実家に生えてる銀木犀の木
今年もひっそり咲いていました
seen from New Zealand
seen from Kuwait

seen from Philippines

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Sri Lanka
seen from United States

seen from Brazil
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from China

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Russia
seen from Singapore
seen from China

seen from United States
seen from United States
実家に生えてる銀木犀の木
今年もひっそり咲いていました
Osmanthus x fortunei / Fortune's Tea Olive at the Dallas Arboretum and Botanical Garden in Dallas, TX
#たべもの #カフェ #Tea Olive
小腹が空いたので、伏見稲荷の近くでカフェを探すも、どこも混み合っている様子。友人はコーヒーが苦手なので、紅茶が飲めそうなところはどこかないものか……と彷徨っているうちに、閑静な住宅街の中にある小さなカフェ、ティー オリーブさんを発見しました。恐らく元々民家だったところをカフェにしているような感じなので、外観は結構民家、でも中に入るととても可愛らしい雰囲気になっていました。
どこかアットホームな空間。友達のお家にお呼ばれしたような感覚が味わえます。
伏見稲荷からは少し歩かなければいけないので、伏見稲荷周辺でひしめいていた観光の方々も中々ここまでは足を伸ばさないのでしょう。店内は私たちともう一組だけ。ゆっくりのびのび過ごせました。
周囲は完全に住宅街なので、見知らぬ街の、見知らぬ生活を垣間見つつ。旅先の全く知らない土地でも、ここを地元として生活している人々がいるんだよなぁ……などと、当たり前のことなんですがそんなことを考えながら歩くのが好きです。
Spanish moss and tea olive in Charleston, South Carolina, by Kim Graham.
キンモクセイの大木(10月17日)
Orange-Flowered Tea Olive (Osmanthus fragrans var. aurantiacus)
sweet osmanthus, sweet olive, tea olive, and fragrant olive (Osmanthus fragrans)
this bittersweet fragrance
I’m a bit of a fragrance nerd, so when the scent of tea olive/osmanthus started to be a sort of symbolic theme in Utsukushii Kare season 2 I looked into what osmanthus is supposed to smell like and how it’s been used in the fragrance world. Among other things, I was curious about how someone who doesn’t live in a region where tea olives generally grow might experience something resembling the smell of the actual flower. I thought I’d share what I learned here in case other folks were interested.
The tea olive, or osmanthus fragrans, is a specific variety of osmanthus, and it’s the one that’s used in perfumery, so either term is correct here. Normally I’d use whichever term was more specific (in this case, “tea olive”), but in the perfume world, it seems the term everyone uses is the more general “osmanthus,” so that’s what I’ll use here.
Caveat #1: I’ve never smelled osmanthus in real life, nor have I smelled any perfumes that feature it heavily (at least, not that I know of--it wasn’t really on my radar before). I’d love to hear any thoughts from folks who’ve experienced it firsthand, especially if they know of a fragrance that captures the smell faithfully.
Caveat #2: I really am just a bit of a fragrance nerd, so apologies if I flub any details here. There are so many levels to this hobby that while I’ve been getting increasingly into it for some time now, I’m still very much a beginner. A couple more things to note first:
The processes for preserving the scent of osmanthus tend to result in an end product that is fairly different from the smell of fresh osmanthus. Of course, this is hardly unusual in perfumery. But the distinction matters if you’re curious about the scent that comes up in the show. (Personally, I went into this curious about both approximating the smell of osmanthus on the branch and about how the preserved form is used.)
Also, osmanthus mostly grows in East Asia but a lot of the biggest fragrance producers are based in the U.S. and Europe. So a lot of folks end up smelling osmanthus in a perfume context while having no way to tell if it resembles the actual plant. This means well-regarded osmanthus perfumes may smell good but not resemble the real thing much at all.
So, what do we know about what the tree in Hira’s backyard smells like? I mean, for those of us who don’t live somewhere where osmanthus fragrans is plentiful. There aren’t a ton of detailed descriptions of the smell of fresh osmanthus flowers online (or, not in English, anyway), but I found a few. It’s almost always supposed to have a jasmine-like quality as well as a sweet, fruity component. One person on BaseNotes described it as “buttery, warm, bright, only slightly fruity, with hay-like and wine-like qualities” (they seem to be in the minority in downplaying the fruity aspect). Some describe it as having a more noticeable green note than the osmanthus absolute used in perfumery, including a bitter greenness that could help to account for the “bittersweet” descriptor used in Utsukushii Kare. I also noticed that reviewers of osmanthus perfumes that are supposed to be on the realistic side often included references to suede, green tea, and/or soap, but I’m not sure how faithful those really are.
Then there’s the osmanthus absolute smell (or osmanthus extracted into other forms, like “concrete”). Not the fresh flower, but the scent that you get when you preserve it. People tend to describe it as having three main components. One is a fairly standard (and apparently, quite pleasant) white floral smell, similar to jasmine. The second is a fruity aspect. People usually compare it to stone fruits, especially apricot and peach, sometimes adding something about honey (e.g. “apricots in honey”) or even cream. The last of the three is a component people usually describe as “animalic” and/or smelling like leather. (”Animalic” refers to scents like musks that, when done right, stop just shy of actual stank and instead smell to us like sweat or a person’s skin scent, with all the affecting associations that come with that. In the past, the materials used to create those notes were usually from animal sources like civet oil, hence “animalic.”) This makes sense given that chemicals called indoles that show up in white florals are also often somewhat animalic (with the potential to cross into being downright foul). In addition to these three main aspects, osmanthus in its absolute form is also sometimes described as having green notes and/or woody notes, especially really resinous woods like oud.
If this sounds more complex than the average floral scent, that’s because (according to everything I’ve read, at least) it is. There’s a reason osmanthus is such a sought-after perfume ingredient. The complexity is a big part of it. Complex smells are just more interesting. Also, since it straddles a few different classes of scents (floral, fruity, and animalic), it’s useful as a note that can blend those types of notes together or place them in a more harmonious composition with one another. It’s also just more distinctive and novel than the typical floral scents we’ve all encountered time and again, at least to European and American noses.
Getting back to the smell of Hira’s tree, there are a few osmanthus perfumes that people say smell a lot like the real thing. Some of these are scented only with straight-up osmanthus, while others are sort of like collages, putting together a lot of different scents to create an osmanthus-like gestalt.
In one forum post I read, someone recommended the osmanthus balm from this China-based Etsy shop, saying that their wife, who was very familiar with the real thing, said it was the closest perfume she’d smelled to the real flower. It was also one of the most affordable options I saw. Some folks praised L’Occitane’s osmanthus line or the osmanthus soliflore oil from Dame Perfumery, but both have somewhat mixed reviews. (They’re also both on the affordable side, though the L’Occitane line doesn’t seem to be for sale from them directly in the U.S.) Inlé (Memo) is also supposed to be good, and on the realistic side. Osmanthus by The Different Company seems to have a big fan base, but also some detractors. The most well-regarded osmanthus perfume I ran across was Miyako (Auphorie). It gets great reviews and is supposed to have convinced legendary fragrance critic Luca Turin to come out of retirement to write about it because he was such a big fan.
In addition to all of these soliflores (single-flower perfumes) and perfumes where osmanthus is exclusively centered, there are a lot of interesting perfumes where osmanthus plays a notable role, but in a more varied context with other scents. A search on Fragrantica yields a long list of fragrances containing osmanthus, many of which sound promising. A few of the ones I ran across in my search made it onto my “to sample” list: Gucci’s Flora EDP, Serge Lutens’s Nuit de Cellophane, and Perris Monte Carlo’s Absolue d’Osmanthe.
Of course, while reading about all of this I got to thinking about what all these qualities of osmanthus might mean for Utsukushii Kare’s story. It has been brought up in a couple of ways on the show so far. The tea olive apparently blooms twice a year, in June and September, but it’s the latter that’s been referenced on the show. For Hira, it’s symbolic of the passage of time. Osmanthus represents his and Kiyoi’s “autumn of immaturity” that comes before “a winter of judgment.” He has a related belief, almost a superstition, that because he was separated from Kiyoi in the winter once before, it’s bound to happen again.
The bittersweet quality of the fragrance is also highlighted in the show. I think this is in reference to the combination of sweet fruity/floral and bitter green aspects some describe in the fresh flower scent. It’s fitting that bittersweetness, commonly a metaphor for ambivalence, is mentioned almost in the same breath as both Hira’s and Kiyoi’s contradictory feelings about their relationship.
Although the smell of osmanthus absolute is a further step away from what’s represented in the show, I think it has a kind of resonance with the story’s themes that is worth exploring. Basically, the combination of notes within the scent suggests youth, innocence, and sweet romance on the one hand and a kind of sweaty, dirty sensuality on the other. To break this overall picture down a bit: At the core is the jasmine-like white floral scent. White florals are associated with romance, femininity, and on the indolic end of the spectrum, a kind of heady, hypnotic sexiness. The apricot/peach aspect provides literal sweetness that mirrors the metaphorical sweetness of a loving relationship. The combination of apricot/peach and white florals is also often associated with youthfulness, even innocence. At the same time, the animalic aspect of osmanthus is sweaty and suggestive. When it links up with the indolic aspect of the white floral notes, they balance out the innocent associations with something more libidinous.
This combination could be said to be metaphorically fitting for any number of BLs or romantic dramas in general--what romance story doesn’t balance sweetness and sexuality?--but I think it’s a particularly good fit for Utsukushii Kare, in which a thread of somewhat warped sexuality is often intertwined with something surprisingly innocent and fundamentally sweet.
Well, I hope this is as interesting for others to read as it was for me to investigate. At some point I’ll probably give some of these osmanthus fragrances a try in sample form, and if folks are interested I’ll report back about that.
Tea olive flowers
Charleston, SC. January 2020. Photo by Lorien Lucero.
Osmanthus fragrans f. aurantiacus / Orange-Flowered Tea Olive at the Sarah P. Duke Gardens at Duke University in Durham, NC