A celebrity is a person who has a prominent profile and commands, Lily of the valley print is having a celebrity moment

A celebrity is a person who has a prominent profile and commands some degree of public fascination and influence in day-to-day media. The term is often synonymous with wealth (commonly denoted as a person with fame and fortune), implied with great popular appeal, prominence in a particular field, and is easily recognized by the general public.

A favourite flower of Christian Dior – the designer wore a sprig of it in his buttonhole and sewed it into the lining of dresses before they were worn on the catwalk – lily of the valley is currently enjoying another moment in the spotlight. Or, rather, on the red carpet.

A print using the pretty, bell-shaped white flower is in Dolce & Gabbana's spring collection, and, made into trousers, tops, dresses and even kimonos, it's been adopted by celebrities in a big way. Penny Lancaster wore a shift with the print on it last week, while Kylie Minogue donned a pyjama-style blouse and printed pants for a premiere of The Great Gatsby at the weekend. Helen Mirren has worn her version – a pleated knee-length number – to three different events since last December.

Why is it so popular, and why now? The print appeared in only one look for the brand's spring/summer show but it was used in around 15 designs in the commercial collection, which is traditionally more wearable.

Do you know why choosing the right perfume is so important

I was remembering the scent of Aquamanda. You must rememberAquamanda? We used to marinade ourselves in it during the early 70s. Everything I owned was saturated with the scent of orange blossom. How odd that I should remember a smell without actually smelling it. Then again, is there anything more evocative of time and place than a perfume? I bet Daisy Buchanan wasn't so much moved to tears by the sight of Gatsby's "beautiful shirts" as by the memories stirred by the scent of them – and him.

You know when there is a "something" that hovers just out of reach and you can't quite put your finger on it? While I was watching The Joy of the Single (a documentary about 45rpm records, not marital status), there was a snippet, a mere 10 seconds, of a young and svelte Roy Wood, shimmering in blue sequins, warbling Blackberry Way, and something stirred. I had a vivid recollection of my beloved sequinned Biba tank top, but that wasn't it. It was something more … sensory. A smell. It took me a whole 24 hours to finally nail it: the scent of the Biba tank top when I put it on.

Since the 70s I've worked my way from Revlon's Charlie to YSL Rive Gauche by way of Chanel Allure and a brief infatuation with Armani Acqua di Gioia – and thence to Chanel No 5 – which my daughters still call "Mummy Smell". I can't honestly recall it, but I know my own mum favoured Worth's Je Reviens. My nan sprayed everything (and everybody) with lavender water or 4711 eau de cologne. I've learned that although I adore the scent of roses I cannot abide tuberose and that, for some reason, Nina Ricci's L'Air du Temps brings me out in spots. I'm not fickle with my perfumes – it turns out that I am one of those people who remains loyal to a handful of favourites and in my case those are currently Chanel No 5,