Daffodils, Lilies, and Mum.

  • Posted on 24th February 2015 by Nick

  • Mothering Sunday in the UK falls in March, at the beginning of springtime. We thought we'd celebrate with a series of guest blogs celebrating mothers, daughters and friendships.
    Our first blog comes from our very own fragrance Ambassador, Nick Gilbert.

    Thinking back on our Mother's Day traditions, Mum would take a well deserved lay-in whilst my brother and I would make Mum a cup of tea and toast to have in bed. We also picked sunny yellow Daffodils, as they were always in bloom for Mothering Sunday, and presented them to Mum. She'd be touched by the gesture for a few moments, which would quickly turn to annoyance that we had taken them from the front garden (sorry Mum!)

    Daffodils aren't Mum's favourite flowers. She's obsessed with Lilies, and for as long as I can remember there's been a fresh bouquet in the living room: in fact, I can't smell Lilies anywhere without being transported immediately to Mum's living room. For me, lilies don't have the negative connotation, but instead relate to comfort and Mum's cooking (my favourite: toad in the hole with roast potatoes).

    I think my Mum is the most amazing Mum on the planet, which I'm sure everybody says. She always put a brave face on for us as kids, and even as adults when she was going through serious illness and the long road to recovery, but taught the importance of honesty and saying how you feel. She instilled a work ethic in me and arranged the interview for my first weekend job (without my knowledge), which is how I started out in the perfume world. Pretty much every day now, I say or do things and wonder when I became my Mum. Not that I mind too much, because she's amazing. I'm sure I was a pain in the neck at some points, and still can be now (I have a chronic tendency to forget to reply to texts), but despite it all she's always loved me for who I am and supported me. I moved to London 4 years ago to continue my career in the world of perfumery. If ever I'm missing home, I just have to stop by a florist (or a train station, as florists seem to exist in every mainline station in London...) and get a nosefull of lilies in all their rich, spicy, hypnotic glory to be transported back home, feeling content and loved.
    Happy Mother's Day, Tina. I promise not to forget to bring some new perfume with me next time I'm home.

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