A Splash of Sunshine: On the Cheerful Persistence of Limoncello in Perfumery
There is a moment, after a languid dinner somewhere on the Italian coast, when the day’s heat finally begins to soften. It is then that a frosted, slender bottle often appears, containing a liquid of an almost alarmingly vivid yellow, a colour that seems to have been invented purely for the purpose of joy. Limoncello.
It is sweet, intensely fragrant, and carries that particular warmth of a spirit that has been thoroughly tamed by sugar. In perfumery, this note is more than a simple citrus. It is sunshine in a gourmand guise, a sticky, brilliant foundation that lends a zesty, playful character to a composition. It is a lemon with a mischievous twinkle in its eye, and I have been quite taken with how deftly it has been handled by houses as diverse as the coolly architectural Byredo and the edgier Boy Smells. But what, precisely, are we smelling?
A Moment for the Science, If You'll Indulge Me
We must briefly discuss a molecule called Limonene. Now, my talents lie firmly in appreciation rather than chemistry, but the science here is rather charming. Limonene is the oil found in citrus peel, the very same substance that allows for the sort of pyrotechnic flourish a bartender might employ to liven up a Tuesday evening.
Here is the delightful part: we have recently learned that pure Limonene is almost entirely odourless. The scent we associate with oranges and lemons actually comes from the tiny impurities left over from the extraction process. As most of the Limonene used in our perfumes is a byproduct of the orange juice industry, it retains these characterful little imperfections. It is a rather wonderful metaphor, I think. It is not our polished perfection that gives us our character, but our charming, inherent impurities.
A Prelude of Peel
Before we discuss the main attractions, a few other notable citrus scents deserve a mention. I have a fleeting affection for Tokyomilk’s "Gin and Rosewater," which has a wonderfully bitter citrus peel note. It is not a grand, high-pedigree scent, but there is something deliciously subversive about its composition.
For a more classical interpretation, Hermès Concentré d'Orange Verte offers a masterful, almost terse impression of peel and pith, like a very dry marmalade. If you prefer your lemons bright and almost candied, Acqua Viva by Profumum Roma is a brilliant, long-lasting choice, while the Neroli Portofino Forte from Tom Ford introduces a blood orange note whose bitterness elegantly prevents it from becoming too sweet.
But let us turn to four fragrances where Limoncello is given centre stage.
Oud Immortel by Byredo | An Unlikely, Brilliant Pairing
One does occasionally wonder if a perfumer has taken a bet in a pub, but in the most delightful way. The idea of mixing the sticky sweetness of Limoncello with the profound, dark woodiness of Oud sounds like a recipe for a rather spectacular failure. And yet, Byredo has managed to bottle brilliance. This woody, spicy affair opens with that cheerful Limoncello note, flanked by incense and cardamom. It is a strange but compelling accord that settles beautifully into a heart of oud and patchouli before drying down to a sophisticated base of oakmoss and tobacco. It is perfectly unisex and offers a respectable six hours of wear. The effect is akin to sipping a digestif in a quiet, leather-bound library.
Italian Kush by Boy Smells | The Modern Bohemian
The name hints at a certain herbal pastime of which I am, of course, entirely ignorant. This recent release is a fascinating aromatic woody scent. It opens with our star Limoncello, made sharp and green with basil and pomelo. The heart introduces a peculiar but interesting note of rhubarb alongside cannabis and cypress, before it all rests on a warm base of sandalwood. This is an intimate affair, a fragrance that sits quite close to the skin and offers a few hours of enjoyment. It feels perfectly suited for a casual lunch in Shoreditch, though perhaps not for a board meeting.
Limoncello by Brocard | The Brief, Sweet Romance
Crafted by Sébastien Martin, this fragrance is precisely what it claims to be. A bright, cheerful citrus with a soft, powdery vanilla base. It opens with Sicilian lemon, develops a heart of Limoncello and gin-like juniper, and settles into a gentle vanilla and musk. It is charming, evocative of a perfectly made lemon meringue pie, but its performance is rather like a holiday romance: fleeting. Expect intimate projection and about three hours of wear. Utterly delightful while it lasts, though.
Eternium Oudh by The Dua Brand | A Fading Echo
I believe in being candid about these things. This fragrance is an "impression," which is to say a copy, of Byredo's Oud Immortel. It possesses the opening notes, certainly, with its Limoncello and rosewood, but it lacks the structural integrity of the original. Where the Byredo is a complete composition that evolves over an evening, this is a fleeting echo. It sits very close to the skin and vanishes in about an hour. It is a sketch of a masterpiece, perhaps useful for a quick trip to the shops, but one should not expect it to linger.
Whether you prefer your Limoncello buttressed by dark woods or served sparkling and solo, there is something undeniably cheering about the note. It is a welcome splash of sunshine, particularly when the British weather declines to cooperate.
All the best,
Victoria