5 Perfumes for Moon Viewing
Tonight, the moon rises full and radiant, the harvest moon of the Mid-Autumn Festival. In many places across Asia, families gather to share tea and mooncakes, to light lanterns, to pause. I’ve always loved this idea: the celebration of something as mysterious and serene as the moon.
When I read my childhood journals from Ukraine, I find many references to it—the crescent moon I saw on Christmas Eve, the full moon glowing above a blooming cherry garden at dusk. The moon made me look up, take a breath, and let beauty flood in. It still does.
When I lived and traveled in Asia, the Mid-Autumn moon became a kind of companion. I remember sitting on a balcony in Singapore with a cup of green tea, the city humming below, the sky pale gold. One marvelous autumn in Tokyo, I experienced the scent of osmanthus mixing with the soft moonlight. And tonight, from my home in Brussels, the moon will rise again, the same moon, the same quiet invitation to look and remember.
Perfume can be part of this ritual, another way of tsukimi, moon-viewing. It’s an act of attention, of noticing what glows softly in the dark. Here is what I might choose to mark the occasion. Of course, they need not be reserved for the Mid-Autumn festival. These fragrances are perfect whenever you need a moment of quiet contemplation.
The name means “starry night,” and that’s exactly how it feels: cool pine air, a touch of mint, a whisper of resin. It reminds me of mountain evenings when the air is so clear it seems edged with silver. A scent for breathing deeply.
I can’t think of a fragrance more suited to contemplation. Après L’Ondée is the sound of rain fading, the violet air trembling with quiet emotion. It’s fragile yet luminous, like the moon when it first lifts from the horizon.
Serge Lutens Clair de Musc
A serene white musk that evokes a polished stone. Clair de Musc is about light and clarity, intimate yet distant. Sometimes I wear it when I need a sense of simplicity and stillness, like clearing the mind before meditation.
Diptyque Fleur de Peau
The moon reflected on skin, tender and infinitely gentle. Iris, musk, and sandalwood seed merge into something that feels like a breath. I love how it transforms over hours, becoming softer, closer, like the fading echo of a shared thought.
A perfume of restraint and mystery. Its green, cool aldehydes open like a sharp intake of night air before turning velvety and introspective. Silence feels like the shadow side of the moon, composed, secret, and oddly comforting.
To watch the moon, to choose a perfume, to sit for a while in the quiet—these are small rituals of presence. Each year I return to them, and each year they remind me that beauty doesn’t demand to be understood. It only asks to be noticed.
What fragrance will you wear tonight, as the moon climbs above your window?