This year the company where I work decided to change the way we’re naming our regular releases from the previously numeric values (e.g., 2.718 or 3.14) to season names. It was March, and in most parts of the US it was still cold. So, a co-worker from Texas (where it was much warmer than elsewhere) who was responsible for collecting slides from everybody and putting together a presentation of the first “named” release – Spring 2021 – for other departments was quite enthusiastic, and his cover slide was slightly playful:
The presentation for the US-based teams went well. But then the APAC team insisted on having a separate session for them claiming that a recording wasn’t enough. It was very inconvenient for most presenters who live in the US, so the manager “volunteered” for that presentation a co-worker from Europe – as a more time-zone-wise-appropriate choice, especially since he was responsible for the feature that was expected to have the most questions. So, he listened to the recorded presentation we all did together, got the slides and confidently opened the presentation: Spring is here!
“Well… We all are in Australia…” interjected someone from the group.
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Had you asked me (or the co-worker who did the presentation) what season it was in Australia, we would have told you “autumn” – everyone knows that, right? But we know that Spring is warm, and Spring is green, having lived our whole lives in the northern hemisphere, instinctively, without pausing we think that March is Spring.
But I wouldn’t start theorizing about being self-centered or any type of bias. I think it is deeper. I remember how a couple of years ago, as Christmas was approaching, I thought that I felt sorry for Australians whose Christmas comes at the pick of summer: since traditionally this holiday is associated with winter and cold and snow – aren’t they missing on the true Christmas spirit?… And then I stopped myself: what am I talking about? How about us, in California? It is never cold here, it never snows – and still, it doesn’t prevent people here including me and my friends (who are not even Christian) from celebrating or feeling festive.
Same as we don’t have winter, we don’t really have Spring: weather doesn’t change much in March or April compared to, let’s say, a warm day in January or February. And still, every March my perfume wardrobe changes: I don’t want to wear my favorite ambers – instead, I crave green perfumes.
If you check Fragrantica, you’ll see how many different perfumes are classified as “green.” This Spring I went through my collection and chose seven to wear as my Green Week project.
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I do not wear Penhaligon’s Lily of the Valley too often, but every Spring it comes out for at least a day or two because it’s a perfect Spring perfume and a good representation of the flower.
One would argue that Chanel No 19 is seasonless. I wear it year-round, especially the EdP and extrait, but the EdT for me is a Spring perfume.
I’ve owned DSH Perfumes Vert Pour Madame for years but somehow I never wrote about it other than a couple of mentions. It is an amazing perfume! I rarely fall for indie perfumes. But Vert Pour Madame won me over many years ago, and every time I wear it, I think that Dawn got it just perfectly. I think of it as classic Miss Dior but greener.
Yves Rocher Nature has been with me for several decades. I told its story many years ago, and I still wear it every Spring.
Puredistance Antonia is a green-eyed beauty that I loved from the first time I tried it 10 years ago. I enjoy its sharp greenness and perfectly blended floral bouquet. When I finish the current bottle that I won many years ago in the brand’s competition, I will buy the newer packaging – a wonderful green bottle.
I’m not sure if Hiram Green’s Arbolé Arbolé is considered green perfume, but in my mind it is. Arbole Arbole one of just three all-natural perfumes in my collection, which says a lot. It is so unusual. It is herbal, somewhat medicinal, slightly sweet. I wouldn’t be able to wear it too often, but I’m glad I have it in my life, and I enjoy wearing it in Spring.
I bought a small decant of Amouage Myths Woman in a Facebook split because it wasn’t much more expensive compared to a sample. It was absolutely not what I expected, and the first time I tried it I even disliked it. But as I tested it more in a while, not remembering either my expectations or the previous reservations, I liked it more and more each time. Myths is quite cheerful, which isn’t a characteristic I would think of first when considering Amouage perfumes. It is green and floral and aromatic. Though I wouldn’t say that they smell similarly, I think that Myths has some “weirdness” to it that reminds me of Arbole Arbole. Warmer months (but not hot!) suit much better for wearing Myths – at least for me. I think I’m now at the point where I’m considering a FB purchase (deeply discounted, of course).
For more green perfumes, see Narth’s guest post from last May.
Images: my own
