Although it’s been raining non-stop for nearly a month and really chilly, too, it’s almost June and Spring will be blossoming into Summer in no time. I didn’t want to let the moment pass to reflect some more on my adored lilacs. I wait for them all. year. long. Something about them sends me soaring into a reverie of nostalgia; of my own past and an imaginary one of what my mother’s and grandmothers’ Springtimes must have been like. It’s almost as if I start imagining vintage home movies in my head about how women in generations past felt about being feminine, being beautiful (?) or sultry (?) and how they would express it. I’m not exactly sure why this sort of thing takes me over every time I smell a lilac, but it does. I am immediately there in the back yard of my childhood, smelling the lilacs that my mother and grandmother had also enjoyed. i think of them in the fashions of their era, with their hair and make up done, in fresh Spring dresses with a soft breeze blowing. It’s incredibly romantic. And elusive, like the fleeting nature of the lilacs themselves. I feel like I can never be like them but I can surely admire them. Maybe that is why I am such an avid admirer of the lilac.
That sense of nostalgia doesn’t stop with just the fresh lilacs in bloom around my yard and neighborhood. I have found that for many generations, the scent of lilacs have been the subject of many a historical perfume. Some rather famous in their day and important to the progression of the scent, in design terms. A couple of favorites of mine, from the early twentieth century are from the classic houses Houbigant, with “Le Temps des Lilas” (1921), and Coty with his “Lilas Blanc” (1910). And then a couple more, the mid-century beauties (both) “White Lilac” by Mary Chess (1930) and Dorothy Gray (1945). In the case of Dorothy Gray, White Lilac was among her most famous and best selling.
I didn’t get the chance to pull out the Mary Chess nor the Dorothy Gray from the ArtScent Museum‘s collection in storage but I did want to delve into the scent of the Coty “Lilas Blanc” since I have been thinking so much about the vintage styles of lilac perfumes while working with the fresh lilacs in bloom in the studio. It’s interesting to me that as I’ve been working on my newest lilac inspired fragrance, “La Belle Saison” (a soon to be released, all natural / botanical design) as opposed to last Spring’s “White Lilac” (a mixed media creation), it’s the all-botanical that has come into being as a somewhat vintage referencing design. Perhaps it’s that in the early 20th Century, the lilac-style molecules were less developed but I also think that perfume styles in general were more romantic and even with the soliflores, more impressionistic than realistic. There was a sense of what a perfume must be, design-wise, whereas now, a soliflore can be as realistic and straightforward – linear as you please. I don’t really think that was so back then. Whether it’s a stylistic choice or a refection of the constraint of the perfumer’s palette at the time, it’s true that most florals, even intended soliflores have a ‘bouquet’ quality about them.
ArtScent Museum’s “Lilas Blanc” de Coty, c.1920’s
Coty’s Lilas Blanc opens with a waft of soft green leaves and lemony nuances that give me an immediate impression of magnolia and hawthorn. Just beneath is a subtle layer of violety ionones adding to the fluffy powder impression that begins moments into the scent and continues well into the drydown. The heart begins to reveal the full bouquet concept notes of jasmine, heliotrope and clover emerge along with a rosey-honey-plummy-lilac accord that feels sweet, and rich but still quite soft and demure.
ArtScent Museum’s “Lilas Blanc” de Coty, c.1930’s
As the base note weighs in, the jasmine and heliotrope warm themselves against musk, civet, and powedery-woody vetiveryl acetate. The use of the acetate instead of the pure oil allows the soft fluffiness to continue instead of being pulled solidly into the earth. The acetate is more sheer and manageable when a light hand is needed. The very end drydown is soft, warm, and honey-floral-fuzzy, like the underside of a bumble bee.
There are nuances in Coty’s Lilas Blanc that very much remind me of vintage style apple blossom perfumes; of course because many of the same ingredients were used to create them and the overall fantasy of the “Spring Floral” has similar qualities to it. {Apple blossoms are another charmer for me and I have a thing for finding all kinds of vintage versions to compare). What I really found interesting is there is little evidence of the fruity nuances that are found in fresh lilac blossoms and in more modern perfume constructions.
There is definitely a romance to lilac perfumes, whether vintage or more modern in style. I’m having a ball chasing that chameleon around with my perfumer’s organ. And waxing poetic about one of the most beloved flowers. ox
Image credits: dreamy lilac shots by DSH, ArtScent Museum Lilas Blanc images by DSH, mary chess image found here; dorothy gray hand lotion image found here; dorothy gray summer splash image found on eBay.
DSH notebook 