Moonlight on my wrist: L’Artisan Parfumeur unveils Fleur de Lune

I’ll say it: I’m a sucker for night flowers. The quiet, the hush, the moment when a bloom decides the world has earned its scent. So the arrival of L’Artisan Parfumeur’s new limited edition, Fleur de Lune, had me tilting my wrist toward the window, waiting for that lunar hush to land.

“Moon flower” hints at the nocturnal family tree — think jasmine sambac, tuberose, datura — flowers that open when the rest of the city is asleep. If you know L’Artisan Parfumeur, you know their touch with florals runs gossamer rather than gaudy. La Chasse aux Papillons drapes a sheer veil of petal and light. Nuit de Tubéreuse gave tuberose a restless, urban heartbeat. Even the brand’s more resinous moments, like Passage d’Enfer, stay translucent, candle-flicker rather than bonfire.

I haven’t put my nose to Fleur de Lune yet, and I won’t pretend otherwise. But 2025’s white floral mood is clear: less buttercream, more halo. Expect green stems and air, a lift of citrus or neroli at the top, a pulsing heart of white petals, and a base that trades syrup for pale woods and soft-musks. If you love the breezy elegance of Diptyque Do Son, the narcotic gourmand edge of Serge Lutens Datura Noir, or the photorealistic snap of Frédéric Malle Carnal Flower, imagine L’Artisan Parfumeur splitting the difference with their signature light-through-lace aesthetic.

Context matters. This house built its legend on character without heaviness — Mûre et Musc’s blackberry tingle, Timbuktu’s airy incense, Premier Figuier’s cool green milk. Fleur de Lune sounds like it will sit comfortably in that lineage, a dress you notice by the way it moves rather than the volume of its sequins.

I’ll be hunting it down in person soon, likely testing on a chilly evening when streetlights feel like jewelry. Limited editions from this house have a habit of slipping away just when you decide you need them, so get a blotter on skin before the moon sets. If the name delivers, this could be the white floral that behaves — intimate, lucid, and a little bit dangerous when the night gets quiet.