The government might have whispered that pubs will open, but for all intents and purposes, summer is cancelled. Sorry, but lidos will remain covered, and rooftop bars closed. Boots will be avoided at all costs, for fear that the aisle of minis will stir memories of giddy pre-holiday toiletry shops. But let’s not dwell on it, and instead reframe summer so that we’re still effervescent at the thought. The long days, and light evenings are still ours. Soggy fruit bobbing in syrupy Pimms, considerably less clothes and fiery flings still permissible (if you’re single, anyway.) And so why not honour this, The Summer Like No Other, with a new scent? One that when this is all over, will remind you that you had a wild and magical time, and you didn’t haven’t to get on a single budget aeroplane.
This is supposed to capture the olfactive lifecycle of a rose. The earthy, woody notes of initial growth; the spurting freshness of the green, and then, the main event.
For Byredo devotees, but this has the wild and wandering spirit of Gypsy Waster, and the headiness of Rose No Man’s Land, and to those it adds, vanilla and casis. Delicious.
The hazy candyfloss skied bottle is delicious. The juice inside even more so. It reminds me – hear me out – of a grown-up version of Britney Spears' Curious. Of course, as girls grew, tastes changed, but you’d struggle to find a former wearer who wouldn’t inhale it with delight now. And yes, I rest my case.
If you too would like to qualify for a bo-ho Spandaird, may we suggest changing into something white and wafty before spraying this. With patchouli and fresh coconut water, Ibiza is but a sniff away.
Lots of perfumes vye for ‘summer in a bottle’ status, but this takes it. Even on a grisly day in Hackney, it’s citrus spirit puts a spring in your step.
A rambunctious scent if ever there was one, full of berries and blackcurrants, and tempered with wood and patchouli. And it looks pretty lovely, too.
It’s rich and opulent but not in a showy way. And despite being stuffed with flowers – orange blossom, tuberose, jasmine sambac, tuberose, and musk – it somehow dries down to something not floral at all.