Lua, part of Xerjoff’s Shooting Stars collection, is wrong in many respects. It is too expensive for one, but that is an old hat, we have had this discussion about Xerjoff, and it is a given, so moving on.

The second deterrent is that Lua is a fruity-floral. Don’t we all frown upon those, their ubiquity, their unoriginality, their idea that women should smell more or less like food and flowers ?
The third deterrent? Let us look at the notes:
Lua includes notes of bergamot, orange, lemon, melon, Bulgarian rose, Florentine iris, pink pepper, lily, cedar wood, vanilla and musk.
Melon? MELON? I hate melon. I abhor it. I run a mile from it. Even JCE and his garden in India makes me turn the other way.
So, you think, is this going to be a bad review? Is she going to badmouth a Xerjoff for once so we can all sigh with relief and be content in the knowledge that the line is expensive AND bad to boot, so no loss there?
Nope. Sorry. I have been wearing Lua (of which I had four samples, all coming unbidden from several sources) only to rule it out, to get it off the list and convince myself that a discovery set of Xerjoff Shooting Star perfumes would be not only a bad, but even a totally unnecessary idea. Well, I ended up wearing Lua again and again, and with almost 8ml of samples at my disposal, I gave it a good run for its money (somehow that subjects keeps popping up again and again 😉 ) and I loved wearing it.
Lua smells good. That is probably the most unimaginative sentence to write in a perfume review, but it also highest praise.
Lua opens with a soft and sweet citrus accord and absolutely NO detectable melon at all, so you can relax about that, and develops into a warm floral heart of iris-powdered rose made sweet and gourmand-y by vanilla and at the same time kept light and fresh by the spicy sprinkle of pink pepper. The drydown is a cushiony rose-tinged vanilla musk with soft wooden edges, staying on and on for the entire day.
Okay, I’ll give you that – by no means is Lua extremely original, unique or of never-sniffed-before-creativity. You will be able to find a few good gourmand roses (PG Brulure de Rose comes to mind for instance) that are similar, and you will find many okay perfumes that are similar (Guerlain Idylle is in the olfactory vicinity) and you will find dozens of bad fragrances that utilize the same theme to not so great results.
Lua is not about unique smell. Lua is about quality. Lua is the Bentley of fruity-florals, the Maybach of gourmand roses. You get from A to B in a Fiat Panda just as well, but don’t tell me there is no difference.
I am bracing myself for an onslaught of outrage at my elitism, or snobbery, or luxury-craving shallow self. I am fine with that.
I will never drive a Bentley (or be driven rather, as you tend to be in such cars, I hear), nor do I want to, cars are not my thing, a Fiat Panda would serve me just fine. But when it comes to perfume, I want quality. I want the best. I want the best materials, the utmost care in composition and a certain flair.
I am not saying I will or even want to have a bottle of Lua, it is not love like it is with Oesel or Lira, but that is only because I have more perfume that I could ever use. Therefore it makes no great economical sense for me. Although I’d certainly splurge on a bottle, if I had only two or three.
And whatever one can say about Xerjoff, whether the bottles are tasteful or not, the prices ridiculous or not, the focus too much on design and presentation or not – the juice is good.
So let me repeat: Lua smells good.
I rest my case.
Image source: luckyscent.com, secondchancegarage.com