I love the idea of cherry fragrances – I find the fruit, its aesthetic, the juicy, sharp taste and depth of colour appealing. But even now, as cherry perfumes go viral – some fine examples among them – I can’t quite find one that maintains the sourness while holding the sugar. But if, unlike me, you favour a sweet scent, there’s never been a better time to pop one’s cherry.

Top of the tree is Van Cleef & Arpels’ new Moonlight Cherry. I approached with trepidation, but stayed for the bitter espresso notes and the sexy whiff of plump, boozy cocktail cherries steeping in the bottom of a glass, swollen from hard liquor. Elegant and complex, this smells very expensive (and at £164, albeit for a large 75ml bottle, it is), gender neutral and distinctly “black tie” in dress code. I doubt I’ll be wearing it myself (I’ve never had a sweet tooth), but if it wafted past me at a party, I’d follow its heady trail. Just beautiful.

Zara’s Cherry Smoothie is different in every way. At just £12.99 for 30ml, it’s been designed for a younger, less bold consumer, and though sweet, it has avoided the cloying melted Haribo route taken by others in the market. This is a dry powder-puff fragrance that I find surprisingly charming. Think airborne cherry sherbet, washing powder, a hint of ripe plums for body and a subtle whiff of vintage makeup. It is unsophisticated, but has a gentle, innocent quality that makes it a very easy wear for casual, low-key days (sadly not by me though, since my husband loathed it).

Similarly uncomplicated, but way more raucous and fun, is Sweet Tooth Cherry Baby (£24.99) by Sabrina Carpenter, a singer that I know practically nothing about except that she was loved for her matching hip flask and gown ensemble at the Grammys. This is an unabashed cherry bomb – or rather an undiluted Rowntree’s jelly of a fragrance. Sugary, concentrated, stickily fruity, it gets yet more sweetness from vanilla that cannot be grounded by the musky, woody base. Bold, juicy, maybe a little bit screechy – it’s a riot.

Juliette from Juliette Has a Gun (£100 for 50ml) is a delight. It is still sweet, but has an airiness, like a cherry bakewell tart served at a breezy picnic. There’s stacks of sexy, sophisticated jasmine made playful by soft spices and Snickers-bar nuttiness. Feminine, unusual and vintage in feel, this is exactly what I imagine Twin Peaks’ Audrey Horne wearing while she performed her famous in-mouth knot-tying of a cherry stalk.