Violet is one of my favourite perfume notes*, especially if it’s blended with wood, or green notes, or moss, or leather. It is therefore relatively – but not entirely – understandable that I bought Byredo’s unnamed scent pretty much as soon as I tried it. I don’t think it’s among the perfume masterpieces of the world, but it’s good and it hits some of my very specific sweet spots.

Unnamed** starts with a pinch of sharp pepper and something fresh and fruity (the gin accord?). That dualism continues as the scent evolves: the pepper morphs into cedar and moss, while the freshness turns into a lush, iris-tinged violet. It’s that violet note, underpinned by wood, that draws me in and keeps me there. The contrast between the two sides of the fragrance keeps mellowing, until I can hardly smell anything at all. Unfortunately, that happens way too early. It’s possible that I’m anosmic to something in the base, but after lunch I struggle to smell it on my skin.

In case you experience similar – or different – issues with the Byredo but are still keen on violet, here are some of my favourites:

Serge Lutens Bois de Violette. This is a beautiful, beautiful woody violet scent: if you are familiar with Feminite du Bois, then this is similar, but with added violet. The reason I don’t own it is that it’s faint on me and disappears quickly, probably because I’m anosmic to some musks (I have the same problem, to a lesser extent, with FdB). It’s of course ironic that I DID purchase the unnamed Byredo and that doesn’t last on me either.

Guerlain Apres l’Ondee. I always say I like my violets dark and moody, but my most-worn violet scent is actually incredibly pretty and light and powdery. It is my favourite Guerlain and even those who don’t like violets should try it: there is much more going on.

Annick Goutal La Violette. To me, this is the baseline violet – it smells mostly of violets and is not very sweet or very powdery or very green while being a bit of all three. Not complex, but so nice.

Lush Kerbside Violet. A more affordable option, this is a rare beast – cheaper brands usually don’t focus on this note and when they do, the result tends to be of the candy violet kind. This is green and mossy and woody and to my nose, not sweet. Very much recommended for men, too.

Chanel Misia. If you would in fact prefer violet candy, then this is the most refined violet (and rose) candy you can get. Of all the lipstick-inspired scents out there (Lipstick Rose, Lipstick On, etc), I like this one the best. It’s not my favourite violet category, but I can see why people enjoy Misia.

Balmain Jolie Madame (vintage). I love the combination of leather and violets, but there aren’t that many scents that combine the two. I apologise for including a vintage perfume, but it’s the best I’ve tried in this genre. Not for shrinking violets, though.

Balenciaga Paris. If you prefer your violets fresh and green and dewy, this is a good mainstream option. I find it very likeable, but also elegant and quite unique.

Arquiste Alexandr. The second violet-leather combo on the list, this is much softer than Jolie Madame, the leather more like suede, the violet more delicate. Sometimes classified as a masculine scent (it’s inspired by Pushkin), there is no reason why women should avoid it.

Sonoma Scent Studio Wood Violet. In case you live in the US or are willing to make some effort to acquire indie fragrances, this is a lovely woody violet. It’s not as complex or polished as Bois de Violette, but the price is also quite different. Sonoma Scent Studio has other good violets, but this is my favourite.

Lolita Lempicka Lolita Lempicka. I never think of it as a violet scent, just a delicious fruity gourmand. But violet often reads fruity to me and there IS violet in there. It’s reasonably priced, widely available and most people agree it smells good, so why not try?

Let me know if I’ve left your favourite violet off the list.

*I also like it in tea.

**To be more precise, the fragrance has no name and comes with a set of letters to customise the label. I agree it’s gimmicky, but see no reason to become excessively angry. It’s a relatively cool marketing trick, although not original: Guerlain has done something similar and Margiela has a fragrance named Untitled.