When daffodils open and plum trees burst into bloom, I often reach for perfumes plump with hyacinth, lily of the valley, and narcissus. Guerlain Chamade, Annick Goutal Grand Amour, Parfums de Nicolaï Le Temps d’une Fête, and Christian Dior Diorissimo top the list. Something about their almost cartoonish opulence reflects the crazy blaze of flowers that splash in otherwise bleak streets this time of year.
But spring is about something else, too…
Blech. Despite being born a May baby, I have never been a fan of spring. I’m sure it’s different in the other parts of the world, but every year, people above the 39th parallel in Europe and North America stand on street corners at this time of year, leaning at a 75 degree angle into gusting drizzle, and insist: “It wasn’t like this last year!” Trust me, it was. The mud, the wind, the Easter snow or hailstorm, the false hope of that one giddy day near April Fool’s when the sun shone and the warm breezes blew, like in a laundry detergent commercial, before the rain and gray chill returned — it all happened last year. I am not a pessimist. It is merely that I believe in the motto of mothers everywhere: let’s not get worked up here. Crazed displays of Birkenstock sandals and patio furniture will only end in tears. I support measured celebrations of spring’s small pleasures. For one, it is ramp season. Perhaps you have received your tax return. The road salt has melted away and you can go to 2D movies without being subjected to aliens, robots or robotic aliens. And it is time for some of your freshest, prettiest, newest fragrances to grace the air.
Composing a Top 10 for this most uncertain of seasons, I have tried not to dwell on lost favorites or the flood of recent scents I’ve missed. Jean Patou Vacances, Gobin-Daudé Sève Exquise, and L’Artisan Jacinthe des Bois are all gone and it somehow felt irresponsible to include them in the list. I have vintage samples of the many spring classics that have been damaged or ruined by reformulation — Balmain Vent Vert, Caron Violette Précieuse, the silver fluidity of Diorissimo, the mysterious smoky-green of Worth Je Reviens, the original Dior Fahrenheit’s honeysuckle-and-wet-blacktop — and I use them sparingly and despairingly. I have not tried MDCI Un Coeur en Mai, Byredo La Tulipe, ElizabethW Magnolia or CB I Hate Perfume Wild Pansy and am trying to convince myself that I don’t need to do so. With no further excuses, my Top 10 of Spring…
Your host today is Owen, and Owen wants to talk about spring, and more specifically, spring fragrances: what are you buying, or planning to buy, for the coming spring? Which upcoming launches are you interested in smelling? And which of your fall and winter favorites will you miss when spring finally gets here?
If you haven’t met Owen, please say hello…
Spring! Finally. It isn’t summer, but it’s almost summer, and if, like me, you detest the cold, that’s very nearly the best thing about it. The absolute best thing, of course, is the flowers. My list is heavily weighted towards the “pretty floral” fragrance category, and it’s also heavily weighted towards niche, and expensive. Sorry, it just worked out that way. Hopefully, my fellow bloggers did a better job on the diversity front: see Bois de Jasmin, Grain de Musc, Perfume Posse and Perfume Smellin’ Things for more top 10 lists. Meantime, here’s mine:
CB I Hate Perfume Black March: the smell of spring, and the perfect thing to wear on a warm, rainy April day, although there’s something about it that can tend towards the melancholy. If you can’t afford it, you can make do with Demeter Dirt — someone called Black March the high def version of Dirt, and that’s apt…
When spring arrives, the black and white world of winter seems to turn technicolor in splotches. The ground is mostly barren, but a patch of lurid daffodils lights up a parking strip, and a tulip tree looks like it has burst into white flames against the grey sky. Even the singing birds sound ridiculously cheerful, like a Looney Tunes short come to life.
Of course, I love it. And mostly I like choosing perfumes for spring that make the same garish splash in the cool, damp air. But sometimes moodier fragrances that reflect the dirt’s slow awakening seem more appropriate. Here are my current favorites for spring, not in any particular order.
Amouage Ubar. Nothing says spring like lily of the valley — light, ethereal, and tinged with green. Unfortunately, when I wear Christian Dior Diorissimo, I feel like I’m wearing someone else’s clothing. It feels cold on me. Ubar, on the other hand, is loaded with lily of the valley and sunny jasmine, but has a warm grounding of sandalwood and civet. I’m hoarding the few drops I have left in my sample sprayer…