Hot Tomato

Why perfumes are vegging out + the joy of smelling like bug spray

Are you thinking, ‘This will make a tasty sandwich’? Or ‘This should be a body spray?’ (Photo by me.)

This hasn’t exactly been a beach-frolic of a summer for me, but in lieu of, say, a Grecian getaway or an Italian road trip (that was the plan), I have a plot in my Brooklyn community garden. And it does, in many ways, serve a similar purpose. When I’m in there—yanking out interloper weeds, taming wayward pea vines, calculating the strategic lop of a zinnia—my brain empties of all thoughts, dark and otherwise. I become a creature in thrall to my senses: registering only the smell of soil and burgeoning vegetation, the heat of the sun on my back. Right now, it’s my favorite place to be. Except for the mosquitos.

There are tomatoes in this jungle, somewhere.

I’ve always loved the scent of citronella bug sprays, but this summer I have found more elevated options, so aromatically superb I have been wearing them as perfume. Heretic’s The Entomologist is a zingy blend of cedar, geranium, lemongrass, mint, and cinnamon that smells amazing and dispels buzzing blood-suckers like a charm; Diptyque brought back its fantastic Citronelle & Geranium Summer Body Spray this year as part of a limited-edition summer collection, and I urge you to buy several if you find them (it smells so good spritzed on hair); and Kate McLeod’s Bug Balm combines citrus-y insect-deflecting botanical extracts with moisturizing cocoa butter. I keep one in my purse.

Eau de bug spray x 3.

This summer’s biggest scent sensation is also one for garden lovers: Even if, like me, you’d rather be struck blind than spend time looking at TikTok, you are probably aware that we’re in the midst of a tomato-leaf takeover. There are so many tomato candles, diffusers, room deodorizers, hand soaps, dish soaps, cleaning sprays, and yes, perfumes, that we may as well be marinating in marinara sauce. Some are better than others, but because tomato leaf is such a distinctive, weird, wonderful scent it’s hard to go far wrong. Home-scent-wise, I find the Quince, Malin + Goetz, Flamingo Estate, and Loewe (don’t look at the price tag) come closest to evoking the smell of crushing fresh tomato leaves in your hand.

Currently making my apartment smell like a greenhouse full of Sun Golds: the eye-wateringly expensive Loewe Tomato Leaves Hand Soap ($90!), the Flamingo Estate Heirloom Tomato Candle, and Quince's brightly herbaceous Heirloom Tomato Diffuser.

Tomato leaves smell the way that they do thanks to tiny little hairs called trichomes, which release aromatic oils when touched. The sharp, bitter-green aroma deters insects and other critters that might intend to munch the plants, but obviously it has the opposite effect on humans. We love it. Which is funny, considering the fact that up until only about 150 years ago, a lot of people were pretty freaked out by tomatoes.