If My Favorite Perfumes Were People…

Fragrance is a distinctive combination of personal taste and collective experience. It says, “this is what I smell like because I like it... but it’s also what I smell like to everyone else in my immediate vicinity.” This poses the question: what does my perfume say about me? 

I’ve always loved the way that someone’s signature scent can paint an idiosyncratic picture of them. So, my overactive imagination and knack for romanticization has inspired the following: If my favorite perfumes were people…



Notes: bergamot, lemon, heliotrope, coconut milk, and musk

She wakes up at a leisurely 11:34 am to the sound of seagulls and the smell of lemon ricotta pancakes, soon realizing that—oops!— she fell asleep in her favorite butter yellow bikini, yet again. At this point, she doesn’t mind the sand in her sheets; it’s a comforting reminder that the days of tanning, swimming, and sailing have no conclusion in sight. Before noon she’s already gone from bed to beach, walking barefoot against the warm pavement with an overstuffed beach bag thrown over her so-tan-they’re-almost-burnt shoulders. Her linen Rive Gauche tote holds a blue striped towel, an outdated Vogue, and a waterproof speaker that’s soon to buzz with oldies. In the warm months, she lives some version of this day on repeat, switching up her destination every so often at whim. Whether it’s Malibu, Nantucket, or the South of France she always smells the same… white linen, salt air, and Ambre Soleil.


Glossier You

Notes: musk, ambrette, and ambrox for a warm, creamy base, fresh top notes of earthy, green iris root and spicy, sparkling pink

As a self-proclaimed aesthete, her incredibly chic bathroom—with it’s clawfoot tub, rose onyx bathroom sink, and Byredo candles—is a personality trait at this point. Post boutique fitness class, she towel-dries her freshly washed hair while sipping on an iced oat milk latte in the company of her house plants. Somehow, she always smells as if she’s just rolled out of a long, hot bubble bath: effortlessly, luxuriously clean.


Le Labo Thé Noir 29

Notes: Bergamot, fig, bay leaves, cedar wood, vetiver and musk.

Her go-to outfit is an oversized blazer, cigarette pants, and 115mm Manolo Blahnik pumps; a look that makes you wonder, “Is she a blogger or a lawyer?” You often see her walking her turtleneck sweater-wearing, regal but nonetheless poorly behaved Greyhound, Hugh, around Le Marais. Hugh’s leash gets tangled around the legs of the café table where they’re taking a little break from their walk. A break which is much needed, partially because her heels are so high that she can’t feel her toes anymore, but also because she wanted an affogato (it’s the only socially acceptable way to incorporate gelato into her morning). She’s something between girlish and refined, all while smelling a little like a man who has a collection of Hermes ties, an oversized candle engraved with his initials, and a library at home. The subversion is a power move, and honestly, why would she date a man that smells this good when SHE can smell this good?




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