
My grandmother always smelled of flowers. As a child, I would wander into her floral-scented dressing room and find the air infused with lavender and rose. Her perfectly kept wooden chiffonier was lined with delicate bottles of Cristalle by Chanel and Anaïs Anaïs by Cacharel, beside her equally fragrant hairbrush, soft pastel lipsticks, and lilac-scented talcum powder. The memory of that scent became so ingrained that every time I smelled a delicate floral fragrance, I was reminded of her, conjuring the image of her as I had always seen her—impossibly graceful, elegant, and deeply feminine.
Over the years, I noticed that people often stopped to compliment her when we strolled through Delhi’s Priya Complex after a coffee, or at an army party where I was a reluctant guest. It became clear that the world saw her the same way I did.
The seeds of this experiment had always been there. I found myself noticing how a particularly audacious amber perfume would make me feel sexy, or how I would reach for my Burberry Brit when stepping out for a fun, girly lunch. I also began to take note of people’s reactions: Men leaned in a little closer when I wore Louis Vuitton’s Fleur Du Désert while women complimented me in bathrooms when I wore the classic Issey Miyake. I had long believed that different notes awakened different aspects of my personality, but I had never tested that theory in a deliberate way—until now.
For this experiment, I wore a different fragrance every night for a week, selecting one from each of the four major fragrance families, as well as one quintessential men’s fragrance. I also matched my clothing to the fragrance bottles as best I could. Then, I took note of how wearing each fragrance made me feel and how other people reacted to me in the social settings I was in. The results were fascinating.
ORIENTAL (SPICY)
Yes I Am | Cacharel
Notes: Mandarin Zest, Raspberry, Ginger Flower, Jasmine, Sandalwood, Cardamom I wore this fragrance to a friend’s birthday dinner, pairing it with a black dress and red lipstick to reflect its bold, lipstick-shaped bottle. The fragrance was intense, with top notes of citrus fruit giving way to spices that bordered on too much, but never quite crossed the line. It was a departure from my usual dark floral preferences, but I enjoyed stepping out of my comfort zone. The spices felt like discovering a dessert I would never have chosen, yet found surprisingly delightful.
That evening, I found myself moving more deliberately, less animated than usual, and adopting a more mysterious, enigmatic sensuality. My conversations shifted from bubbly and vibrant to more thoughtful and intimate, and the people around me mirrored this change in their interactions.
FLORAL
L’amour Lalique | Lalique
Notes: Neroli, Bergamot, Rose, Jasmine, Gardenia, Tuberose, Musk, Cedar
This fragrance was a perfect fit for me, striking all the right notes. I’m truly my grandmother’s granddaughter, but with a modern twist. While I love floral scents, I tend to favour stronger, more potent ones like Narciso For Her or Byredo Rose Noir.
L’amour Lalique was lighter and fresher, with top notes of neroli and a layer of tuberose and gardenia. It was an ideal choice for an afternoon tea with my book agent at a charming, rose-themed café. The scent felt light on my skin, ideal for a surprisingly warm February afternoon. It matched my outfit—a floral dress I hadn’t worn in years, with a playful swing to the skirt. The fragrance and my outfit evoked a girlishness in my smile, and I noticed how my mannerisms became more delicate, from the way I laughed to how I tucked a stray curl behind my ear. Later, two girls stopped me outside the café, asking for the details of the dress I had relegated to the back of my closet for so long.
GOURMAND (SWEET)
So Sweet | Lolita Lempicka
Notes: Raspberry Leaf, Sour Cherry, Mandarin Orange, Angelica, Cashmeran, Amberwood
I must admit, I was initially dreading this category. I’ve never been able to take a gourmand fragrance seriously, dismissing its sweet notes as cloying and juvenile. But I had underestimated how some gourmand fragrances can break the mould, adding unexpected layers of complexity. So Sweet did just that, with a touch of angelica, cashmere, and whipped musk cutting through the sweet cherry notes. The fragrance felt fuller than any of the others, unapologetically bold in its sweetness. I wore it to a party in a scarlet dress that matched the candy-red bottle. At first, I felt reticent, as though the combination of fragrance and dress were louder than I was used to. But as the night wore on, I grew more comfortable with occupying space in a way I hadn’t before. At the party, I was approached by far more strangers than usual, with people looking at me more often than they typically would.
WOODY (MUSK)
Sparkling Love | Chopard
Notes: Osmanthus, Bergamot, Jasmine Sambac, Ylang-Ylang, Helvetolide, Cedar
I’ve always admired woody fragrances from afar, admiring the women who wear them, but never reaching for them myself. It’s not that I dislike them–some of my all-time favourite fragrances, like Le Labo Santal 33 and Byredo Blanche, are woody musks—but I find they evoke a certain mood. I wear woody musks sparingly, as they draw out a depth and texture that no other family of scents can replicate.
I wore this Chopard fragrance with an understated Indian outfit, delicately embellished with pearls and embroidery, capturing the subtlety of the scent and the intricacy of its notes. The fragrance reflected a refinement that was mirrored in my demeanour.
I received numerous comments about how rare it was to see me in this style and how well it suited me, making me feel as if I were in a more graceful version of my own skin. Perhaps it was a coincidence, but I noticed more chivalry that evening—more chairs were pulled out for me, and doors were opened.
MEN’S
Ferragamo Intense Leather | Salvatore Ferragamo
Notes: Pink Pepper, Clary Sage, Red Apple, Iris, Leather, Oakmoss, Musk
Men’s fragrances represent an interesting phase in my life. In college, I wore men’s cologne obsessively, drawn to its rebellious air. For a few years, I embraced a more masculine style, from Brut to blazers, finding it liberating to avoid conformity. It was only later that I realised how much I truly enjoyed feminine fragrances and clothing. So, returning to that phase, even for just one night, felt nostalgic. The rich leather, oakmoss, and crisp apple notes were a masculine blast from the past.
Wearing this fragrance was perhaps the most dissociative experience of all. While the other scents evoked specific sides of me—sexy, girly, enigmatic, even over-the-top—the Ferragamo was different. It unlocked a part of me that was often kept in reserve–audacious and commanding. It was an association I was hoping not to make, but given that I wore it with a sleek, dark teal dress (to complement the bottle, of course), as well as for a work dinner, added to the in-charge energy the fragrance brought out in me. I felt less of the imposter syndrome I usually experience at work dinners and found myself networking with people I might otherwise have avoided. The unusual ingredients helped me step outside my usual boundaries.
The experiment was a fascinating exercise in understanding how much scent can impact our behaviour. The way I saw myself, the way I dressed, how I carried myself, and how I engaged with others were all influenced by my choice of fragrance. And that, in turn, affected how people responded to me. The differences in experience were nuanced, but real. So, the next time you choose a fragrance, think about what it will evoke for you. A fragrance can be a powerful tool...if you use it wisely.
All images: Adobestock and the brands
This article first appeared in the March-April 2025 issue of Bazaar India.
Also read: Should you marinate your clothes in perfume?