Aromascope

Contributing Writer

Please welcome my third contributing writer, Donna Hathaway, known on perfume blogs as “Flora”. Donna will be exploring the floral theme, and I’m very happy to have her on board! She’s published a few pieces in the horticultural field, is a lifelong gardener (something I will never be), and fragrance is at the top of her list when selecting flowers for her garden. Please read her wonderful post on lilies below.

Add comment March 20th, 2007

Left At The Altar - Again?

I have always loved flowers and fragrance, but I did not know what I was missing until I discovered the lily. Everyone knows the Easter lily and its subtle fresh fragrance, but once I discovered that there were other lilies in the world that were much more powerfully fragrant, I was hooked for life. I grow them, I buy them at the florist in the off-season, and I keep at least one lily fragrance in my possession at all times. When I need my lily “fix” nothing else will quite do.

The lily most commonly used in perfumery is called the White Lily; its botanical name is Lilium candidum, the Madonna Lily, native to Asia Minor and the Middle East. This astonishingly white flower looks like it is carved from alabaster, and its complex fragrance is a blend of high, pure cool notes and indolic undertones that are almost foxy in their intensity. One either loves it, as I do, or cannot bear to be near it; there is rarely any in-between. Other lilies are grown for their fragrance and beauty but not used commercially, as their essence is notoriously difficult to capture. The Oriental group, native to Japan, has some of the finest perfumes in the entire floral kingdom. In general, they are less indolic than the White Lily and have a gentle, sweet spiciness that is very pleasing. Others smell anywhere from musky and strange to unbelievably delicious, and some are scentless, though still beautiful.

My first lily perfume was the great Anaїs Anaїs by Cacharel, released in 1978, which I wore as a very young woman. This was even before I started growing lilies in my own garden, but I knew what I liked, and this lovely and ethereal green floral was the best thing I had ever smelled. This is most commonly seen as an Eau de Toilette now, but what is not so well known is that it was once available in a far broader range than it is today. On one end of the spectrum was the Parfum, which I had, and it was just sublime. It was less green than the EDP or EDT and had a softness and purity to it that was mesmerizing. I think it as the most feminine perfume I have ever experienced. There was also a masterpiece of a bath oil, completely opposite to the Parfum in character, which brought out the sexy side of this fragrance. I would wear this as a perfume in tiny amounts when I went out in the evening when I got a little older. It highlighted the lily, hyacinth and honeysuckle in the composition, and you could really get the woods and oakmoss too. When that was discontinued, I hoarded my bottle of it for years, using it only for special occasions.

I lost a lot of interest in Anaїs Anaїs after I could only get the EDT, and the EDP is rarely seen now as well. It’s a shame, because this fragrance was really one of the finest fragrances of its time. I felt that Cacharel had abandoned the true aficionados of this perfume.

Some time later I discovered Alpine Lily by Crown Perfumery. I don’t know whether this one had any actual lily in it or not; I believe it had a generous dose of Lily-of-the-valley as the majority of its composition, but it was no less lovely for it. It was airy and luminous and simple, and smelled like a meadow in the spring. I adored it. Alas, my affair with this fragrance was cut short. The Crown company was bought out a few years ago and was reincarnated as the Clive Christian company, purveyor of overpriced (and in my opinion, overrated) perfumes aimed at the super rich among us, and all the Crown creations were no more. I have not forgiven Clive Christian for this, nor am I likely to do so in the near future. I did not have a lily perfume again for several years. I was left without my obsession once again.

So what does one do when bereft of a lily scent to own and enjoy? In my case, I happened to start reading perfume blogs such as this one, and everyone was talking about Serge Lutens, and a fragrance called Un Lys. Could this be the one I was looking for? I read all I could find about the company, as I had never heard of it before, and it all sounded wonderful. I discovered that my local perfume boutique had just started carrying the full line. Off I went, and I fell in love instantly. Not just with Un Lys, but with virtually the whole lineup. I was astonished at the superb quality and originality I found. But it was indeed Un Lys that won me over, with its frigid heart of purest lily essence, hiding a sensuality that turns into something just a little dangerous on the skin. It is the White Lily brought to vivid life as in nothing else I have ever smelled. Now, of course, the company has decided that Un Lys belongs in the Exclusive Range, and it is no longer sold outside of the Palais Royale du Shiseido in Paris. I have about half a bottle right now, and it is reserved for very special occasions. Once again I will have to find a lily perfume to call my own. I will forgive Serge Lutens for this someday, since the other fragrances are so good, but why did they take it away? I am jilted once again!

So I am looking for another candidate for my lily romance, and so far the best one is Antica Farmacista’s Casablanca Lily, which is a remarkable rendition of the famous white Oriental lily beloved by florists and brides alike the world over. This is achieved by the addition of the spice clove to the formula, which warms the chill of the lily to make it more like its namesake flower than the glacial White Lily. Ylang ylang keeps it sweet and approachable. As a bonus, this is available as a home fragrance and a bath and body range as well, like many Antica Farmacista fragrances. I am almost afraid to buy it, as I almost surely will when my beloved Un Lys is finally gone. What if it abandons me like all the others? It would be easier to be in love with Chanel No. 5 or Shalimar to guarantee that I will always be able to get more, but I always did fall in love with the one I could never have. Why should it be any different with perfume?

Image source: 3-D effect photograph copyright 2007 by K. Mingl, used with permission.

18 comments March 20th, 2007