Turn Over a New Leaf
There’s something quietly powerful about the scent of freshly cut grass. Evocative yet understated, it’s a smell that reconnects us with simpler moments: bare feet brushing over morning dew, the thud of a ball on a sun-warmed lawn, the rustle of wind in soft blades. It’s a scent that embodies renewal, an evergreen whisper that life is cyclical, seasons turn, and spring will always come again.
Fragrance houses across the globe are capturing this idea of verdant rebirth, bottling the feeling of nature stretching itself awake. But unlike the overt florals or spicy ambers that dominate many perfume counters, these green concoctions operate with subtlety and suggestion. Their language is chlorophyll and moss, fig and vetiver, basil and wild hay,elements that, together, translate the soul of the outdoors into something wearable.
And while the world has seen an uptick in the embrace of all things natural, from regenerative agriculture to biophilic interiors, this fresh wave of scent takes a more philosophical route. It is not about being of nature in a literal sense, but rather in dialogue with it. Each spritz is a quiet nod to a garden in bloom, a forest floor after rain, a Mediterranean hillside dotted with herbs.
Consider Jardins de Kérylos by Pierre Guillaume Paris, a perfume that evokes the gardens of a reconstructed Greco-Roman villa nestled on France’s Côte d’Azur. Released in 2006, it opens with the moist, luscious scent of green fig and white peach, softened by sycamore wood and tuberose. There’s a feeling of earth just after watering, a sun-warmed terrace under foot, and somewhere in the distance, the lapping of the Mediterranean. It's a scent that speaks in soft tones, but its message is clear: elegance needn’t be loud.
Then there’s Fathom V by Beaufort London. This darker aquatic green, created by Julie Marlowe and Julie Dunkley, leans into the moodier corners of verdure. Launched in 2016, it blends lily, oakmoss, vetiver and salt, conjuring the brackish edges of a pond or the damp forest path leading to it. The inclusion of patchouli lends it depth without heaviness. There’s a story here, a memory, perhaps, of windswept walks and moss-covered stones.
Some scents, by contrast, revel in brightness. Basilico & Fellini by Vilhelm, named in homage to the Italian film maestro Federico Fellini, captures that joyous, heady moment when a garden is bursting into life. With basil at its core, long rumoured to have aphrodisiacal powers, it’s a fragrance that flirts. Jérôme Epinette’s 2017 composition begins with a mischievous hint of dragon fruit before settling into a lush blend of green grass, vetiver, hay and the namesake herb. There’s a sense of decadence, of play, and of late-summer afternoons that stretch lazily into evening.
From another corner of the map comes a tribute to tulips, those most hopeful of spring flowers. Aura of Kazakhstan’s Land of Tulips, created by Sébastien Martin, layers bergamot with freesia, cyclamen and white musk. While tulips themselves don’t emit a strong fragrance in nature, the impression here is one of clean air over wide plains. The floral notes are restrained, the grassiness polished. It’s a quiet celebration of place and possibility.
The language of renewal becomes more abstract still in I Am Verdant by Vyrao. Designed by Lynn Harris in 2021, this perfume is less a landscape and more a feeling. Opening with cucumber and cyclamen, both dewy and cool, it develops into something gently resinous, thanks to frankincense. But it’s the iris absolute and orange flower that give it its heart. There’s a touch of the esoteric here: a fragrance designed to "evoke transformation and illumination." And perhaps it does. In a world craving reinvention, I Am Verdant feels like a confident first step.
Elsewhere, the wildness of nature is foregrounded. Bad Wolf by Nose Republic, created by Cristiano Canali, plays with animalic and herbal notes, leather, cypress, pine, damp earth and daffodil, to create a scent that is both untamed and considered. Released in 2023, it is inspired by the image of a lone wolf howling at the edge of a cliff. It’s not a literal fragrance but one that leans into narrative. There is tension and release here; wilderness balanced by restraint.
At the more botanical end of the spectrum sits Yerbamaté by Lorenzo Villoresi. This is a herb garden in full symphony: maté, tarragon, mint, grass, lavender and tea rustle together in harmony. Its drydown of patchouli, oakmoss and labdanum grounds the fragrance with earthy richness. There’s something contemplative about it, a nod to slow mornings and the ritual of tending to green things.
And for those seeking a hint of old-world charm, Pergola by Exaltatum is worth a sniff. Named after the Hill Garden and Pergola on London’s Hampstead Heath, this scent feels like a stroll through Edwardian nostalgia. Created by Eglija Vaitkevice in 2018, it begins with a classic fougère twist, bergamot, ginger, petitgrain, before unfurling into narcissus, ivy, violet leaf and galbanum. It’s a cultivated green, with a faint whisper of velvet lapels and garden soirées.
If greens have traditionally spoken of spring, some of these compositions look to the end of summer instead. Phaedon Paris’s Lentisque, by Pierre Guillaume, is inspired by the Mediterranean shrub pistacia lentiscus, prized for the resin it yields: mastic. Known poetically as the "tears of Chios", mastic lends a clean, balsamic air to the fragrance, supported by ambergris and galbanum. It is both woody and refreshing, a scent that lingers like warm stone under a coastal sun.
Folkestone Green by British perfumer Alex Verier, under his label Foras, captures another kind of heat: that of sun-dried grass, hanging on to its last days of gold. Blending fennel, cassis and jasmine with ylang-ylang and sandalwood, the fragrance balances light and shadow, warmth and wind. It’s a reflection on impermanence, and on the beauty that comes from it.
Lastly, for those drawn to a more rugged terrain, Cowboy Grass by D.S. & Durga is an American tale told in scent. Rosewood, wild thyme, sagebrush, basil and vetiver combine in a composition that feels sunbaked, bristly, and distinctly Western. It’s a nod to desert highways, creaking porch swings, and boots dusty from the trail. A green, yes, but with grit.
Each of these fragrances, in its own way, offers more than a pleasant smell. They speak to mood, to memory, to the tactile joy of engaging with the natural world, even if only from a city apartment or a crowded commute. They ask us to pause, breathe, and imagine ourselves in wilder settings.
In a cultural moment where wellness is often packaged in sterile minimalism, these green scents remind us that elegance doesn’t require erasure. It can be lush, layered, and deeply rooted. Whether you prefer a cultivated terrace or an untamed cliffside, there’s a scent here that speaks to the season ahead, a season of growth, of change, of coming back to life.
And in the end, isn’t that what spring is all about?
