Top Notes 
Blood orange
Neroli
Heart Notes 
Stargazer lily
Base Notes 
French vanilla
Musk
05/20/2025
ClaireV
958 Reviews
ClaireV
1
Florist's fridge floral
Bluebird is a classic ‘florist’s fridge’ floral, opening with the intoxicatingly green whoosh of scent that greets you when you walk into a flower shop. It is generally hard to maintain the aroma of snapped stems, pollen, plant sap, and dewy petals without devolving into a chemical soup further on down the line. To its credit, Bluebird manages to keep its botanical mimicry fresh and natural for much longer than is the norm. No one flower stands out, except for perhaps the salty greenness of lily and a soapy muguet. There is also a touch of the famous Olivine gardenia in the drydown. For much of the first half of the scent’s life, the texture is moist, cold, and crunchy. Super satisfying. But when a clean white musk moves in to keep the muguet going a little longer, Bluebird begins its inexorable slide into the scent of those prim, rose-shaped guest soaps that always look better than they perform.
This freshly-scrubbed aspect seems to be a necessary evil in scents with this ‘botanical’ type of opening. I have experienced it in everything from Diorissimo and Lys Méditerranée to Carnal Flower. Certain green floral notes are just too delicate or too juicy to sustain themselves without something sturdy holding them up – and unfortunately, that something is almost always white musk. In Bluebird, the trajectory from the rich dewiness of the start to the soapy, almost air-freshener is no less disappointing for being expected. However, if you are able to lower your expectations to account for the ‘indie oil’-ness of Bluebird, it stands as one of the better examples of its kind.
This freshly-scrubbed aspect seems to be a necessary evil in scents with this ‘botanical’ type of opening. I have experienced it in everything from Diorissimo and Lys Méditerranée to Carnal Flower. Certain green floral notes are just too delicate or too juicy to sustain themselves without something sturdy holding them up – and unfortunately, that something is almost always white musk. In Bluebird, the trajectory from the rich dewiness of the start to the soapy, almost air-freshener is no less disappointing for being expected. However, if you are able to lower your expectations to account for the ‘indie oil’-ness of Bluebird, it stands as one of the better examples of its kind.
