The house of Floris has released this re-edited eau especially for the queen’s Diamond Jubilee, and as children across the nation dig into Victoria sponge beneath miles of bunting and fluttering Union Jacks, their mothers, nans, and aunts might fancy a few spritzes of Diamond Edition to get into the regal spirit: an appealing, and very British scent that captures this moment, and the monarch, rather perfectly.
More Lloyd Webber than Britten, the queen’s tastes have always veered more towards the bourgeois than the aristocracy, and this polished scent, of cosseted roses, trellises and perfected bedspreads, is to me like a paen to middle England: a plump, stocky rose that rises above. The pinkest, shiniest, satin cushions rest on freshly embroidered sheets. Pot pourri, in porcelain, lightly scents the air on the dresser, while back notes of ylang ylang, jasmine and tuberose address the floral coronet above (this is very much an interior fragrance; those rose gardens and flower beds viewed from far off, through thick panes of glass). The perfume is so seamlessly blended however that listing notes seems superfluous. Feminine and slight initially with its touches of bergamot and lemon, it becomes more imposing as it blooms, pink and full-figured like the character played by Imelda Staunton in Harry Potter And The Order Of The Phoenix.
Royal Arms is the kind of scent I would put in the ‘comfort zone’ section of my perfume collection if I were to get a full bottle (which I would happily do): post-bath, pampered with talc, the dry down of patchouli and lightly ambered musks over vanilla, finishes a nostalic and clean English guesthouse rose that soothes and pleases, so much so that I almost wish I were back in the UK to join in the celebrations.