When you live in a cold climate, encountering something truly lush in nature is rare. Nordic nature tends to be austere and while I love it, it makes me appreciate those moments when it goes against the type even more. Lilacs are one of those anomalies that do not really fit the grand scheme of the Nordic landscape. Every time they are in full bloom, I’m slightly astonished that this is indeed happening.

I have loved lilacs since I was a child and they grew in abundance in my grandmother’s garden. Now there are plenty of them in Brussels, too, just starting to bloom. I love both the smell and the colour and the way the heavy bunches of flowers tumble in the breeze and spring rain.

This means I’m on a perpetual look-out for the ultimate lilac fragrance. Although the scent of lilacs is intoxicating and many people love it, there aren’t too many lilac-centric perfumes: it seems to be a difficult note to interpret. Bois de Jasmin has a comprehensive overview of lilac scents, but the only one I own – I have the travel set – is En Passant by Frederic Malle.

So far, I have found nothing better (Puredistance Opardu is beautiful, but very, very expensive). En Passant is somehow simultaneously a very realistic take and also an artistic etude on the theme. It is soft and lovely and on me, I find the lilacs almost honeyed or covered in pollen – it’s probably the famous wheat note -, but a touch of green keeps things from being too sweet. There is a slightly watery quality that reminds many people of lilacs in the rain. It doesn’t last long, but for a smell like this I’m happy to reapply.

Another lilac-scented product I enjoy is JOIK’s candle in Lovely Lilac. It both smells wonderfully authentic and has a great colour. It is also in a price range that is much less painful than that of Cire Trudon or Byredo.

As a colour, lilac has an even more difficult reputation than as a smell. And yes, it can be difficult to wear, but by no means impossible. As always, it’s easiest when the colour is away from the face and used in small doses. Lilac nail polish can be very elegant – Chanel does a good one, as do Ciate and Nails INC, but I went with Essie this time: Lilacism is a true lilac and I happen to think it looks very nice.

The current lack of any actual lilac clothes in my wardrobe is not because I dislike them, but because there are hardly any in stores. People are wary of anything that resembles purple, but I firmly believe there is a lilac for everyone (or at least for most people) – greyish or taupe-y tones are often good for pale blond people, but there are also blue, pink and red leaning versions, so just keep trying (Cos has some great lilac stuff this spring).

Somewhat counterintuitively, I think that one of the most modern ways to wear lilac is top-to-toe. And I’m not just saying this, I have done it and lived to tell the tale. One of my absolute favourite items of clothing is a dress Karolin Kuusik made for me, in a pale lilac colour. It is unfortunately in Tallinn at the moment, so I cannot photograph it for the blog, but you can see a bad picture of it here. And after all this talk, I now really, really need a lilac cashmere sweater to wear with my khaki trousers.