Perfume insiders have long claimed that so-called “green” scents are the hardest to sell. In the context of current popular appetite for “oud” inspired fragrances, fruity-forward scents, bombastic amber woods juices, “beast mode” trails or gourmand concoctions, green scents have not found, in the 21st century, an easy audience. This “green is last” trend is something which was emphasized again at Esxence 2024 a few weeks ago. (see my recent article on Esxence: https://www.pixidisperfumes.com/wp-admin/post.php?post=960&action=edit). After a brief return to favour during the Covid pandemic (2020-2021 mainly), as people dreamed of verdant notes to escape from the drudgery of being locked up for weeks on end, it is now back to normal for green notes, i.e at the back of the line in terms of olfactive preferences.
Who am I to argue, as they say in French, “les goûts et les couleurs ne se discutent pas”, tastes and preferences are a matter of personal opinion. But, as someone who loves green scents, this state of affairs has always left me slightly baffled. What’s so challenging about them? Is it the common absence of sweetness? Are they too “natural” smelling, too bitter? First of all, what do people mean when they talk about green scents? Do they mean refreshing aromatic perfumes full of herbs such as mint and basil? Do they think of spring-evoking green florals such as hyacinth and lily-of-the valley? Dark mossy chypres or do they just refer to “freshly mown grass ” type of odor?
My understanding from perfume school is that “green” is not an actual perfume “family” (i.e. category) in and of itself but rather a facet (i.e. a subcategory if you will), and that it is generally accepted (although all is up for debate in perfumery) that there are only seven fragrance families: citrus, fruity, floral, fougère, chypre, woody and ambery (ex “oriental”) – a much debated term but we will save that discussion for another day.
Although the green facet can apply to numerous families, for instance, you could have a floral scent with a green facet (think of most lily-of-the-valley scents such as Diorissimo, etc.) or indeed an aromatic scent with a green bent, (think of Herba Fresca by Guerlain), I think what I have in mind in terms of “green perfumes” are those that best translate the outdoorsy, “meadow in a storm” feel of nature in spring. So yes, there is a certain bitterness that is intrinsic to green smells, although arguably grass has also a sweet facet.
What’s the appeal? Green scents, for me, often provide a cooling and a calming sensation, a sort of “olfactive meditation” like going for a solitary long walk outside to clear’s one head, surrounded by the smell of grass, leaves, shrubs, wet earth, moss and soil. Where is the challenge in that?
Well, let’s look at how they are composed first to try to understand green scents.
Paradoxically, if I put my apprentice perfumer’s hat on, not a lot of natural raw materials can be used to create green accords, so the perfumer often has so rely on synthetic molecules to create a green effect. Among the few natural raw materials in the perfumer’s palette, the most notable one is Galbanum, a gum resin traditionally cultivated in Iran and that has a fresh green bean/green pea smell and is intensely bitter and green. It is a common trope that although this note is popular with perfumers it is often very unpopular with the general public, limiting its use in commercial perfumery. Lentiscus Absolute (also called mastic) is another adjacent natural green raw material that can be used in combination with galbanum or as a replacement to give the perfume a more modern twist.
Violet leaf absolute is another natural raw material that is available to the perfumer but although it is classified as green, and, unlike the name suggests, bears little resemblance in terms of scent profile to the flower, for me, with its strong cucumber note, it is mainly watery rather than green.
There are other natural raw materials that have a green facet although they are not strictly speaking classified as green material such as blackcurrant bud absolute (a fruity note with an astringent green twist) or Angelica roots essential oil which is classifies as a herbal note but has a green medicinal facet.
Then there are of course a lot synthetic molecules that are used to create green accords, first and foremost, styrallyl acetate (which most people associate with the smell of rhurbarb, and has been used for instance in Synthetic Jungle by EdPFM) and Triplal or Cis 3 Hexenol (both with an intense green grass smell, the first being more “metallic” than the second).
These are just some of the main materials that are used to create a green accord but they then need to be associated with other notes to create a perfume.. Before giving you a count-down of some of my favorite green scent and a sort of break-down of the various “directions” green can take, I just wanted to say a few words about my quest for green.
Reading reviews or listen to online critics claim this or that scent as “super green” always makes my heart skip a beat: yes, finally a green scent that could satisfy my quest for the vibrant bitter smell of spring.
And then, invariably, they fail to live up to my expectation, probably because the perfumers composing the scents generally try to balance the composition and curb the bitter greenness with other “softer” notes (Green Spell by Eris, I’m looking at you!).
For me, green scents are also somewhat symbolic of feminism, or rather female empowerment, as well as hope and optimism. This could be due to the fact that one of the ultimate green scents, the discontinued Vent Vert by Balmain, was created in 1947 by genius perfumer Germaine Cellier, who was one of the first women perfumers in an industry targeting mainly women but managed almost exclusively by men!
It could also be due to the easy association of green scents with the 70s, “the” green chypre decade, a time when women’s access to the job market became easier, in part due to the availability of the contraceptive pill, creating a wind of change which translated, at least that’s my interpretation, into a wave of green scents. By the way, also interesting to note that the green chypre decade was launched in 1966 by another women’s composition, Josephine Catapano’s Fidji by Guy Laroche.
Aside from its symbolism and the linage of the first green scent being “birthed” by a woman, for me green perfumes are mainly an olfactive mediation, a solitary retreat, a “me time” scent. How can this not be popular?
Recently, courtesy of my kids, I watched an episode or two of “Hot Ones”, the TV contest where hapless celebrity participants are asked to eat gradually hotter and hotter pimento-soaked chicken wings while answering the host’s questions… (I know, I know, what can I say?). I’m ashamed to confess, it’s strangely addictive.
So what I suggest here, is a similar concept: a selection of daredevil green scents presented on an ascending scale of greeness, offering a gradual easing into verdant territory…
- Let’s start with some easy-going greens: “spring aromatic greens”.
Not much of challenge I should think, the mild entry level options for those not accustomed to green scents.
Herba Fresca by Guerlain and l’Eau de Campagne, by Sisley. The oldest is “Eau de Campagne,” (JC Ellena, again) from the 70s and the one that I reach for the least. Although based around the inviting concept of a herb and vegetable summer garden (think sweet basil and tomato-leaf), I find it a bit too powdery and elderly gentleman’s cologne-like, but a classic none-the-less. By comparison, Herba Fresca, created by Mathilde Laurent, is neon green with a pronounced zingy mint note like a florescent mojito, refreshing and cooling without ever veering into toothpaste territory.
- Then, moving from herbal cologne style to green floral (chypre) scents, we are now firmly in springtime territory.
Think gardens in April, white (non-narcotic) flowers (lilly of the valley and Hyacinth come to mind), accompanied by verdant notes such as Galbanum and grass notes.
The king of them all is the now discontinued Vent Vert by Balmain. I think the main distinctive feature being the enormous dose of galbanum it contained (allegedly 8%!). Vent vert really created the green facet and was the inspiration for many scents that followed, from Fidji by Guy Laroche, to Chanel’s N. 19, etc.
So let’s look at a few of them:
– Fidji, Guy Laroche, by Josephine Catapano. Created in 1966, it was a personal favorite of mine when I was a teenager and is often overlooked by those examining vintage creations. Still in production today (although I must confess I don’t know what shape it is in now…), it offers the typical blend of while florals on a woody-mossy base. It is an important scent, influenced also by Nina Ricci L’Air du Temps’ floral bouquet but modernized for the 70s and made greener.
-Diorissimo, Dior, by Edmond Roudniska. Needs no introduction. An ode to the muguet flower, the lucky charm of Mr. Dior and the symbol of spring par excellence.
– Week end a Deauville (now renamed, “Weekend in Normandy”, could it be that Chanel made de Nicolai change the name because of its own perfume called Paris-Deauville? Mystery…) by Patricia de Nicolaï. It’s a kissing cousin to Chanel’s Cristalle but I have to admit I find it oddly dated. In general, I find that de Nicolaï delivers beautiful scents but done in a very traditional composition style.
-N.19. 19 EDT, Chanel, by Henri Robert (Galbanum, Hyacinth, Rose, lilly-of-the-valley, jasmin, ylang, iris and vetiver). N. 19 also shares this mix of floral notes but is more iris and galbanum focused compared to the others, resulting in a powderier and somewhat more strident scent.
They all have this bracing green floral effect that immediately makes you think of spring, green stems and fresh air, and a strong galbanum note.
3. Moving on to fruity greens, the summery take on this facet if you will.
I feel this is the category that still manages to garner some support with modern customers, as green notes are tempered with crunchy fruit accords (apple and pear) and water-based fruits such as melon or lichee, or tropical fruit like guava and finally “sticky” sweet fruits such as figs. They generally still contain some of the same floral elements of the previous category (hyacinth, muguet and rose) but with an added fruity note. I think nowadays, Antoine Lie and Anne Flipo are the king and queen of this category, with respectively, to name a few, Synthetic Jungle by EdPFM (Anne Flipo), Green Spell by Eris Parfum (Antoine Lie), Aphelie by Trudon (Antoine Lie).
Sometimes fruity greens take a rather odd bent, like with Panorama by Olfactive Studio created by Clement Gavarry. I mean, it’s a strange scent, flirting with aquatic notes and emanating an odd fluorescent aura of overripe melon. It’s like a green scent developed by HAL; the computer from Kubrick’s “2001 Space Odyssey”. Quite menacing really, at least to me. I think, objectively, all these scents feel more modern than the straight out-and-out green floral scents mentioned previously and more wearable.
- Finally, to close the year’s selection, for colder months there are the oriental /ambery green perfumes, as well as leathery greens, certainly the most challenging scents.
These contain some similar elements to the previous categories (galbanum, spring florals, woods and moss) but I separate them due to their ambery (or leathery) component. I mean, green and amber are an odd mix in a way, because green notes are generally the polar opposite of ambery ones.
Oriental green scents:
Vol de nuit, Guerlain by Jacques Guerlain
Black Narcissus, aka famous blogger and author Neil Chapman, has written the most beautiful piece about Vol de Nuit on his blog, which I urge you to read, so there is not much left to say. Suffice to mention that the scent perfectly translates in olfactive form the novel (Vol de Nuit by Antoine de Saint Exupery) that inspired its creation and manages the no small feat of being both cold and green yet warm and ambery at the same time. A completely abstract composition yet entirely evocative of the world it conjures. Hard to wear if one is being honest but just beautiful in a way any real piece of art is.
Dryad, Papillon Perfumery, Liz Moores
The worthy successor of Vol de Nuit, Dryad leans into jonquille and moss territory and feels slightly less abstract than his predecessor. It’s as if Fabien, the pilot from the novel, finally managed to land his plane and is now stuck in a deep forest in spring, filled with yellow and indigo-tinged flowers on a bed of moss. A happier ending altogether!
Leather green scents:
Bel Respiro, Chanel
Finally, I have to close this selection with another green scent that is possibly hard to wear, the beautiful Bel Respiro from Chanel. Created in 2007 by Jacques Polge, it’s a wind-swept meadow on top of a cliff on chilly spring day in Normandy (the perfume is not inspired by that place, but I see the cliffs of Etretat when I wear it). You can almost smell the green grass undulating under a saline breeze that is both invigorating and slightly scary. An underlining leather note further emphasizes the outdoorsy feel of the perfume, as if the person in this imaginary landscape had been horse-back riding to get to the cliff’s edge. There is a clear element of danger and unpredictability. So the opposite of a friendly perfume. Moody and beautiful but strictly for the green afficionado.
I hope this article inspires you to give green scents a try, I wager there is one that could catch your heart!
