While visiting my brother- and sister-in-law in Northern Virginia this past weekend, I finally came face-to-blossom with a linden tree. There are lindens planted near the sidewalks all along the little streets of their suburban neighborhood, and of course I’d seen the trees before on previous visits, but this was the first time I’d seen them in blossom.
They smell heavenly.
Of course I’m not telling you anything you didn’t already know. Everyone who’s already smelled the linden blossoms knows, and everyone who’s read any comments on linden trees knows that the fragrance is the most salient point about them. I had been skeptical that the real smell would approach people’s rhapsodies about it, partly because every perfume I’ve smelled that purported to evoke the smell of linden (lime blossom) smelled like laundry detergent to me: MAC Naked Honey, L’Artisan La Chasse aux Papillons, Annick Goutal Eau du Ciel, Jo Malone French Lime Blossom. I was wrong. Lime blossoms really are gorgeous.
And the first thing I thought when I walked under this tree on the way to E’s front door was, “That smells like Amoureuse!” I didn’t have my sample with me to check, but when I went back out to the car to retrieve our suitcase, there it was again: my brain said Amoureuse!
When I was wearing my Amoureuse sample a few weeks ago, all I could relate it to was the lovely nostalgic smell of black locust blossoms. I knew that some reviews had likened Amoureuse to linden blossom, but since I had never smelled it, I didn’t understand the reference. Amoureuse is supposed to evoke the distinctive smell of Victoria box trees that blossom all along the streets of San Francisco, but of course I’ve never smelled Victoria box either. And I notice that linden doesn’t smell exactly like black locust, and neither one smells exactly like Amoureuse, but all three smells share a few characteristics: they are heady, heavy wafting odors, and they are all sweetly floral, almost honeyed smells.
Lime blossom, or linden, holds a place in one of my favorite poems, “Patterns” by Amy Lowell, and in the beautiful love poem “Unter den Linden by Walther van der Vogelweide. And now I think that I must attempt to find both a small decant of Amoureuse and a linden tree for my yard…
Image is of Lime tree blossoms from wikipedia.
I walked under linden trees just the other day and was enjoying them sniffing and saying aahh! – and I saw some people eyeing me strangely. 🙂 I just couldn’t help it – they smell great and remind me of my childhood (we had one outside our house).
But I never connected it to Amoureuese – for that matter, I haven’t smelled A. in quite a while. Tomorrow. 🙂
Ines, I did think the smell of linden blossoms was wonderful, and I can see that if it was a smell you encountered as a child, how nostalgic it would be.
Oh, go smell some Amoureuse and tell me if you think I’m crazy…
Hi Mals, thanks for the nice post on the lovely A.
I need to go back and revisit it; haven’t smelled it in awhile. It will be my way of olfactorily re-visiting my fave city, San Francisco, this summer. Can’t make my annual trip out there this year because of unemployment issues but I CAN take a whiff, close my eyes, and be there in spirit. Ahhh …
Hi, Ann! Amoureuse is really beautiful, isn’t it? Somehow I must make my way to SF when the box trees are blooming.
A heavenly smell? They smell of cum!
I think it is delrae’s DEBUT that smells like linden trees.
I haven’t smelled Debut yet – but I thought that was the lily of the valley one. Although I do notice that frequently people have commented that LotV scents (for example, L’Artisan’s La Chasse aux Papillons) smell like linden to them. I myself thought LCaP smelled like bathroom cleaner, and I tend not to like fragrances that are marketed as smelling like linden.
Varying perception again.