Blue Banisters in bloom

Four scents inspired by Lana's most underrated album and more

Blue Banisters is the lost daughter of Lana Del Rey’s discography. She slipped out quietly in 2021, nestled between the wack backlash of Chemtrails and the widespread acclaim of Ocean Blvd. Written during lockdown and her first album without Jack Antonoff since Lust for Life, Blue Banisters feels more private, less stylized. Vocally, it’s by far her strongest record. On it, she sounds intimate, breathy, and occasionally undone (“I don’t wanna liveeeeee”), like she’s singing to herself, or to someone she used to be. Blue Banisters feels like the chic older sister of Ultraviolence. And what other Lana album has a stronger thesis statement than this one: “I just wanted it to be there,” she said in an interview, “in case anyone was ever curious for any information.” Precisely the kind of thought underpinning this very substack!

Lana’s always had a love affair with blue—“Blue Jeans,” “blue hydrangeas,” “blue nail polish,” “Blue Velvet,” “blue skies forever,” “blue eyes and jazz and attitude”—and here it’s powdery and fragrant. While Norman Fucking Rockwell smells like Laurel Canyon in the ’70s, and Honeymoon is lipstick in a velvet jewelry box, Blue Banisters is a bouquet left out overnight. Flowers haunt the album. Lana trades violets for roses, sings to her cherry blossom, becomes a wildflower. The sheets smell like gardenias, dry flowers sit on the dresser, and Larchmont Village smells like lily of the valley. The florals here are soft, domestic, and a little ghostly, just like her most vulnerable work to date.

Tears by Régime des Fleurs

“You name your babe Lilac Heaven,” Lana sings on Blue Banny, “After your iPhone 11.” Tears is that lyric: ethereal lilacs, delicate and slightly cheeky. Orris and rosewater drift in like a spring breeze through sheer curtains, just cool enough to make you gasp. The grass is wet from the morning fog. You’re barefoot in a white gown, spinning in circles while your friend films you for the ‘gram. Someone on TikTok said this perfume smells like “the most beautiful and saddest girl in the room,” and who is that if not Elizabeth Woolridge Grant?

Sparkly or fluffy? Sparkly like lilac petals under the moon.
Who wears it? Girls who are pretty when they cry.
Song on Blue Banisters? “Sweet Carolina.”
Room in the house? Powder room.
Animal? Swan.
Texture? Cold lip gloss.
Signature drink? Violet syrup in sparkling water.
Color? The blue inside a bruise.
Favorite word? “Wilt.”
Angel or vampire? Angel in a slip dress.

Passage d’Enfer by L’Artisan Parfumeur

Passage d’Enfer (literally “passage to hell”) isn’t hellish in the fire-and-brimstone sense, but in the spiritual one. A quiet haunting. It’s Lana in her halo at the 2018 Grammys. It’s “Black Bathing Suit” soaked in chlorine and loss, “Arcadia” whispered like a prayer. My friend Lucy Burrows calls this scent “weaponized delicacy,” something precise enough to bruise. The lily is soft and pale, bathed in smokeless incense. The scent mirrors the album’s atmosphere: sacred, floral, restrained. Blue Banisters emerged from a pandemic that made everything feel tender and a little fake. So does this scent.

Sparkly or fluffy? Sparkly like light through stained glass.
Who wears it? Persephone at the threshold.
Song on Blue Banisters? “Arcadia.”
Room in the house? The chapel.
Animal? Silver koi.
Texture? Marble on bare feet.
Signature drink? Holy water on crushed ice.
Color? White smoke.
Favorite word? “Sacred.”
Angel or vampire? Angel who’s been to hell and back.

Mon Vetiver by Essential Parfums

I am once again Googling “what is vetiver” “vetiver pics” “how does vetiver smell” because this elusive little note ever fails to conjure up something else entirely in my imagination. It’s a “perennial bunchgrass” (lol) that’s described as smelling every which way, if we’re being honest—smoky, grassy, earthy, clean, crisp, the list goes on. This mutability is very Lana to me: she is Lanita at the taco truck and Elizabeth at the country club with her mommy issues in tow. Mon Vetiver starts feminine and dries down masculine: first it’s a blooming floral and then it transforms into this clean, green, spicy cologne that’s really best described as ‘daddy.’ A spray of this scent smells like girlhood, all Virgin Suicides and dreamy, kind of like the women who rally around Lana in the title track—the opposite of her Question for the Culture™️, if you will. It’s a gin and tonic with the ones who protect you, and then it changes into the guy who you (regrettably) call to come pick you up after too many gin and tonics.

Sparkly or fluffy? Very sparkly, very boozy.
Who wears it? Anyone whose bank account has multiple zeros and commas in all the right places.
Song on Blue Banisters? “Blue Banisters.”
Room in the house? The wraparound porch for afternoon cocktails.
Animal? Fawn.
Texture? Grass ripped out of the ground by your fists.
Signature drink? A very cold gimlet, extra lime.
Color? Dark blue sky at dawn in summer.
Favorite word? “Promise?”
Angel or vampire? Angel who turns into a vampire after a few too many.

Ghost Flowers by SYD Botanica

Ghost Flowers doesn’t chase, she doesn’t attract, she haunts. A pale floral caught in a wet, blossoming forest, a milk bath for all your past selves. As your skin warms, the indole, fir, and ambrette begin to stir. Something faintly animalic wakes up, feral and slightly off. She’s translucent, sentimental, half-alive. “What you tell no one, you can tell me, Little Ghost,” Lana sings, and this ethereal whisper of a perfume just might conjure that ghost.

Sparkly or fluffy? Fluffy like moth wings on your cheek.
Who wears it? The kind of girl who walks into a lake on purpose.
Song on Blue Banisters? “Cherry Blossom.”
Room in the house? The attic.
Animal? White mouse.
Texture? Dew on a spiderweb.
Signature drink? Rainwater in a porcelain teacup.
Color? Fog.
Favorite word? “Hush.”
Angel or vampire? Vampire in white.

📸📸📸Camera Roll 📸📸📸

Lana for Galore (2014) to be paired with White Diamonds by Elizabeth Taylor.

Lana tweeting at Azealia Banks to be paired with Sombre by Strangers Parfumerie.

Lana shot by Nicole Nodland in 2010 to be paired with Flor Y Canto by Arquiste.

Lana tanning on the set of Tropico thinking about being embodied and feeling in love even if the relationship is not perfect to be paired with Etat Libre d'Orange Jasmin et Cigarette.