When we last visited...well, me, I was having quite the conundrum. What would I sample for my post La Chasse post? There I was, poised over the edge of the box (you remember my Indiana Jones metaphor, surely), peering down into the dark abyss.
Okay, not dark. But still, I was peering.
Really, these things are so simple. It's spring, the weather is gorgeous, and there before me is a hot pink bottle with the name "Spring Flower." The universe always points us where we need to go, so I went.
Creed Spring Flower was created in 1951, apparently as a signature scent for the lovely and timeless fashion icon Audrey Hepburn. The notes are melon, peach, apple, jasmine, rose, musk, and ambergris. Of course, I love Audrey Hepburn, and interestingly, this seemingly uncomplicated floral has depths one might not expect, much like the woman herself. To be honest, I don't care too much for the opening. Maybe I'm as weary of fruity florals as the next person given the current trends--not that any of those trendy releases are on par with Spring Flower. The top notes here are a sweet, delicate burst of fruit, newly ripe and freshly juiced. Literally, it smells more like something I would enjoy drinking than wearing. Some may find it refreshing, but it's a bit much for me. The fruit lasts a good long while, too, so it takes time to get around to the good stuff.
I put this on around 3:00 Saturday afternoon for the first time, and by 6:00 I was ready to be done with it. I felt a bit like a high-end fruit cocktail. I considered the Audrey angle, and decided although it had been created for her, she surely couldn't have worn it much. It goes directly against her clean, elegant style. (Probably she wore it every day, but what do I know?) It's a pretty fragrance, light and sweet, in my opinion (at the time, especially) lovely for a young woman.
The magic happened later in the evening, around 8:00 or 9:00 o'clock. We were sitting on the couch watching a movie when the smell of jasmine caught my attention. I don't think I have ever been so entranced by that particular note, but the blend here made it nearly impossible to keep my wrist away from my nose. I couldn't stop sniffing. Even Bob couldn't get enough of the scent. Every time I raised my wrist, he'd ask for a sniff too. It smelled exactly, exactly like the night-blooming jasmine here in Georgia, only a bit more musky and at the same time more delicate. Now that's a fragrance I could picture Audrey Hepburn wearing, delicate and mysterious, lovely.
Just why oh why can't the whole development of this one be as lovely as the end? While the musk and ambergris tone the fruit down a bit in the middle, it's still very fruity. I noticed little rose--maybe I should stop here and say, I was so taken by the drydown that I've worn this for three days straight--and really, the jasmine seems to appear after the fragrance has worn away altogether. Or perhaps I just somehow manage to block my senses until it arrives. The fruit has grown less bothersome to me as I've worn this, but I don't think for me that it's bottle-worthy, or even decant-worthy. But if you're looking for a genuinely beautifully done fruity floral, you should try this one.
*photo from NeimanMarcus.com