on my skin. It's closer to the clean end of the spectrum than the skanky end, to be sure, but it's warm and slightly golden. It grows from a subtle presence like an invisible friend tapping on my shoulder into a delicate but prominent blend of musk and berry that's more than the sum of it's parts; not "blackberries and musk" but simply a musky berry, a fantastic olfactory illusion that's a delight to be tricked into.
This is just beautiful. Right now I feel like I want to smell like it for the rest of my life.
I find it light, not shortlived mind you but so light that the subtler the musk gets the harder it is to pick up, which is the only reason I gave it a 4 instead of a 5.
I'm wearing this right now and it blends so well with my chemistry that I smell like me, only cleaner and sweeter. I can't say if I would buy a full bottle but I may purchase a decant.
When I first considered trying this scent, I was put off by the increasing number of lukewarm to just plain bad reviews. I thought that maybe the rumored reformulation was to blame. I now think that the subjective experience of the wearer is the reason for MetMs recent lukewarm reception. I'm glad I didn't heed the naysayers because Ihave entered into a long term relationship with this scent. It is fantastic. Bear in mind, my other l'artisan favorite and first perfume love is Dzing, so I enjoy the interplay between softly sweet and slightly funky. MetM is sweet and funky for sure. At first spray, I get a whiff of something sharp and resinous like pine almost. I can definitley understand the aftershave comparison at this point. Within five minutes however, the heart notes start to emerge and it's dark, purple berries balanced by soft, funky musk. The musk in MetM is certainly on the lightest end of the musk spectrum, and the berries are not at all fruity to my nose. The overall composition is so well balanced that it smells like sweet, warm skin. I imagine summer sunsets, cassis, woods, and sex, but not the kinky kind. Innocent and dark at the same time. This is first
summer love in a bottle. The perfect scent to try in this bleak winter weather. I wish I could give it 4.5 stars. I'm only taking a little off because I have to reapply at least once. I don't mind because this scent is an attitude adjustment in a bottle for me. Cheaper than therapy.