Clouds Of Lavender

I'm in my calm era. Kind of.

I have an emotional connection to lavender. For one thing, it eases my neurotic, natural-fibre loving brain to know that the various lavender sachets I’ve collected over the years are working overtime to protect the silk skirts and cashmere sweaters I have painstakingly thrifted and then stuffed into my wardrobe. Apparently, moths hate the dried flowers.

It also reminds me of my time living in London, on the evenings when I would walk to my local Tesco. One of my neighbours had an overgrowth of lavender spewing over the low stone wall that surrounded their garden, and as I walked by I would always pinch a blossom for the journey. I’m sorry for the botanical thievery, but rubbing the buds between my thumb and forefinger and then deeply inhaling was therapeutic during a time when most of my days and nights were wracked with stereotypical 20-something chaos.

The older I get, the more I see that lavender is a complex little lady. For some, she stirs up images of crunchy ‘90s spas and wicker gift baskets loaded with potpourri and bath oil beads. But lavender is dignified and multifaceted. Jicky—the first abstract (i.e. multi-note) fragrance and the oldest continuously produced scent in the world—is a beautiful androgynous love letter to lavender’s power. Launched by Guerlain in 1889, it uses a hefty dose of summer-harvested French lavender alongside fresh mint and citrus and an amber-y, vanilla base to create an alluring, unisex scent that has lingered in perfumery for over 130 years. It brings to mind an elegant, playful, modern shadow dashing into the new century and beyond.

When I first smelled Celine’s Rimbaud, I thought of Jicky. Despite the fact that Arthur Rimbaud passed away eight years before Jicky’s launch, it feels like an apt scent for the well-traveled, absinthe-soaked libertine. Rimbaud (the scent, not the man) is a bright, optimistic poem of a perfume, inspired by a portrait of a messy-haired 17 year-old Arthur that designer Hedi Slimane discovered as a teen.

Young Rimbaud, probably not thinking about perfume

Noble lavender plays with orris butter (drooling!), neroli, musk, and vanilla, with a wheat accord that makes you feel like you’ve just rolled in the hay. Uh, literally. The sun beams down on your clean, freckled face. Everything is touched by light, for now.

Whispers online say the scent is being discontinued, but as of right now it’s still available to order from Celine’s Canadian website, so take that information with a grain of salt. I initially fell in love with Rimbaud through a sample I was given at Harrods last year, and the false (?) alarm of the scent possibly being taken off the market prompted me to order a travel size.

Precious cargo - maybe someday I’ll buy an exorbitantly expensive Celine perfume case for it

I will admit, part of the reason I feel so attached to this perfume is because Arthur Rimbaud was, like me, a Libra. We have to stick together.

Also keeping me floating on a cloud of lavender is Maison D’Etto’s Noisette. Named after a horse (not a hazelnut), Noisette shares a lot of DNA with Rimbaud. It’s a lush lavender-dosed fougère dotted with ambrette seed, white amber and magnolia flower to create a warm hug of a scent. Noisette is for wrapping yourself up in a line-dried cotton blanket, reading in a bay window and contemplating The Big Questions. It’s peaceful and cozy, yet powerful.

Maybe it’s maturity that has me reaching for these dignified scents. Maybe I just desperately need to chill out. Whatever it is, I’m more than happy to inhale all of the beauty and hope for serenity, now. Never again will I underestimate the power of a lavender bud.