Jean Patou Vacances

It seems funny that out of all the thousands of lines T.S. Eliot wrote, the only one that really resonates with the general public is the famous opening of The Wasteland: "April is the cruellest month". Still, despite my somewhat lengthy training in British and American literatures, it is the one quickest to my tongue, too... only I can continue: "breeding / Lilacs out of the dead land". To me, lilacs are the very scent of spring, my least favourite time of year.

Remember that "Seasons" clothing and cosmetics system flogged heavily in the eighties? With a freckled, yellow-undertoned complexion, hazel eyes and dark chestnut (red-brown) hair, I'm an Autumn, and that suits me just fine. I love Keats' "season of mists and mellow fruitfulness" and all that comes with it: the climate, colours, events, food and scents of the dying year. Spring, with its chilly rain, lifeless skies and dreary, clinging mud, has always seemed to me to be the most over-hyped period, the time when we're supposed to be thrilled that "everything is awakening" - including violets, lily-of-the-valley, magnolia and the dreaded lilacs. Linden actually appears in June, but I still feel it smells suspiciously of spring.

As with any rule, there are exceptions. I can sometimes forgive hyacinth its sweetness because its spicy and metallic green sides can add interest to an otherwise opaque oriental, Annick Goutal's Grand Amour in EdP or Vivienne Westwood's Boudoir, say. Though I seldom wear it, Gucci's urban Envy proved to me that hyacinth and even (gasp!) lily-of-the-valley could smell cool instead of cold, edgy instead of dainty. I have long searched for the perfume that could rescue lilacs for me in this way. I once tried to convince myself that I enjoyed Frederic Malle's En Passant, sniffing hopefully at it and exclaiming about the dewy cucumber notes. My husband came over, grabbed my wrist and put his nose to it, and said simply and dismissively: "Lilacs."

All this to say I had great hopes that Vacances, released in 1936 by Jean Patou to celebrate the introduction of paid vacation in France, would finally be my lilac scent. It is not, lovely though it may be. There is an initial peppery waft of hyacinth with a green stem-like transparency over top, which Victoria suggests is galbanum. There is a soft, vanilla-infused musk in the drydown. But in between there is a headily sweet and creamy mix of lilac and mimosa. It will go on my list with Parfums DelRae Debut of perfumes best enjoyed by others.