I was surprised to find out the other day that stephanotis is the same thing as jasmine madagascar. Perhaps I knew this already and forgot. But there is something very Englishy about stephanotis; all floral coronated trellises and nuptial shepherdesses, whereas the latter comes from Madagascar, an entirely different visual; the home of wide-eyed lemurs, chameleons; ylang ylang and vanilla vines.
The potted Japanese stephanotises I have on my balcony, now creeping everywhere and clasping onto other plants, when flowering late in August and early September, have a white, truculent texture; slightly spongey
; steadfast and moony, rather than triumphant and fragrantissimo, like the related but contrasting French jasmine de Grasse and its permanent blooming state of plenary ecstacy.
As written on the bottle of Culpeper Stephanotis, this traditional, bright but almost unassuming flower for the new bride is ‘sweet-smelling, young and fresh’, a quality that certainly comes through in the slightly faded tincture left in the bottle bequeathed to me from Emma this summer after she had done a nostalgic clear out of old teenage bathroom drawers. The note of stephanotis in this simple is the same one in the beautiful Nocturnes by Caron (see my original review); similar also, to the more pungent and blowsy version found in the vintage Floris (more powdery, sandalwood orange blossom; allegedly first sold in 1786!, with a proud trumpeting of bolstered stephanotis heady in the heart and head). Niche house Grandiflorum also has its own more subtle and moonlit evocation of the flowers, Madagascan Jasmine https://theblacknarcissus.com/2016/06/21/madagascan-jasmine-by-grandiflora-2015/– see the original review for that lifelike, strange and green stephanotis perfume here.
Nocturnes, an aldehydic white floral and personal favourite, was once savaged by Luca Turin as being a perfume that should never have existed (ie purposeless, and very wrong and conservatively boring in some way – comparing it to a beauty pageant in Texas : for some reason he just absolutely detested it) but I always thought it gorgeous; both ceremonious – in the sense of ‘I am really putting on some perfume tonight’ – yet also intimate, alluring, and discreet.
Much, in fact, like the captured flowers in this old Culpeper stephanotis. Silently outreaching at nighttime couched in green. Translucent and glowing.
I admit to never having sniffed anything labelled stephanotis & didn’t realise it was a species of jasmine. I’ll be more aware now.
If your first floral photo is the Japanese stephanotis, it looks just as you describe it. As if carved from white sponge
I didn’t know it was a species of jasmine either
I am slightly shocked by my own favourite late discovery as well
but maybe it’s not a jasmine after all and a horticulturalist or botanist can shed some white floral light
Stephanotis floribunda is also known as S. jasminoides. Although both scientific and common names suggest it is a relative of jasmine, S. floribunda is more closely related to the American milkweed.
So there.
On Luca Turin: he thinks TommyGirl is a masterpiece 🙄
It was never a favourite I must confess.
Thanks for the stephanotis clarification !
Stephanotis floribunda is also known as S. jasminoides. Although both scientific and common names suggest it is a relative of jasmine, S. floribunda is more closely related to the American milkweed.
So there.
On Luca Turin: he thinks TommyGirl is a masterpiece 🙄
Oops, looks like I hiccuped