I'm a latecomer (about three decades late) to the vanilla party. While my peers were dousing themselves in Coty's 'Vanilla Fields' in the 90s, I was more of a Body Shop 'Dewberry' (graduating to Elizabeth Arden 'Sunflowers') kind of girl. Vanilla felt too obvious, too sweet, too everywhere. But something's shifted. Lately, the note I was once so dismissive of has been quietly weaving its way into my scent wardrobe. It began innocently enough; a quick office spritz of the year's biggest scent story just to 'test' (I blame Le Monde Gourmand). But vanilla has a habit of lingering, and now it's become a subtle top-up to my go-to woody florals such as Byredo's 'Mojave Ghost', £150 / $205, thanks to the ease of nostalgic 90s mists such as Phlur's 'Vanilla Skin Hair & Body Fragrance', £25 / $38. What started as professional curiosity has turned into something… stickier.
© Getty ImagesScents of indulgence
Vanilla isn't just a gourmand cliché. Historically, the smell of frosted cakes and birthday parties, it taps into pleasant childhood memories such as baking and even breastfeeding, to evoke positive emotions. But its key molecule (vanillin) does more than conjure nostalgia. Studies suggest it directly engages our olfactory receptors for a double dollop of creamy comfort. To me, the scent is the olfactive soundtrack to a schmaltzy teen romance novel; the kind my flannel-shirted, Nirvana-loving younger self would have rolled her eyes at. So why am I suddenly leaning in?
Hormone havoc
Part of it is trend-driven; scent is cyclical and just as iris and violet became shorthand for 'old lady perfume' after their heyday, vanilla is having its moment once again. Fast-forward fifty years and today's neo-gourmands could well be the eau de old lady for another generation. But there's another factor at play; those pesky hormones that are also currently interrupting my much-needed shut-eye. According to women's hormone specialist Dr. Louise Newson, fluctuating hormone levels can affect pathways in your brain that govern smell and taste. We already know scent preferences shift across menstrual cycles, so it stands to reason that perimenopause can shift olfactory perception and I happen to be craving more soothing aromas.
Vanilla, but make it grown-up
So is my late-life vanilla crush the fragrance equivalent of squeezing into a midlife miniskirt (not that I would knock anyone for sporting a bottom-grazing mini at any age)? I personally think not, thanks to modern iterations which are richer, moodier and far removed from cupcake clichés. Think D.S Durga's 'Deep Dark Vanilla', £155 / $325, and Tom Ford's 'Tobacco Vanille', £145 / $225 for a new wave of neo-gourmands that balance sweetness with sophistication.
The final spritz
Perhaps vanilla isn't a regression to teenage sentimentality at all, but an evolution; the olfactive short-hand for comfort, nostalgia and a little self-indulgence at a time when many things (hormones included) are in flux. And if midlife means embracing a fragrance that feels like a warm hug then spritz me up.
