Lemon flower and fruit
It's been a very busy week around here. I had a project due for a client that involved a lot of statistical research, which is not really my thing. Looking through research and data online, I became easily distracted. I'm disciplined enough not to drift into shoe/handbag/sunglass shopping but blur the work/play line when I find some really fascinating stuff that I just had to stop and read. Like this fascinating article 'Where do Eels Come From?' And just the other day, I found a study on 'The Role of Odor-Evoked Memory in Psychological and Physiological Health.' This is a kind of research, isn't it? You see the problem, right? Buckling down got the project done and it was easier with the help of Fleurs de Citronnier by Serge Lutens.
Let me explain. That article on odor-evoked memory and psychological health got me thinking:
'…when odors are capable of eliciting emotional and physical changes it is due to the emotions, memories and associations that have been linked to an odor through past personal experiences, which are then elicited when the odor is encountered, and the psychological and physiological responses connected to the odor are recapitulated'.
This explains why lemon-based fragrances lift my mood, energize me and just brighten my day. Lemons unlock all my favourite childhood summer memories. Lemons, the colour of the sun, are forever linked to memories of hot, school-free days spent playing outside with my best friends until I got hungry and went home for dinner. To this day, the tart, sour fragrance of lemon, pull me back through time to the first time I held a glass of lemonade by all by myself. Was I three-years-old? Older? Younger? My mother coaching me: 'OK, sweetheart, the glass is wet and slippery, so hold it with both hands….' The slipperiness and the weight caught me by surprise, and I faltered for a moment, but I didn't drop the glass. Writing about it here, I can taste that lemonade now – cold, tart, sweet, delicious, reviving. I thought I had drunk a magic potion. Lemons make me happy in any form: food, drink and especially fragrances, like Fleurs de Citronnier.
'Fleurs de Citronnier' translates into 'lemon blossoms,' and they are the main attraction in this eau de parfum, which opens a note of bitter, citrusy, green citronnier petitgrain – the kind made from the leaves of lemon trees. As it settles, the lemon blossom appears, its delicate beauty is transparent but tenacious, and it stays right through to the drydown. Citrusy neroli bolsters the lemon blossom with its green and orange facets. Soon they are joined by a lush, indolic note of tuberose; its' sensuality countering the purity of the lemon blossoms. A note of honey keeps the tuberose in check, while iris rounds out the flowers. Around this time, the fragrance smells clean. On me, it's not soapy-smelling clean as much as it is fresh-smelling. This is when I realize how simple and uncluttered with heady, heavy notes Fleurs de Citronnier is. At the base, there is a touch of warmth from nutmeg, while styrax gives it a dry, subtle woodiness and musks smooth it out.
The drydown is delicate, floral and fresh. But its beauty lies in its simplicity and transparency. It's structured to allow every note to shine without any of them outshining the lemon blossom. It's the smell of a neighbour's summer garden caught in a breeze drifting over into your backyard.
Fleurs de Citronnier brings the summer back to me and somehow revitalizes my saggy spirit. It certainly helped that little research job get done on time.
Fleurs de Citronnier is listed in our Decant Store. Decants are $7.00 for 1 ml.
Image - Wikipedia - by Elena Chochkova, November 25, 2007