With daylight savings time comes the definitive sign of what Paul Gauguin in a famous painting referred to as The Loss of Virginity: the Awakening of Spring, that is. With the days getting longer and the snow melting, optimism returns and just like we want to put away the heavy woolies and galoshes in favor of capris and plimsols, so we need to revise our fragrance wardrobe. But where to start and what does signify spring in regards to perfumes?

The most formulaic answer would be flowers; lots and lots of floral fragrances. Like floral prints is a recurring theme for fashion collections at the roll of every spring catwalk watch, co-coordinating your fragrance with seasonal flowers seems like a romantic idea; just don’t wear them with flowers top to bottom! The first rush of yellow pom-poms of mimosa finds its accompaniment in L’Artisan Parfumeur Mimosa pour Moi, Kenzo Summer or Guerlain’s Champs Elysées. Hyacinths find a perfect foil in Chamade by Guerlain, inspired by a novel by the same name by Françoise Sagan. The writer took the name from the drum-roll that signified retreat during the Napoleonic Wars. There you have it, a romantic scented surrender if there ever was one! Lilies with their Easter connotations bring their spicy piquancy to such fragrances as Eternity or Un Lys by Serge Lutens. Lily of the valley (a greener-smelling blossom than lily) is the May darling, traditionally offered on the 1st of May in France to bring luck: The classic Diorissimo has been the reference, but do try out Envy by Gucci as well for a neon-hued interpretation of the note. Peonies and their fresh ambience are amply highlighted in Ange ou Démon Tendre by Givenchy . Orange blossom and neroli (the latter deriving from the same tree via a different process method) with their uplifting, serene, just plain out happy smell are the leitmotif in fragrances for both men and women, such as Infusion de Fleurs d’Oranger by Prada , Neroli Sauvage by Creed and Lanvin’s Arpège for Men .

But flowers aren’t the whole deal. Clearly not everyone wants to smell of the florist’s or like a garden border (we can count Coco Chanel among them, saying “Women should not smell of roses”). So another direction, which has been enjoying a growing popularity recently, is towards light “green” fragrances evoking snapped leaves, fresh dewy grass and the exhilarating ambience of a sunny, yet still crisp, spring morning. These fragrances usually involve citrusy notes on top of complimentary magnolia, grassy vetiver and fruity greens, the sharp bitter bite of exotic grass galbanum or the use of violet leaf, mostly utilized in men’s colognes. Nevertheless in general green fragrances lend themselves well to both sexes, no matter to whom they’re marketed. Vent Vert by Balmain from 1947 has always been the emblematic “green”, conceived at a time when such categories were frowned upon by the bourgeoisie who expected perfumes to smell rich, decadent and perfume-y. Vent Vert was nature red in tooth and claw years before we began to strive for ‘eco-friendliness’. The update to this idea comes in A Scent by Issey Miyake or the tomato-vine leaves-rich Eau de Campagne by Sisley. Chance Eau Fraîche is Chanel’s reply to the need for fresher, more acidulous fragrances, but you can’t go wrong with their older standby Cristalle either: crisp, young, efficient, tingling your nostrils with gusto! Guys are well catered for in Paradox Green by Jacomo and Eau de Cartier , a clean, subtly “greenish” effect that won’t have you searching from where the green patch sprouted. And of course Creed’s distinguished Green Irish Tweed says it all by its very name…

But perhaps the most intriguing direction of them all would be to pair elements from both groups which evolve into fragrances which read as kaleidoscopic vistas: The synergy of rose and patchouli in Voleur de Roses by boutique-sold L’Artisan Parfumeur evokes a mysterious creature out of a Twilight story, both earthy and rosy-fresh. Narciso for Her and Narciso for Him are so abstract while still “fresh” (yet in a discreetly musky way) that you can’t quite pinpoint their appeal, their woody undercurrent hinting at a sensuality that is budding. Power by Kenzo for men is soft, woody, yet also floral, an anomaly in the canon of men’s fragrances and therefore a prime choice for new awakenings. Pure White Linen by Estee Lauder is touted as “the scent to live in year long” and its core is a “dry” lily of the valley accord, but, really, it’s much more like freshly-pressed shirts with the steamy-iron feel of aldehydes, naturally inviting you to put it on first thing in the morning when the day is full of promise and summer hasn’t even arrived yet.

The ultimate practicality is that spring scents can well transition into summer wearing and they will still bring a smile of joyous cognizance even in the dead of winter: What’s not to love?