Because fragrances have been swallowed as a commodity by the cosmetic industry, we’ve not been accustomed to encounter perfume as art, and we’re mostly not well equipped to analyze scented work.

Not that I would ever want to over-intellectualize such a sensual experience, especially in these increasingly artificial times, but adding nuances to my pleasure tickles my brain in the right way. Perhaps building better olfactive critical thinking can help us develop a more meaningful relationship to perfume-as-an-artform.

This is a guide to evaluate creativity and its value (your money and your time), and build connections between ideas and our lived experience, so we will focus on the conceptual aspects of a perfume and its execution.

I might not be a trained perfume evaluator but I developed similar skills during my 20+ years spent as an art director/creative director, so I’m humbly asking the evaluators in the room to be kind (or write your own article on the topic, the more the better).

It is not a guide to find new perfumes or brands worthy of your attention, as I’m hoping that in this economy you already prioritize genuine moral and ethical stances, sustainability, diversity, inclusivity and safety as criterias to cut through the masses. We won’t be assessing the quality of branding or marketing execution and if it’s human-made - this is an entire other topic in itself, but we’re taking into consideration the information shared about a perfume.

So grab a notebook, your most recent acquisition & follow along!

Step 1.

Before experiencing a perfume, we can assess its conceptual qualities based on the name, the shared notes or impressions, the description, and any information related to the creative brief.

Concept
Is there an idea or a story at the origin of the perfume’s inception? It can be abstract or literal, as long as there’s a clear intent in bringing another perfume to life.

Is the idea opportunistic? One could argue that launching a perfume solely based on a trend is highlighting a brand’s lack of imagination and their hopes to capitalize on someone else’s creativity.

Originality
How original is the concept? Some concepts have been used often already, like a focus on perfumery notes/materials or perfumes about locations. Not to say that these starting points are not worth your attention, but it makes the following criteria all the more important for you to decide if it has creative value.

References
Is the concept referencing culture, art, zeitgeist or even the perfume industry itself? This should help contextualize if the perfume exists in a continuum (a freshie referencing the 90s) or if it’s in dialogue with other cultural or artistic production (a perfume named after a song or movie). References should add meaning to your experience by connecting the perfume to your own imagination.

Step 2.

While Smelling
As you experience the perfume, pay attention to the quality of execution and how well the perfumer used the same raw materials available to everyone to translate the concept into a unique, thoughtful and tangible artifact.

Notes
Are the notes created by the chosen materials well-suited to the narrative? Our cultural and personal associations tend to expect certain notes, like a churchy perfume with an incense note, or an ultra-feminine tuberose. Using notes in unexpected ways can add originality to execution: a churchy perfume might lead with colourful fruity notes to render the stained-glass windows, or tuberose might become unapologetically damp and stemmy.

Blending
Are the materials well blended? Can you feel their quality? Are some materials sticking out? In the age of nuclear-grade woody-ambers, perhaps this is the easiest criteria to assess. The detection of specific materials shouldn’t be the mark of a lazy trick, but should feel intentional to the whole concept.

Structure
Is the perfume unfolding in a layered or linear way? How are the different notes evolving? It can be interesting to note the cadence of a perfume as a means to convey an atmosphere. Similar to music, a perfume can offer a note motif repeated along its timeline, move towards a crescendo, or be cut into clear sections.

Density
Does the perfume feel spacious or compact? Is it textural? These qualities should draw the overall shape of the concept - we expect a perfume with makeup notes to feel powdery or creamy, a gothic-inspired creation to feel more compact. The density can also be in contrast to the core idea, adding an element of surprise to the narrative.

Projection
How would you describe the sillage? What we’re looking for is an intensity matching the idea and feeling intentional: a concept evoking introspection doesn’t need a massive aura, one distilling joy perhaps does.

Longevity
Is the longevity overall acceptable, especially of its different notes? Perfume exists in time so it needs a minimum of longevity - what that minimum should be is up to you. More interestingly, you can spot the perfumer’s mastery by sensing the ability to bind raw materials to a timeline where they naturally don’t belong: citrus notes still shining way past the opening, a rose whispering in the dry down.

Experiencing perfumes can never be fully objective, nor are the criteria presented in this guide. Hopefully, you can perceive a kind of beauty in the intentional weaving of ideas and tangible aspects, and be inspired to define your own rules for creating value in your relationship with perfumery.

Many thanks to Valeryia Hrynkevich for her input and suggestions.

Marie-Pierre Blanchette came to perfumery from years in art direction and design — the same critical instinct that shaped this piece. She’s the perfumer and founder behind Miskeo Parfums, the independent, small-batch atelier she’s run out of Berlin since 2022 and now Montreal. The name comes from the Latin miscēo — to mix, to blend — and the fragrances follow that instinct closely: minimal, built from a small set of deliberate notes rather than a long list of them. Explore Miskeo Parfums at Stéle.

Confessions at Stéle is an ongoing series.

We ask people what they really think.

The next one might surprise you.

There is often something like a symbiotic relationship between the content creator and the brand.

It’s a mutualism, much like aphids and ants, where the aphids secrete a sugar-rich, nourishing honeydew for ants in exchange for protection from predators. The brand will provide partnerships to help build the creator’s following and engagement, not to mention their own “honeydew” in the form of free promotional discovery sets or bottles. In turn, the creator offers advertising for the brand through featuring such PR in posts and reels. The aphid herds mean business, the farmer ants cultivate content.

What does it take to sustain such relationships though? When does a creator decide or brand decide that it isn’t mutually beneficial?

The responsibility of each in this relationship has been subject to much scrutiny, as there may be agreements made between the two where a creator must assure that a) content is made for PR and b) the content MUST be in favor of said product.

Herein lies the problem faced by those who consume such content.

Under the guise of “honest” reviews, much of the time it is a pact made between these two parties that is tied to the promise of more free product, or even compensation.

It’s not just large influencers who involve themselves in such transactions, even smaller “micro-influencers” and content creators with smaller follower and/or subscriber accounts take part.

Over the past few years, I myself have agreed to be a part of this ecosystem, accepting gifts from brands to whom I express an appreciation for a release after having tested them. I have often considered the ethics behind this and choose to be transparent about it whenever I feature one in my own content. It surely is an honor to be trusted with such gifts, to be regarded as having the discernment that motivates these brands and perfumers to speak on behalf of their product. More recently, I’ve accepted products for which I hadn’t yet smelled: samples, discovery sets, full bottles.

This is where I must now be frank with those offering such gifts.

I am under no obligation to create content regarding them, nor if I do, to give a positive review if my heart’s not in it. Some are understanding and scrupulous, but still others will have an immediate change of heart.

Before I assured that there was this caveat in communications, there was a brand that shall not be named (to protect the innocent or guilty or oblivious), who in conversation offered to send a full bottle of a fragrance for which I expressed a strong appreciation. It was such a kind gesture, for sure, among the first instances where I accepted such a gift. When there was a new release from the brand, the owner swiftly sent a sample for me to check out. At the time, I had no qualms about writing a review for any sample I received, and wasn’t inclined to refrain from writing one that was more critical if a certain fragrance felt short of my expectations. And I did with this one. It was shared to the platforms and discovered by the brand.

The reaction was nothing short of unnerving. I received an email from the owner, who claimed that he wasn’t sure how I received the sample, though he himself directly sent it to me just a couple weeks before. He implored that I agree to his “presenting” it to me video so that I may “better understand it” and so that he may “walk me through the dry down.” In the body of the email, he proceeded to go into great detail regarding the intention behind this fragrance, elaborating how its creation was inspired by some very personal events. It was even suggested that due to my perceptions being subjective, they might need to be fine-tuned which required understanding the concept better. It was so thoroughly disconcerting that I opted not to reply to the email. It was bullshit. This brand eventually blocked all contact with me online for my refusal to potentially change my opinion.

This is the cautionary tale. If one wants to be a truly authentic reviewer who offers critique, accepting PR has some clear challenges.

It’s up to the content creator to be clear with their communication from the very beginning on what they are and are not willing to do, lest something backfires. I really want to emphasize the word communication. Make sure it is strong and direct. On the other hand, if a creator chooses not to do so and willingly hypes up a release for the sake of engagement and ensured continued amicable relationships with brands, then yes, integrity, is in question. The satisfying “honeydew” for the sake of creating content and pleasing others *and* at the cost of forthright critique makes so many in this ecosystem suspect.

Proceed with caution when entering brand partnerships and in earning brand “ambassador” roles.

Do understand that one may question your credentials of fragrance expertise and claims of honest reviewing once you do so.

Some argue that one should tread carefully when sharing reviews of releases from smaller brands and artisan perfumers as, depending on one’s influence, it could potentially affect their business and livelihood. I can understand this concern and tend to take pause before sharing negative reviews on releases where the small outfit perhaps more at stake. Yet, there is still a part of me that feels that this may, in the long run, do more harm than good in helping these artists grow and evolve. Relying on an echo chamber of favorable reactions may yield short-term benefits but quickly lead to diminishing returns once exposure to the brand exceeds the development and refining of it. People will catch on to the quality, or lack thereof, but we all know that is another slimy, squirmy can of worms in the realm of smelly liquid discourse.

Choose to publicly critique any product at your own discretion.

We need critical voices to stand out among the chorus of approving,
even obsequious content creators and influencers.

It’s sad to say this but yes, we are in a world where honesty isn’t valued as much as status, and the aphid herds know this and will capitalize on the farmer ants who want to yield more output and earn more cachet among their cohort. I do, however, still believe that even in spite of losing popularity in certain circles or disappointing artists and businesspeople alike, honesty and authenticity wins in the end, and will earn the most prestige over time.

A line I always like to share with fellow denizens of the social media sphere:

“The only way to truly be authentic on social media
is to be willing to be disliked.”

Joseph Colbourne has spent nearly two decades collecting fragrance and a good portion of that time writing about it honestly — which, as this piece makes clear, is rarer than it should be. His work spans Substack, Instagram, and his YouTube series Effluvium. He also sat down with Stéle on Nosedive.

Confessions at Stéle is an ongoing series.

We ask people what they really think.

The next one might surprise you.

My whole life I learned from observation. There is much value in respecting what is happening in front of you enough to pay attention and learn.

Scent Blooming is what I call it. This is what I’ve watched happen.

By the time we opened Stéle in Nolita, I had watched thousands of people smell fragrances. My longest streak on shift was when I worked 90 days straight — no days off, no lunch breaks. By day 65, I was a wreck, and if I was short with you during that stretch, I genuinely apologize.

I’m not asking for sympathy. I’m telling you this so that when I say I’ve seen thousands of people smell fragrance, you understand I mean it literally.

In all that time on the floor, I noticed a particular reaction I keep returning to. I’ve started calling it Scent Blooming — and I want to explore whether it’s a real phenomenon or simply something my pattern-hungry brain invented.

The moment it starts.

I have seen this happen a thousand times. Someone takes a deep inhale, and a process begins. It deepens. It creates waves. I’d argue that as the brain is processing scent, stimulation is happening on multiple fronts simultaneously — receptors firing, memory being searched, emotion responding.

The bloom.

If a fragrance blooms positively in you — if you find yourself moving through waves of enjoyment — that is the one. The fragrance should haunt you. You should walk away and find yourself wanting to go back, because the experience keeps developing inside you even after you’ve left the floor.

That’s not weakness or indecision. That’s the bloom doing its thing.

The fast no & the slow yes.

Not every fragrance blooms, of course. Sometimes it’s an immediate, definitive no — a rejection in milliseconds. This doesn’t contradict the blooming idea; it reflects the brain’s ability to issue an early exit when the signal is strongly negative. The amygdala, which processes threat and aversion, can short-circuit the longer evaluative process when it recognizes something it categorically rejects — whether that’s a traumatic scent memory or simply a profile your system knows with certainty is wrong for you.

The full bloom never opens. The answer comes fast, and it can still leave you shaken.

A positive response is more complicated, and I think that’s precisely why so many people struggle with it. Positive recall is tentative, inquiring, layered — it opens gradually. And we’ve been conditioned, by marketing and outside influence, to distrust that unfolding feeling. We’re told not to trust our own instincts. You’re supposed to trust the ad, the influencer, not your own right as tastemaker of your own reality.

But you are. You absolutely are.

Inside the bloom.

The nose contains hundreds of distinct receptors, and the mapping of how those receptors are organized is an active and exciting area of scientific study. Some of the most compelling recent work was conducted by Sandeep (Robert) Datta, Professor of Neurobiology at Harvard’s Blavatnik Institute. His findings challenge the long-held assumption that the system is disorganized:

“Our results bring order to a system that was previously thought to lack order, which changes conceptually how we think this works.”

Working in mice, Datta’s team discovered that rather than being randomly distributed, smell receptors are arranged in a highly precise spatial map — organized into overlapping horizontal stripes from the top of the nose to the bottom, consistent across individuals:

“We show that development can achieve this feat of organizing a thousand different smell receptors into an incredibly precise map that’s consistent across animals.”

Datta’s team is now studying smell receptors in human tissue to understand how consistent this map is across species. The human anatomy of what happens next, however, is well established. Scent molecules interact with receptors in the nose, which transmit the odor signal to the olfactory bulb — located just above the nasal cavity at the underside of the frontal lobe. From there, the signal travels to the olfactory cortex in the temporal lobe of the brain.

Crucially, the olfactory cortex has direct connections to the amygdala and the hippocampus — the structures most associated with emotion and memory. And uniquely among our senses, smell largely bypasses the thalamus, the brain’s general relay station, connecting to those emotional centers almost directly.

“The sense of smell is unique compared to any of our other senses, because when we smell something, we are activating the same part of the brain that processes emotion and memory. This is why a scent can bring back memories, make you feel transported, and take you back to the original time and place when you first connected the emotion.” — Rachel Herz, PhD, neuroscientist and leading expert on the psychological science of smell

Notice the steps involved. This is not an instant process. Once you smell something, things are set in motion. The experience develops and unfolds in waves. It blooms.

The science of scent memory supports this. According to a review of clinical literature published in Brain Sciences, odors that evoke positive autobiographical memories have measurable effects: they increase positive emotions, reduce negative mood states, disrupt cravings, and lower physiological markers of stress — including systemic inflammation. The depth of what scent can do is extraordinary. This is clear evidence that smelling something can be an unfolding environmental process, not a single moment.

Try it with your friends.

Explore this process with people you trust. Find a complex fragrance and a diverse group of friends — different backgrounds, different life experiences. Give everyone a strip of paper. Have them smell and write down three things the fragrance evokes: a feeling, a specific memory, or a sensory impression. The rule is no scent notes — not “amber” or “wood” — because scent vocabulary short-circuits personal response and anchors everyone to the same reference points. We want the raw reaction, not the trained one.

Pass the papers around. See what your friends experienced versus what you did. The differences will be striking — and they should be. No two people process scent the same way, because no two people have the same interior landscape.

Use that fact as confidence. Only you can process a scent the way you do.

Only you should decide which fragrance brings you joy.

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Confessions at Stéle is an ongoing series.

We ask people what they really think.

The next one might surprise you.