Chasing Honeysuckle — and Finally Finding It

Hilary Burke
Apr 29
2 min read

Over Spring Break, we stayed at a beautiful resort along the Southern California coast, and our balcony was surrounded by blooming honeysuckle bushes. Ever since, I’ve been on the hunt for the perfect summer fragrance that captures that exact scent.

And let me tell you—I’ve kissed a lot of frogs in the honeysuckle category. They either lean fake and rubbery (instant headache), or they’re overloaded with heavy white florals like tuberose—too sweet, too thick, and completely overwhelming.

It turns out there’s a reason for that.

Honeysuckle produces very little extractable oil, so perfumers often have to recreate it synthetically. And when that balance is off, it can go sharp, artificial, and honestly… unpleasant.

But in nature?

Honeysuckle is something else entirely.

It’s soft, nectar-like, and quietly intoxicating—the kind of scent that lives in warm summer evenings. Green, honeyed, slightly fruity, sometimes even a little powdery—like jasmine, but gentler.

Sun-drenched.

Comforting.

It blooms stronger at night to attract pollinators, earning its nickname: nature’s candy.

And that’s exactly what I’ve been chasing. And I think—I finally found it.

In House of Brandt’s Summer Street.

Yay. Truly.

At first, I wasn’t sold.

On paper, it didn’t fully land for me. I didn’t get it.

But on skin—over the course of our vacation—it completely transformed.

And now? I’m in love.

Summer Street opens with a bold blend of apricot jam and bergamot, layered with blackcurrant and davana—bright, slightly boozy, and just rich enough to catch your attention without overwhelming.

(And yes… this is where I thought we might take a hard left into plastic town.)

We do not.

Instead, the davana adds this beautiful herbaceous warmth—slightly sweet, slightly dried-fruit, almost golden—that really sets the tone.

Then comes the heart—and this is where the magic happens.

Honeysuckle. Done right. Finally.

It’s paired with night-blooming jasmine, lily of the valley, and rose (though I barely get the rose), and together they create this lush, glowing floral moment.

The jasmine here is key—it’s not overly powdery or sharp, it's more sultry, with a subtle green-fruity edge that keeps everything grounded and natural. I genuinely think this is what keeps the honeysuckle from tipping into that synthetic territory.

It just… works.

And the base is where everything softens and settles.

Benzoin, cedarwood, vanilla, and Spanish honey create a creamy, lightly resinous foundation with a hint of warmth—almost balsamic, with a whisper of spice. There’s a soft, milky sweetness that rounds out the florals without turning sugary.

On my skin, it becomes this creamy, slightly powdery, sun-kissed scent that wears close—like a true skin scent—but still lingers in the most beautiful way.