culture

Counterpoint: Paris-Édimbourg
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Counterpoint: Paris-Édimbourg

Welcome to this month’s “CounterPoint” about a newer fragrance: Chanel’s Paris-Édimbourg, one of Les Eaux de Chanel”, which has been a very successful series of lighter, more casual Chanel fragrances focused on freshness and named for particular destinations to which Coco Chanel regularly traveled, such as Biarritz, Deauville, and Venice. Most of “Les Eaux” are truly unisex, but Édimbourg, the fifth in the series, launched in 2021, smells to me more traditionally masculine than its predecessors. And indeed, perfume Olivier Polge has said: “Both fresh and woody, PARIS-ÉDIMBOURG could be the fragrance of a tweed jacket borrowed from the men’s wardrobe that was such an inspiration to Gabrielle Chanel.”

Apparently, Coco Chanel spent a lot of time in Scotland in the 1920s during the years when she was having an affair with the Duke of Westminster, who owned vast estates in the Scottish Highlands — a wild, forested, mountainous area, where nevertheless the visiting landed gentry and their guests still dressed for dinner after a day of fishing, shooting, tramping, and other outdoor pursuits.

Bottle of Chanel's Paris-Édimbourg fragrance
Les Eaux de Chanel: Paris-Édimbourg; chanel.com
  1. How did you first encounter Paris-Édimbourg and what was your first impression?

Portia: Being an Aussie we tend to get everything a little behind the rest of the world but I always check in with my local CHANEL Beauty stand alone store in the Westfield just down the road. Everyone was raving about the newest from the Les Eaux range and that they’d picked such a strange place to be the destination. I’ve no memory in my readings of Coco hitting the Scottish Moors but that’s probably my memory. Anyway, I went into CHANEL Beauty on the off chance and lo and behold there was a Tester and stock. Did you know they also have body products? So cool. Tried it, walked around the mall doing my shopping and went back to buy it before leaving. Honestly, I would have bought it anyway because I’m a completionist and I already had the rest of the line. That it was so bloody gorgeous was just the cherry on top.

Old Herbaceous: I was able to get a travel spray decant of it from a monthly fragrance subscription, after I had done the same with the earlier “Eaux de Chanel.” With the first three, I had tried them as samples pre-pandemic at Nordstrom, and liked them very much. So when my subscription started offering decants of them, I quickly added them to my queue! Also, I have a thing for complete collections (Portia calls that being a “completionist”, lol), which I usually try to restrain, but chose to indulge with Les Eaux. After all, travel sprays don’t take up much space!

My first impression was that this is a traditionally masculine aromatic fragrance, and that is still my impression. I ended up giving my travel spray to my 22 year-old son, and he loves it so much that he requested a full bottle for his birthday this summer. His very chic girlfriend loves it on him, which I’m sure clinched the matter! It does smell very nice on him, and he likes the fact that it reminds him of Scotland, a country we have visited as a family and enjoyed very much.

Fragrantica classifies Paris-Édimbourg as woody, aromatic, and aquatic. Top notes are listed as cypress and juniper berries, middles not as cedar, lavender, and vetiver; base notes as musk and vanilla. I’m not sure why it includes “aquatic” in its description, because to me, it doesn’t particularly evoke water or watery notes. It does have the bracing, cool quality of aromatic evergreens.

2. How would you describe the development of Paris-Édimbourg?

Old Herbaceous: The opening is quite strong, and redolent of juniper even more than cypress. I like that a lot (the only hard spirit I drink, on the rare occasion when I have a cocktail instead of wine, is gin, which is flavored with juniper berries; perhaps that is the perfumer’s clever reference to the cocktails undoubtedly enjoyed by Chanel and her friends). The cypress and juniper notes combine to smell very herbal and green, to my nose — another plus for me. At this stage, Paris-Édimbourg has strong sillage, so one might want to apply it lightly. One light spritz on my wrist carries well beyond my arm’s reach, and I expect most wearers will want to apply scent to more than just one wrist.

As it moves into the heart phase, Paris-Édimbourg becomes less green and more herbal with the lavender accord becoming prominent. The cedar and vetiver accords lend warmth and woodiness to this stage, and contribute, with the lavender, to the impression of a more traditionally masculine fougere-style fragrance. The light application to start pays off in this stage, as it now feels “just right” to my nose, though still a fragrance I would prefer on my husband’s skin to my own. It just goes to show you how engrained these cultural impressions can be, aided by the fact that both my husband and my late father have leaned toward classic “barbershop” fougeres in their fragrances.

The dry-down stage is very pleasant, becoming the scent of warm “skin but better” with its base notes of musk and vanilla. The lingering traces of lavender lend it a soapiness that is very pleasing, evoking not just warm skin, but clean skin.

Portia: The opening woods are green and spicy. The tart citrus even veers towards grapefruit and I’m smelling something spicy like nutmeg, maybe cinnamon. Could it be the juniper berry? I’ve always smelt that as a cool spice, like capsicum as opposed to chilli.Ahhh, the heart resolves into juniper and pine. 

Paris-Edimbourg smells so fresh and clean, like a modern fine fragrance version of Norsca. Yeah! I remember thinking that on my first wear. Reminiscent, not same. Just a jump started memory. There is a warm sweetness as we head towards dry down. I’d have said a not very vanilla heavy amber, resinous sweetness. 

I’ve been and had Korean BarBQ, a few drinks and chatter, then watched some footy. There’s still an oily grass, pithy citrus and fluffy musks with some torn green twiggy branch. Now feeling done in a very Jean-Claude Ellena vein. A soft wash of it. That’s a long ride for what is basically a cologne style of fragrance.

3. Do you or will you wear Paris-Édimbourg regularly? For what occasions or seasons?

Portia: Amusingly, until today Paris-Edimbourg had sat unopened in my wardrobe. You can see the wrapping in the photo.

Bottle and box of Chanel's fragrance Paris-Édimbourg
Les Eaux de Chanel: Paris-Édimbourg; image by Portia Turbo.

We are heading into our warmer months in Oz. Already the days are 20C/70f and above. Paris-Edimbourg fit the day perfectly and has even been a good fit for this evening. Last summer I wore Paris-Venise and Paris-Riviera so much they secured places in the grab tray. I think Paris-Edimbourg will be taking Paris-Venise‘s spot.

Old Herbaceous: I doubt that I’ll wear it myself, but I’ll enjoy smelling it regularly on my son! I think it’s just right for an occasion when one wants to smell a bit more “dressy” but still at ease. Paris-Édimbourg strikes me as the scent equivalent of male or female “business casual” — a fragrance that goes with a crisp collared shirt and neatly pressed, tailored pants. Classic and well-mannered.

4. Who should/could wear Paris-Édimbourg?

Old Herbaceous: Aside from the standard reply, “anyone who wants to”, I do perceive this as a more masculine fragrance based on my own scent history, but it could be worn to great effect by a woman or really anyone of any gender! In that sense, like the other “Eaux de Chanel”, Paris-Édimbourg is absolutely unisex. Perfumer Olivier Polge and Chanel have called it “androgynous”, which I think fits.

Portia: The joy of the Les Eaux line is they are wearable by all.  Paris-Edimbourg is no exception and I think it might even be the most masculine leaning of the set. The bottles are a beautiful hark back to vintage CHANEL and I love that they’ve used the regular box lining-card for the outer presentation. The price point is affordable for a luxury brand and I’m thinking this could be a very good gift for someone special. Who doesn’t love a little bit of a CHANEL logo?

Most of us need another perfume like an extra hole in our heads but if your collection is missing a very wearable, spritz and go cologne style scent then you could do a lot worse than Paris-Edimbourg.

Have you tried this, or any of the other “Eaux de Chanel”? Any favorites? Do you have any on your wish list or “to-try” list?

Bottle of Chanel's fragrance Paris-Édimbourg
Les Eaux de Chanel: Paris-Édimbourg; image from chanel.com
Perfume Chat Room, July 21
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Perfume Chat Room, July 21

Welcome to the weekly Perfume Chat Room, perfumistas! I envision this chat room as a weekly drop-in spot online, where readers may ask questions, suggest fragrances, tell others their SOTD, comment on new releases or old favorites, and respond to each other. The perennial theme is fragrance, but we can interpret that broadly. This is meant to be a kind space, so please try not to give or take offense, and let’s all agree to disagree when opinions differ. In fragrance as in life, your mileage may vary! YMMV.

Today is Friday, July 21, and it is HOT! We did get some rain last night for the first time in several days, which will help my garden survive the next heat wave. I’ve been watering daily like a fanatic, but so far, everything is doing well, including the tomatoes that I swear every year I won’t plant again, and then I do.

Update on the Lucy saga: we seem to have conquered the pee smell, yay! And she hasn’t repeated her accidents, so we think some of the calming resources we’re using for her during thundery weather may be helping. Who’s a good girl?

If you haven’t yet read Portia’s and my latest “Counterpoint“, check it out! We’re having a lot of fun with these monthly collaborations (the other being “Notes on Notes“).

Are you sweltering in hot weather? How do you cool off? I am mostly staying inside, also due to poor air quality from the Canadian forest fires (!), venturing outside in the morning to do garden tasks, then retreating inside either at my office or house. I’ll go outside again around 6, when things start to cool down a bit, mostly to check on plants.

Happy weekend, everyone!

Counterpoint: Cabochard
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Counterpoint: Cabochard

Cabochard may be the best known fragrance issued by the house of Grès, at least to this generation of perfumistas. It is not the only one, but it was the first and it is one of only a few that came out while the real Madame Grès still owned the perfume line, which she sold in 1982. (Others I own are Cabaret and Cabotine). It was created in 1959 by legendary perfumer Bernard Chant, who also created strong fragrances like Aromatics Elixir, Azurée, Aramis, and the original Halston, now called Halston Classic. It is a classic leather chypre, originally with a full symphony of notes and accords, which Fragrantica lists as: aldehydes, sage, spices, tarragon, asafoetida, lemon and fruity notes; middle notes of geranium, orris root, rose, jasmine and ylang-ylang; base notes of leather, oakmoss, tobacco, vetiver, patchouli, sandalwood, musk, amber, and coconut.

Madame Grès was a legendary designer of haute couture, based mostly in Paris and dressing its elite from the 1930s into the 1980s. Her creations are truly unique – you look at one of her garments and you know it’s by her. They are in many collections, including the Costume Institute of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, which describes her work thus:

“Madame Alix Grès’ career spanned five decades and throughout them all she excelled in her ability to manipulate fabric and use its innate characteristics to enhance her designs. She executed flowing body-skimming forms inspired by ancient Greek dress; minimalist, sculptural forms and voluminous, dramatic shapes.”

I chose Cabochard as this month’s “Counterpoint” fragrance to write about with Portia (of the blog Australian Perfume Junkies) because I saw a rare exhibit of Madame Grès dresses and other outfits a few weeks ago. Most of the items displayed were from the private collection of the late Azzedine Alaïa, another genius of garment construction who studied Madame Grès and her techniques. This post will be liberally sprinkled with photos I took! There were so many gorgeous dresses that it was hard to choose.

Cabochard and Madame Gres

Apparently the fragrance took inspiration from a trip to India that Madame Grès took in the late 1950s to look into the reorganization of traditional Indian textile manufacture, a project of the Ford Foundation and others. It was named Cabochard because of her well-known stubbornness and determination, on full display during the Nazi occupation of Paris in the 1940s, when she refused to serve German clients (who were mostly wives of Nazi officers). Another example is that when she was ordered to stop using so much fabric, at first she defied the order, and they shut down her atelier, then she complied but her next collection was all in the colors of the French flag: red, white, and blue.

  1. How did you first encounter Cabochard and what was your first impression?

Portia: I cannot remember the first time I smelled Cabochard. Maybe it was on an Aunt or one of Mum’s friends, or one of my friend’s Mums. It could have been a sniff session in a department store in the time that I loved perfume but wasn’t internet connected to you all or maybe I read about it in the initial stages of discovering the scent blogosphere. I do remember that I bought a tall slender bottle with a black lid, maybe even from overseas way back in the time of postal ability. That bottle was given to a friend when they fell madly in love. Then I scored an extrait that had my mind whirling (still does, though it’s a second bottle now) and lastly, when the bottle was redesigned and the fragrance given a spruce for modern day I grabbed a tester for next to nothing. Perfumer Bernard Chant created Cabochard in 1959, Aramis in 1966 and Aromatics Elixir in 1971. A trilogy or family of fragrance, all similar but riffing different elements.

Dresses by Madame Gres

Old Herbaceous: I got a heavily discounted bottle of Cabochard eau de toilette after reading Luca Turin’s hilarious but scathing review in “Perfumes: The A-Z Guide”, in which he famously called this reformulation “Cabochard chewed down to a frazzle by accountant moths” and compared it to a time-ravaged Peter O’Toole whom no one recognized any more. I had previously bought another Grès fragrance, Cabaret (which came out long after she had died), and liked it very much, so I thought I would see what Cabochard was like and whether it deserved such criticism. Of course, I don’t have the original vintage for a comparison, but I was curious anyway. And I also found the name charming: stubborn, like a donkey, but also resolute and determined.

Cabochard has been reformulated (as have so many classics), and for a long time, what was available was the version I first bought, in a tall, slender bottle with a bas-relief bow on front. However, in 2019, the current owners of the brand reissued Cabochard in eau de toilette and eau de parfum, in shorter bottles with real black ribbons on the neck. These improve on their immediate predecessor and have been well-received, so I own both!

My initial impression was that Cabochard reminded me of Chanel No. 19, which startled me until I re-read the list of notes and saw that the 2019 eau de parfum has a strong dose of galbanum as one of its top notes. I like the opening very much, no surprise! When I asked my 21 year-old son to tell me what he thought, he sniffed my wrist and said “I can’t say I LIKE it, but I wouldn’t say I dislike it either. It’s really different!” How is that for a diplomatic answer?

  • How would you describe the development of Cabochard?

Old Herbaceous: I’m wearing the 2019 eau de parfum, which has a different list of notes from the original, according to Fragrantica: top notes of aldehydes, galbanum, and sage; heart notes of ylang-ylang, rose, and jasmine; base notes of oakmoss, leather, patchouli, and sandalwood. Right away, the aldehydes and galbanum hit the nose; the aldehydes drift away, but the galbanum remains a leading player. I barely smell any of the floral notes at all, then the base notes arrive — and wow, do they persist! Very true to the fragrance’s name, lol. Of those, the one I smell the least is sandalwood, which is a shame as that is clearly a reference to India. The oakmoss note is potent, and in 2019, it might still have had some real oakmoss atranol, though it was heavily restricted by then, and atranol was banned entirely in Europe in 2021. I’m guessing that by 2019, Parfums Grès was already using a modern substitute, both for cost reasons and because the ban was on the horizon.

The 2019 eau de toilette also has its own slightly different list of notes, which Fragrantica lists as: top notes of aldehydes, bergamot, and sage; heart notes of ylang-ylang, rose, and jasmine; base notes of oakmoss, leather, patchouli, and sandalwood. This is actually a more classic chypre structure, with bergamot among its top notes which the eau de parfum lacks.

Neil Chapman, author of The Black Narcissus blog, wrote about Cabochard in his marvelous book “Perfume: In Search of Your Signature Scent”, and described it as “a dark and brooding scent of greys, purples, and blacks that hovers, tantalizingly, above the skin” (I think he was describing the vintage extrait). To my nose, because of the galbanum and base notes, the eau de parfum is indeed “dark and brooding” but varying shades of dark green and brown.

Portia: Wearing vintage extrait and modern EdT. The opening fruity sparkle is herbaceous, aromatic and dense. Imagine being in the storeroom of an Indian bazaar, the spark and buzz of faulty electrics, fruit and veg in waxy cardboard boxes, sizzling spices, bitter herbs, and the scent of dozens of boxes of sandalwood soap. Cabochard is as full on as you can imagine. A heavy, hectic, psychedelic scent that manages to be all this and warmly classy too. That is quite a feat to keep something so big from flying out of control. It’s definitely a hark back to perfume of yesteryear but much of today’s product could learn a thing or ten from one sniff of Cabochard.

Fragrance bottles of Cabochard eau de toilette and parfum
Cabochard eau de toilette (2019) and parfum; image by Portia Turbo.

Through the heart flowers are a bouquet and I can’t pick any of them out, not really pick them out, though I get flashes of ideas of flowers. It doesn’t matter anyway because already the base notes are coming through: sandalwood, tobacco, patchouli, leather and oakmoss are the ones I can detect but what I really smell is Cabochard. It’s the base of Cabochard that IS Cabochard to me. That long trail of golden darkness that floats mysteriously around me for hours and hours.

  • Do you or will you wear Cabochard regularly? For what occasions or seasons?

Portia: It’s funny. I just put my Cabochard EdT in its box to give it a rest. I keep the extrait out for sneaky swipes. Cabochard is an excellent foil against the downward spiral of depression. Something so thick, rich, tapestried and enigmatic can derail the slide brilliantly if I catch it early enough. So yes, Cabochard gets wear.

It’s also a perfect glamour scent for nights working a drag. Cabochard’s fine line between masculine and feminine in scent is a perfect match.

Old Herbaceous: I don’t wear it often, and when I do, I realize that I really have to be in the mood for Cabochard. To me, it is a fragrance best suited to fall and winter, when it appeals to me most; to my nose, it’s a bit much in the hot, humid weather we get here in the summer.

  • Who should/could wear Cabochard?

Old Herbaceous: I find Cabochard totally unisex – wearable by men or women without startling anyone with traditional expectations. Not surprising, given that its original creator Bernard Chant also came up with Aramis, a legendary masculine fragrance that is still a top seller, and strong feminine fragrances like Aromatics Elixir and Azurée (also Beautiful, more floral than many of his other creations).

Portia: Cabochard is truly unisex. Anyone with the chutzpah to wear such an iconic fragrance should definitely get some on. It’s a big perfume but a single spritz could even be low key enough for the workplace. Should you need armour, to make an entrance, to become an object of power then a couple of sprays more. 10 sprays should gas those nearby, dry clean your curtains and make people give you a wide berth. I’m wearing 10 sprays right now, home alone and in my perfume room/office. Bloody heaven!

Did I mention that Cabochard can be had for very little money on the discount sites? So, affordable glamour. YAY!

Have you tried Cabochard, vintage or modern? Which version, and what do you think?

Perfume Chat Room, July 14
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Perfume Chat Room, July 14

Welcome to the weekly Perfume Chat Room, perfumistas! I envision this chat room as a weekly drop-in spot online, where readers may ask questions, suggest fragrances, tell others their SOTD, comment on new releases or old favorites, and respond to each other. The perennial theme is fragrance, but we can interpret that broadly. This is meant to be a kind space, so please try not to give or take offense, and let’s all agree to disagree when opinions differ. In fragrance as in life, your mileage may vary! YMMV.

Today is Friday, July 14, and it is Bastille Day! Vive la France!

Eiffel Tower in Paris with Bastille Day fireworks
Bastille Day fireworks; image from http://www.eurotunnel.com.

Do you plan to wear a French fragrance today? I’ve already announced, on Now Smell This, my goal of wearing a succession of French SOTDs from the houses of Caron, Chanel, Guerlain, and Jean Patou, with possible detours toward Parfums de Nicolai and Atelier des Ors. Candidates include: Infini, No. 22 or 19, Parure, and L’Heure Attendue. Wish me luck!

Please drop by on Monday for the monthly “Counterpoint” blog post that Portia Turbo and I have been doing. We’ve got a great one for you, and it’s French! Full disclosure: it may go up in the afternoon, since I’ll be at my office on campus most of the day.

My countdown toward retirement at the end of July continues — it is both exhilarating and a bit weird. My kids are planning a retirement party for me with family and friends at the end of August, and it’s such fun to find out weekly who will attend, including some dear friends from far away. My workplace will have a retirement reception for me on July 31, my last day on campus. I’m glad to get that chance to say goodbye in person to many colleagues, both at my school and from other campus offices. Since I’m not moving anywhere, I will still be able to have occasional lunch or coffee with some who are particularly close work friends. What a novelty — in almost 19 years in this job, I have rarely even left my desk for lunch (I know, bad habit).

Do you have any special favorites among French fragrances or fragrance houses? Do tell!

Notes on Notes: Rose
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Notes on Notes: Rose

Ah, roses. As you may imagine (and regulars here know), with a pen name like Old Herbaceous, it is likely that I love roses. And I do – especially the highly fragrant English Roses hybridized by the late David Austin. As of last count, I am growing 14 of them, mostly in large pots. I’ve even visited the amazing display by David Austin Roses at the RHS Chelsea Flower Show! One rewarding aspect of seeing many varieties together in real life is that one can appreciate the different scents they emanate, as well as their different shapes and colors. Below are some photos from my terrace:

The fragrance of roses is actually a very complex ballet of many different molecules. As the American Rose Society notes, different varieties can smell quite different from each other, though recognizably and undeniably “rose”. According to ARS and the website Flower Power, “Rose scents fall into seven distinct categories. They are: rose (or damask), nasturtium, orris (which is similar to violets), violets, apple, clove and lemon (the fruit, not the blossoms). There are also twenty-six other less common aromas that can be discerned. Among them are: honeysuckle, moss, hyacinth, honey, wine, marigold, peppers, parsley, and even fruity raspberry.” These different nuances present an irresistible opportunity to perfumers: they can create endless variations by emphasizing one facet or another of a rose accord’s complicated structure. The Perfume Society says that rose is a note in at least 75% of traditionally feminine fragrances and at least 10% of traditionally masculine fragrances. While many perfumistas dislike rose notes in perfume, it may be that they haven’t found the right rose yet, since there are so many, varying widely from the classic rose-scented soap your older relatives may have used. In fact, one of my favorite perfume houses focuses almost entirely on rose-centered fragrances: Les Parfums de Rosine, founded by the late Marie-Helène Rogeon.

Clair Matin, Les Parfums de Rosine

I’ve written about many of the rose fragrances I own in past years’ “Roses de Mai Marathon”, but this month I have some new ones with which to illustrate “rose” as a note in fragrance. The newest in my collection is The Coveted Duchess Rose, from Penhaligon’s “Portraits” collection and created by perfumer Christophe Raynaud. It is an eau de parfum that Fragrantica classifies as an “amber floral”. I think that’s a misnomer; the “amber” quality is due to a vanilla accord which, oddly, isn’t listed as a note on Fragrantica but is listed on the brand’s website. Other notes are Rosa centifolia (one of the varieties most used in perfume), mandarin orange, musk, and “woody notes.” The mandarin orange note opens the fragrance, which quickly pivots to a beautiful, fresh, classic rose accord. As it dries down, Duchess Rose gets warmer and muskier in a soft progression toward its base notes. The rose accord is evident throughout, but the vanilla becomes an equal partner in its dance after a couple of hours. One of the things I like about this fragrance is that it starts out very dewy and fresh, because of the mandarin orange, then slowly warms up, with the floral aspect strongest in its heart phase. It reminds me of a sunny English summer day, dawning cool and fresh, the light becoming stronger as the sun rises, then warming into late afternoon.

Probably the most unusual new rose fragrance in my collection is Miguel Matos’ Miracle of Roses, which comes as an extrait. I was able to try it and buy it this spring in Barcelona, at The Perfumery (if you get a chance, do go visit this wonderful shop with its many niche and artisanal perfumes!). It is named for a legend about St. Elizabeth of Portugal, a medieval queen. M. Matos tells the story:

“Elizabeth was born in Zaragoza, Spain in 1271, she was the daughter of Peter III of Aragon and was married off to King Denis of Portugal in 1282. Throughout her life, Elizabeth demonstrated a great compassion to the poor and legend says she would leave the palace in disguise, in order to take food for the less fortunate.

The Miracle of Roses happens one day when the king discovered that Elizabeth was leaving the palace to take food to the poor. This is something that the queen had been forbidden to do. The king had threatened to lock her up and she was to never leave the palace again if the disobeyed. Despite this, the Queen never stopped feeding the poor and every day she would leave the palace and help her people.

One winter day, Elizabeth left the palace carrying pieces of bread hidden in her dress. As the King saw her going out, he asked, “What you are carrying?” She answered, “Roses, my lord.” As it was winter and roses were nowhere to be found at the time and in that cold weather, he demanded her to show him what she was carrying. When the queen unfolded her dress, roes fell on the floor.

The transformation of bread into roses is a miracle attributed to St Elizabeth of Portugal, a woman that set an example for devotion to God and kindness to her people. After the death of her husband in 1325, she entered the Santa Clara a Velha Monastery in Coimbra where she lived until 1336, when she passed. Pope Urban VIII canonized her in 1625.”

Miracle of Roses opens with a combination of cinnamon, bread, and milk. Yes, it really does smell of bread and milk, both of which are associated with kindness and charity. The next stage is where the rose makes its first appearance, accompanied by heliotrope, immortelle, and iris. The rose is not dominant, it is equaled here by the other flowers. The base notes are frequent “collaborators” with rose accords in fragrance: sandalwood, honey, incense, and woody notes. Miracle of Roses is a beautiful, slightly eccentric fragrance that is unlike any others I own. In fact, in future wearings I may add a drop on my wrist of the gorgeous attar of Taif roses that my husband bought for me in Dubai, to amp up the rose accord (don’t tell Miguel).

Speaking of Taif roses, the third rose fragrance I’ll use to discuss the note is Perris Monte Carlo’s Rose de Taif, an eau de parfum created by perfumer Luca Maffei; it is also available as an extrait. It is an aromatic, spicy rose, with herbal nuances. Fragrantica lists its notes as: geranium, lemon and nutmeg; middle note, Taif rose; base notes, damask rose and musk. Geranium and lemon are also common companions for roses in fragrance; they share some of the same molecules like geraniol. Not surprisingly, Rose de Taif smells a bit like a scented geranium, and less fruity than some rose-based fragrances. It is a far cry from the rose soaps that turned many people against rose in fragrance! It is clearly still a rose-centric fragrance, but it has a modern flair. As proof of that, my son’s very chic college girlfriend was at our house recently when I was wearing Rose de Taif for this blog post. She immediately sniffed the air and asked what smelled so great. I feel seen! Or smelled. The modern, spicy nuances of Rose de Taif also make it an ideal unisex fragrance, especially for men who may tend to avoid sweeter, more flowery rose scents. There are many great rose fragrances targeted to men these days, but I don’t see any reason why any man couldn’t wear whatever rose fragrance appeals to him, no matter who is the target customer.

Finally, Attar de Roses by Keiko Mecheri. My bottle has gone off a bit, so I get a sort of fermented rose smell when I first spray it, but that evaporates in seconds and becomes a lovely, warm, woody rose. It has been discontinued, so the brand’s website no longer lists it. According to Fragrantica, its notes include: Taif, Shiraz and Ancienne roses, jasmine, warm, woody notes, amber and leather. Jasmine is another classic rose companion in fragrance, famously paired with rose accords in perfumes like Chanel No. 5 and the late, great Joy by Jean Patou. Here, I barely detect it; the woody notes, which smell to me like sandalwood, are more evident to my nose. Although Attar de Roses is labeled as eau de parfum, I think it must have a high concentration of fragrance oil, because I can see it as a moist patch on the back of my hand where I sprayed it, long after that first spray. It stays rose-focused throughout its development in an almost linear fashion, which I appreciate when I’m in the mood.

Bringing us back to the garden aspects of rose fragrances, I actually found a scented geranium this year called – “Attar of Roses.” By golly, when you rub its leaves, it really does smell like a rose! Most scented geraniums smell like citronella or lemongrass to my nose. I like them, but I did a double-take when I smelled this one. So of course I bought it on the spot, and it is sitting in its own, smaller pot on the terrace where I grow my English Roses. I rarely bring tender plants inside to nurture over the winter and try to bring back in the spring, but I may have to make an exception for this one.

Rose fragrances tend to elicit strong feelings, as far as I can tell. Do you love or loathe rose fragrances, or do you have mixed reactions? Please add your thoughts in the comments – just remember that a fragrance you dislike may be another reader’s long-time favorite, so as always, please try not to give or take offense! Also, go see what Portia has to say, over at Australian Perfume Junkies. And Happy Fourth of July to my fellow Americans!

Notes on Notes logo
Notes on Notes; image by Portia Turbo.
Not my garden! Isola Bella, 2022
Perfume Chat Room, June 23
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Perfume Chat Room, June 23

Welcome to the weekly Perfume Chat Room, perfumistas! I envision this chat room as a weekly drop-in spot online, where readers may ask questions, suggest fragrances, tell others their SOTD, comment on new releases or old favorites, and respond to each other. The perennial theme is fragrance, but we can interpret that broadly. This is meant to be a kind space, so please try not to give or take offense, and let’s all agree to disagree when opinions differ. In fragrance as in life, your mileage may vary! YMMV.

Today is Friday, June 23, and I am LATE! My apologies — I was handling a couple of complex issues at work and lost track of time.

This week marked the Summer Solstice in my part of the world, and the Winter Solstice in Portia’s! Crowds gathered at Stonehenge in England to celebrate — I wonder if there is any similar gathering in Australia? With summer in full swing now, I have summer flowers and scents on my mind. My vegetable garden is flourishing (famous last words — last summer, it became an inedible jungle) and I’ve been making a new recipe that uses up lots of fresh herbs: toasted gnocchi with herb brown butter. It has been fabulous, not least because it smells so good and makes the kitchen so fragrant. I may need to pull out some of my fragrances with strong herb notes like basil and rosemary.

Do you have any beloved fragrances with those kinds of herbal notes?

Bunches of fresh herbs
Assorted fresh herbs; image from foodwastefeast.com.
Counterpoint: Le Jardin de Monsieur Li
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Counterpoint: Le Jardin de Monsieur Li

Welcome to June’s installment of “Counterpoint”, a feature in which Portia of Australian Perfume Junkies and I exchange our thoughts on the same fragrance! This month’s featured fragrance is Le Jardin de Monsieur Li .

Bottle of Hermès fragrance Le Jardin de Monsieur Li
Le Jardin de Monsieur Li, by Hermès; image from Portia

Le Jardin de Monsieur Li is part of the “Jardin” series by Hermes, created by Jean-Claude Ellena. It was launched in 2015, and it is meant to evoke a Chinese garden, with notes of kumquat, bergamot, jasmine, mint, and green sap.

I believe this was the last of the “Jardin” fragrances create by M. Ellena while he was Hermès’ in-house chief perfumer. I love gardens, and I love the “Jardin” fragrances, each one inspired by a different garden. In the case of Le Jardin de Monsieur Li, Hermès says it is a garden “poised between reality and imagination”, but it reminds me of a real garden I visited the one time I have ever been to China. I had gone with my husband to Shanghai, where he had work for a week, and I was on my own to explore the city. I don’t speak Mandarin, but I taught myself a few phrases (“Excuse me”, “Please”, and “Thank you”) and the Shanghai metro was very easy to navigate. High on my list of places to go was the Yuyuan Garden, built several hundred years ago during the Ming dynasty.

Yuyuan Garden in Shanghai
Yuyuan Garden; image from ChinaXianTour.com.

It is a remarkable place, five acres completely enclosed by ancient stone walls in the middle of a bustling part of Shanghai where the Old City has been engulfed by the modern metropolis. The garden is divided into six main areas with different themes and purposes; parts of the garden and its structures were used for performances, for example. It has water features and a large koi pond, and amazing stone work in addition to several rockeries. Some of the most striking elements are the “dragon walls” that divide the garden; the walls are built to look like the undulating back of a long dragon, and they end with a dragon’s head! The garden’s name means pleasing and satisfying, and it was created as a tranquil haven for an important Chinese official’s parents by their dutiful son.

Dragon wall in China's Yuyuan Garden
Dragon wall in Yuyuan Garden; image from treetreats.wordpress.com

Upon entering the garden after leaving the modern metro, one may experience a quick, delighted intake of breath, and I had the same reaction to Le Jardin de Monsieur Li. It is at once citrusy, aromatic, and floral – a perfect summer fragrance.

  1. How did you first encounter Le Jardin de Monsieur Li, and what was your first impression?

Portia: As soon as Monsieur Li came out I wanted to get some on my skin. The Jardin range is some of Jean Claude Ellena’s best work (in my opinion anyway) and I’m yet to find one that disappoints. Sydney gets things later than the world but luckily Jin and I were in Tokyo and we hunted it down at a department store Hermès counter. Mint is one of my favourite notes in fragrance and so I was immediately smitten. Jin bought me a set with shower gel and lotion in the most fabulous box. So not only is Monsieur Li lovely but it has an excellent scent memory to match.

Old Herbaceous: I first encountered it when I “met” the other Jardin fragrances. It launched at about the same time that I went completely down the perfume rabbithole, in 2015 (the same year I started this blog to record my impressions and experiences). My late mother had sent me a generous birthday check, and I discovered that a certain discounter website had all five of the original Jardin fragrances for very affordable prices, so I used her gift to buy myself the whole set (I have a thing for complete sets), having become intrigued by reading Chandler Burr’s book The Perfect Scent, which included his account of how M. Ellena created Un Jardin Sur le Nil.

I think my first impression of Monsieur Li was colored by how much I love Un Jardin Après la Mousson and Sur le Nil. I didn’t pay as much attention to it. Once I really tried it and focused on it, I found Monsieur Li to be just as rewarding as those favorites, though they still “outrank” it.

2. How would you describe the development of Le Jardin de Monsieur Li?

Old Herbaceous: The citrus notes in the opening are refreshing with that slight bitterness, like the grapefruit accord that M. Ellena uses so often. They are quickly joined by the jasmine, but this is a light, fresh jasmine, not the heavy narcotic white flower smell often associated with that accord. To me, it smells like jasmine polyanthum, a lovely pinkish white jasmine vine that is often grown indoors as a houseplant.

I smell a touch of mint, which adds to the freshness of the scent and lends it a tinge of green. As some of you know, I do love my strong green fragrances; this is not a strong green fragrance at all, but it has just enough greenness to appeal to me. As it dries down, the citrus notes slowly recede, as they usually do, but they linger enough to maintain the aromatic aura of this summer floral. The final stage is lightly musky, but I can still smell jasmine and mint, so it has a lovely, soft finish.

Portia: Before we get to spritzing I’d like to say how much I love the feel of these bottles. The glass is so smooth it’s like fabric. It’s hefty without being heavy and fits my hand like it was made just for me. Already I’m feeling good. I rather like the way JCE thinks:

“I remembered the smell of ponds, the smell of jasmine, the smell of wet stones, of plum trees, kumquats and giant bamboos. It was all there, and in the ponds, there were even carp steadily working towards their hundredth birthdays.” Jean-Claude Ellena

It’s like he has translated these memories perfectly into scent.

Hermès gives these featured accordsL Sambac Jasmine, Kumquat, Bergamot

Water, shade, greenery gowing in a glasshouse. A terrarium. Yes, I smell sparkling and pithy citrus, some vegetal musks, clear and clean white florals. It might have been suggestion but I also smell broken bamboo, that weird dry/torn/sappy/sweet/coldness that the smell evokes in my mind. I also smell bittersweet citrus juice. The heart moves on and gives me peony and waterfalls over the top and some non-citrus fruit but I can’t pinpoint it. Maybe even berries? Later the vegetal musks seem to mix with some resins, I want to say elemi but really it’s just a feeling more that a scent association.

That’s the fireworks of open and heart. As Monsieur Li heads towards dry down the vegetal musks and resins with an overlay of cut green oranges continues quietly but pervasively for hours. Towards the end I even smell something vanilla-ish. It melds with my skin but makes it smell 100x better than it ever has.

It’s not weird or big or crazy. It definitely has a softer amount of that JCE Jardin oily sweetness undercut by water and greenery. Monsieur Li  is surprisingly long lasting on my skin too

3. Do you or will you wear Le Jardin de Monsieur Li regularly? For what occasions or seasons?

Portia: Yes, I wear Monsieur Li regularly. Though regularly means monthly rather than weekly. It works best for me when there is at least dappled sunshine. The temperature is not so important but I always feel really alive when wearing it in the sun. 

Though it fits perfectly in most occasions I particularly love it when smelling good but not overwhelming is the job of the day. Perfect for food, movies, travel or anything up close. Also excellent as a bed time calming or early morning get me revved for the day spritz. So versatile.

Monsieur Li is surprisingly long lasting on my skin too 

Old Herbaceous: I don’t wear it regularly, but I really should! It is especially appealing as a summer fragrance, though I would happily wear it during the spring and really any time I want a fresh cologne-type scent. I think it would partner beautifully with a guest’s summer wedding outfit, for any gender.

4. Who should/could wear Le Jardin de Monsieur Li ?

Old Herbaceous: This is a truly unisex scent, in my view. It has just the right combination of citrus, aromatic, and floral notes to balance between the traditionally feminine and masculine. When I was growing up, in a preppy part of New England, men often wore ties made of Liberty Tana Lawn floral fabric to summer parties and weddings, with lightweight suits; Le Jardin de Monsieur Li  would go wonderfully with those.

Portia: Monsieur Li  will probably be a bit low key for most hard core perfumistas. Their perfume wardrobes probably have enough cologne style fragrances.

Mint and aquatic are both also a no-go space for a lot of people. What I would say to anyone afraid of spritzing is that here the citrus and green notes are king. Though mint and water are present and noticeable the way that JCE has made this perfume could be a gateway for you. 

Definitely unisex, its longevity means you can wear it to work and still have remnants left at the end of the day. It is also the sort of low key beauty that any non perfumista who wants to smell good as part of being dressed well could wear year round. I’ve not given it as a gift but thinking about that now it would be a perfect non confronting, wearable, elegant selection. That it has bath products that match make it even more alluring.

I’m also thinking that for someone who wants to define their leisure time with scent, Monsieur Li would be a beautiful, laid back, pared back signature. A gentle waft of freedom.

Bottles of Hermès "Jaradin" fragrances
Hermès’ “Jardin” series of fragrances; image from hermes.com

Have you tried Le Jardin de Monsieur Li? Thoughts? Also, I can’t omit mention of Sarah McCartney’s wonderful riff on it: 4160 Tuesdays’ Le Jardin de Monsieur McGregor, another garden scent I love very much! And its name makes me smile.

Do you have any requests for an upcoming Counterpoint fragrance? The only limitation is that it must be one Portia and I both possess or can sample. Suggestions are welcome!

Counter/Point, a monthly blog collaboration
Perfume Chat Room, May 19
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Perfume Chat Room, May 19

Welcome to the weekly Perfume Chat Room, perfumistas! I envision this chat room as a weekly drop-in spot online, where readers may ask questions, suggest fragrances, tell others their SOTD, comment on new releases or old favorites, and respond to each other. The perennial theme is fragrance, but we can interpret that broadly. This is meant to be a kind space, so please try not to give or take offense, and let’s all agree to disagree when opinions differ. In fragrance as in life, your mileage may vary! YMMV.

Today is Friday, May 19, and we are back from our Bermuda holiday. Sigh. It was so beautiful and relaxing. Luckily, I had the foresight to take yesterday and today off work also, so I can ease back into regular routines and hold on to some of the vacation vibe a bit longer.

Photo by Andrea Powell on Pexels.com

Last weekend, we had a fabulous visit to The Bermuda Perfumery in St. George, home of Lili Bermuda fragrances, and we had tea with our friends in their garden. The next day, Mother’s Day, I was served a lovely breakfast by my family and was “given” the Lili Bermuda fragrance I had chosen the day before: Bermudiana. I had tried Mary Celestia, whose back story intrigued me, but the fragrance wasn’t as interesting as the story, and it didn’t seem to last on my skin.

I was able to do more reading than usual on this holiday, and I read more of Bermuda’s early history. I had known before that it was first inhabited by English sailors whose ship, the Sea Venture, on its way to re-supply the struggling English settlement at Jamestown, Virginia, had been blown far off course by a hurricane and shipwrecked at Bermuda. Apparently the true story of this adventure provided Shakespeare with the inspiration for “The Tempest”. What I hadn’t fully realized before is just how desperate the conditions at Jamestown were, by contrast with the plentiful lushness, safety, and beauty of Bermuda. No wonder there were a few mutinous uprisings during the ten months that the crew and passengers of the Sea Venture were on Bermuda — many of them didn’t want to leave their newfound paradise for a settlement they already knew was in trouble — insufficient supplies, attacks from Native Americans, disease, etc.

On our way home, I picked up another Lili Bermuda fragrance in the duty-free shop: Pink. It is a very pretty floral, and I look forward to getting to know it better. I’m counting it as a supplemental Mother’s Day gift, lol! Speaking of Mother’s Day, I was very touched by the number of local people who wished me a happy Mother’s Day while just passing by on the lane that led to the beach. Bermudians are famous for their old-fashioned manners (you do NOT get on a bus or request help or information at a counter without first greeting the person with “Good morning”, or “Good afternoon”), but this was next-level courtesy.

I’m already planning some more “perfume tourism”; I will tag along with my husband on one of his work trips to London this fall, and we hope to take our family to France next summer, as a delayed graduation/anniversary trip (we were supposed to go in the summer of 2020). A new “Perfumer’s Garden” is about to open at Versailles, sponsored by Maison Francis Kurkdjian, and it looks gorgeous. Gardening AND fragrance — two of my loves, together!

Did you do anything special for Mother’s Day?

Counterpoint: Jean Patou’s Joy
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Counterpoint: Jean Patou’s Joy

Welcome to a monthly collaboration new for 2023! Portia Turbo of Australian Perfume Junkies and I had so much fun doing “Scent Semantics” with some other fragrance bloggers in 2022 that we decided to launch TWO regular features as a new collaboration this year. The first, which we plan to post on the first Monday of each month, is “Notes on Notes“, in which we choose one note and write about it however the spirit moves us; last month’s Note was on galbanum. This second feature is “Counterpoint“, in which we ask ourselves the same handful of questions about a single fragrance and post our separate thoughts on it, on the third Monday of each month. We’re still experimenting with format, so comments on that are welcome too!

This month’s Counterpoint fragrance is Jean Patou’s Joy (we shall ignore the imposter Dior launched in 2018 after acquiring the name and the brand). Jean Patou was one of the great designers and couturiers of pre World War 2 Europe, with his own couture house. Joy was launched in 1930 at the outset of the Great Depression, apparently so that M. Patou’s haute couture clients could still enjoy something created by him even if they couldn’t buy his dresses any more. The true creator, of course, was the perfumer; in this case, Henri Alméras.

Joy was famously promoted as the “costliest perfume in the world”, which was probably a marketing ploy but also reflected the high quality and cost of its ingredients, including absolutes made from jasmine and roses from Grasse. It was also meant to compete with Chanel No.5 as a luxury perfume. They share some qualities and notes, but each is distinct from the other, and instantly recognizable to many.

The fragrance "Joy" by Jean Patou
Jean Patou’s Joy; image from Portia at Australian Perfume Junkies

1. How did you first encounter Joy, and what was your first impression?

Old Herbaceous: I first tried Joy after I had gone down the rabbit-hole of this fragrance hobby. I knew it was one of the 20th century’s most legendary fragrances and that my perfume education would be incomplete if I didn’t try it. I found a tester of the eau de toilette at a very reasonable price, so I took the plunge and bought it blind.

My first impression was kind of “meh.” It was okay but I didn’t like it as much as the Chanels I already had, for example, or some of the more exciting new fragrances I was trying. It felt a bit old-fashioned, more than the Chanels did, and I couldn’t recognize its separate notes. As my nose became more educated, though, and I was trying more different kinds of fragrances, I came to like Joy better.

Portia: Honestly I have no memory of first smelling Joy by Patou. It seemed to be around in my childhood. It was definitely work by my Mum at some point and by various Aunts and friends Mums. There is no one specific image or memory I can conjure of my early encounters though. 

When I started buying vintages I was so unaware of exactly how it should smell I sent a couple of samples around the world for confirmation and bought samples from Posh Peasant for comparison. So I’m taking my first vintage splash bottle as if it was the first time I smelled it. The only memory I have of that was being overwhelmed by this extraordinary scent. Eye-rollingly gorgeous stuff, I think I bought about a dozen bottles so I’d never be without it again, mainly vintage parfums and a couple of those 45ml EdT or EdP.

2. How would you describe the development of Joy?

Portia: Today I’m wearing both the vintage EdP and vintage parfum. I’m not sure exactly the years but the picture might give you an idea.

Opening is sharp white flowers, aldehydes and a swirl of ylang. It’s rich, plush and sumptuous. I know Joy is supposed to be rose and white floweer but the roses take a far back seat on the bus for ages before they start to become a serious contender. Even when they do make their play it’s only as a backup not the main event.

What I do smell as we hit the heart is fruit. Not that modern super sweet candy-ised fruit but that vintage tinned fruit salad. Yeah, it’s sweet but more robust, less headache inducing.

There is also a lovely, stemmy green note that could be hyacinth and it borders on torn twig. It’s verdant but also bitter and gives a lovely counterpoint to the bouquet and fruit.

Hiding deep below is also a little growly tiger and breathy, sweet jasmine.

As the fragrance heads towards dry down, the woods and animalics become more pronounced. Not dirty or ass-ish but smoothly skin-like, me but so much better.

Old Herbaceous: The notes listed for the original Joy are: tuberose, rose, ylang-ylang, aldehydes, pear, and green notes. The heart notes include jasmine and iris root. The base has notes of musk, sandalwood, and, in the vintage, civet. The version I have is the eau de toilette and it dates to 2016. Fragrantica lists this version’s notes as: Top notes — Bulgarian Rose, Ylang-Ylang and Tuberose; middle notes — Jasmine and May Rose; base notes — Musk and Sandalwood.

I think there are still some aldehydes in the opening, even if no longer listed, to give it some lift. There’s a pleasant soapiness to Joy that I associate with aldehydes; and I think they are the cause of so many people feeling that Joy is old-fashioned. I smell the ylang-ylang more than I do the other floral top notes, and then the jasmine arrives. It isn’t overpowering but it is very evident, much more so than the rose notes. I don’t smell any iris, root or bloom, at all, so that may not have become part of the modern EDT. It’s not quite as abstract a flower as Chanel No.5, but it is in that same vein. Even in EDT format, Joy has good longevity and sillage. A little goes a long way, given how dominant jasmine is. The final stage of this modern Joy on my skin is all soft sandalwood and white musk, like expensive soap.

Jean Patou’s Joy eau de toilette

3. Do you or will you wear Joy regularly? For what occasions or seasons?

Old Herbaceous: I don’t think I’ll wear Joy regularly, but that’s mostly because I now have such a large collection of fragrances that there are only a few I would say I “wear regularly.” Joy definitely gets more love from me than it used to, and it’s in a convenient location, so I do reach for it occasionally. It’s great for church or the office, because if you don’t overspray, it’s quite subtle and ladylike. It’s one of those fragrances that doesn’t jump out at anyone, it just smells very nice. By the same token, if you want your fragrance to make more of an impression, Joy may not be the one to choose that day (or night), unless the parfum has more impact (I haven’t tried that version).

Portia: Joy is so fabulous but rarely gets the spritz, splash ot swipe here. Every so often I get out the Patou box and grab Joy. I’ll wear it and put it back. Then I won’t think of it for months. That doesn’t lessen my love for it but it seems to fit only rarely. 

I’m hoping that enjoying wearing it so much today and yesterday that it might inspire me to wear it more often.

4. Who should/could wear Joy?

Portia: Joy needs a certain amount of preparation if you’re not a regular wearer. It’s big, bold and makes a statement. It’s tenacity is also legendary, so you have to be ready to smell of this iconic beauty for at least half a day. Anyone who chooses Joy is choosing to smell of a fragrance that will not be easily available for us to buy when the bottle runs out. So they are wearing something precious and on it’s way to extinction. That alone tells you something of the wearer. Either they are so wealthy that they can stockpile or such a hedonist that wearing it to the dregs and enjoying every second is better than having it forever. No, I check myself. There are other reasons. Wearing it as a memory scent, to mark special occasions, as a lure or any number of wonderful reasons. 

Really though, anyone who wants to smell spectacular and relive the joy of wearing Joy by Patou before it’s gone forever.

Old Herbaceous: As always, I say anyone who wants to can wear Joy or any other fragrance! Joy does give off a certain demure, ladylike air, at least in EDT form, but that could be deployed to great effect if the wearer isn’t, in fact, demure, ladylike, or even a lady. For myself, I prefer some of the reissued “Collection Heritage” fragrances created by Thomas Fontaine when he was Jean Patou’s head perfumer, especially Chaldée and L’Heure Attendue.

If you want to experience this legendary fragrance, I recommend getting some soon. Dior’s Joy is a pallid successor at best, but all the Jean Patou fragrances are now out of production, since LVMH bought the brand (to the howls of the faithful) and changed its name to just “Patou”. The fragrances are still widely available online and I’m told that Joy was so popular among ladies of my mother’s generation and even beyond that it is often found at estate sales. In fact, when a FiFi award was given in 2000 to the “perfume of the century”, it was given to Joy and NOT to its competitor No.5. So now really is the time to get yourself this small exemplar of 20th century fashion and creativity. I’ll be keeping my eye out for vintage parfum, since that’s the version that has gotten the most rave reviews (including from Luca Turin, who gave it his rare five-star rating) and that Portia finds so alluring.

Have you experienced Joy? What did you think? Has your opinion changed over time, as mine did?

Counter/Point, a monthly blog collaboration
Perfume Chat Room, March 24
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Perfume Chat Room, March 24

Welcome to the Friday Perfume Chat Room, perfumistas! I envision this chat room as a weekly drop-in spot online, where readers may ask questions, suggest fragrances, tell others their SOTD, comment on new releases or old favorites, and respond to each other. The perennial theme is fragrance, but we can interpret that broadly. This is meant to be a kind space, so please try not to give or take offense, and let’s all agree to disagree when opinions differ. In fragrance as in life, your mileage may vary! YMMV.

Today is Friday, March 24, and Spring has sprung! We’ve gone in just a couple of days from temps below freezing at night, back to sunny and in the 70s. The pollen is flying everywhere leaving yellow dust in its wake and all over cars. All over everything, actually. Thank goodness for non-drowsy antihistamines!

I still have daffodils, azaleas, and dogwoods in bloom, and one rose bush that has started blooming its head off. In honor of William Morris’ birthday today, NST’s community project is to wear a scent that can be matched with anything to do with him — his art, his designs, his books and poems — whatever. I love William Morris designs, so I matched one of my favorites (actually designed for him by J.H. Dearle) called “Daffodil” with my beloved Ostara, by Penhaligon.

Drawn design for fabric with daffodils
Design for “Daffodil” by JH Dearle for William Morris & Co.; image from the William Morris Gallery.

All the spring scents are jumbled together outside in a charming melange that includes grass, flowers, trees, dirt, and rain. My poor vegetable garden froze solid back in December. I didn’t bother replanting winter vegetables, I just spread more compost so it could “season” until the weather is warm enough to plant again, and the compost is adding to the mix of smells.

Portia and I have decided we will just wait until April to resume our “Notes on Notes” and “Counterpoint” collaborations, since we were both traveling a lot in March. We’ve got some great material to discuss! If you want to suggest 1) fragrance notes; or 2) specific fragrances that you’d like us to tackle, please let us know in the comments!

And for those in the Northern Hemisphere, happy Spring!