For a person who doesn’t think of herself as a huge fan of Hermès fragrances, I certainly own quite a few of them – around 10. This is more than I have from Chanel or Guerlain, two houses that I would definitely consider closer to my heart than Hermès. But in some ways, I have come to appreciate Hermès more than any other classic perfume maker.

While I adore Chanel’s exclusive series and love Guerlain classics, neither brand has been doing anything interesting with their mainstream fragrances lately. Coco Noir was a disappointment and the less I hear about Chance flankers, the better. They are probably not quite as bad, however, as Guerlain’s latest, Aqua Allegoria Teazzurra – a thoroughly uninspired perfume.

Hermès, meanwhile, has come out with a very solid pillar fragrance, Jour d’Hermès (I prefer the absolu version), respectfully updated their classics (Bel Ami Vetiver is a case in point) and added some very nice new variations to the Garden, Cologne and Hermessences (the expensive) collections. They have also launched an excellent bath series and offer most of their scents in 15ml bottles, something other big brands refuse to do. These small bottles can be purchased in boxes of 4, either of the same fragrance or mixed. This is the main reason my Hermès collection is so extensive.

Le Jardin de Monsieur Li is not my favourite Hermès – it’s not even my favourite from the garden series, this honour goes to the woderful Un Jardin sur le Nil – but it’s a perfect example of what Jean-Claude Ellena, the house perfumer, has been doing at Hermès. It is a watercolour of a scent and has the traditional plusses and minuses of Ellena’s work – it’s lovely, extremely easy to wear but not boring, gauzy and radiant. It’s also very sheer and doesn’t last.

Monsieur Li’s garden seems to be quite minimalist: there are kumquats, some jasmines and watery greenness and that’s pretty much it. Ellena is known for his use of citruses: in this incarnation, his citrus is soft and sunny, closer to oranges than lemons (as the scent of kumquats indeed is). The jasmine is very sheer and quite faint, to me it smelled almost like weak green jasmine tea – probably an illusion created by the flowers and the green notes. But I like to think that Mr Li is actually having a cup of tea near a pond, under a kumquat tree.

My description sounds rather limpid, but I do in fact like the scent a lot. As long as one doesn’t expect what it cannot deliver and remembers to reapply, it is a lovely summer fragrance, the equivalent of a very flattering, easy sundress that you pick every time you cannot decide what to wear. The dress might have a vaguely chinoiserie pattern, but it would look lovely everywhere in the world.

PS The fragrance on the picture is a different Hermès, as small bottles of Monsieur Li were not yet available. The kumquats on the cover image grow in our home.