Fragrant flowers form the core of perfumery. The scented delights of rose, jasmine, violet, and lavender are integral ingredients in the perfumer’s palette. Not all flowers are created equally, though. For instance, very few flowers have the powerful scented punch of a graceful gardenia. The other day, I was walking around the neighbourhood and spotted many garden-variety hibiscus flowers. Walking and admiring these flamboyant blooms, I lamented that they didn’t have a scent. It seemed a shame that such a vibrant, lively flower didn’t have a voice.
Of course, that doesn’t stop perfumers from creating an imagined olfactory portrayal of the flower. In my experience, they do this chiefly around an accord of tart, sweet, tropical notes with rose, vanilla/amber, or a combination of both as a foundation. The cumulative effects of all these notes usually bring the flower to life in an overly saccharine mix that’s an assault on the nose. Even with such a heavy emphasis on sweetness, most hibiscus perfumes seem intended for summertime wear. It makes sense, given they’re a flower native to warm parts of the world.
I haven’t tried too many perfumes that feature the note, however. The forgettable tedium of Jo Malone’s Red and Yellow Hibiscus and the particularly awful Hibiscus Mahajád from Maison Crivelli spring to mind. In my collection, I can only think of one scent that features the fantasy note, Escada’s Sunset Heat for Men. Indeed, it isn’t something I wear often. Sunset Heat progresses from a youthful opening accord featuring star fruit to a fusion of florals, musks, and citruses suggestive of tropical fruit punch. I’m thankful it never becomes too cloying.
Eventually, I’m sure someone will nail down the hibiscus flower in perfumery. There are hundreds of different kinds of hibiscus flowers. And a couple of varieties indeed have a very light fragrance. Besides its phantom use in perfume, hibiscus is a popular ingredient in tea. It’s made by combining the roselle hibiscus blooms with honey and herbs or simply with water and the dried petals or calyx of the flowers. The tea makes me think of cranberry fruits, but like some perfumes featuring the hibiscus note, it can also go syrupy-sweet if dosed incorrectly. In my imagination, I picture the hibiscus scent as close to that of jasmine – heady, intoxicating, enticing, drawing one closer.
My perfect hibiscus scent would feature tea, lavender, jasmine, rose, green shades from galbanum, some tropical fruits, and as small a dose of vanilla and amber as possible. I’ll keep searching for the one. But in the meantime, I’ll continue to enjoy the attractive hibiscus flowers in my neighbourhood and my garden as intended. Plenty of other flowers scent our lives – wake up and smell the roses, as they say.
Do you love any scents featuring hibiscus? I can think of several other flowers I wish were scented, including the sunflower. How about you?
All photos are my own.
Disclaimer: In this post, I’m differentiating the fantasy scent of hibiscus from ambrette (hibiscus seed). Oil from ambrette, also known as hibiscus abelmoschus, has a musky aroma. It differs from roselle (hibiscus sabdariffa) and hibiscus rosa-sinensis.
