Spritz your way to a seven-scent wardrobe

THe advantage of being middle-aged is that you know who you are, for better or worse, and tend to have accepted it. By extension, you also know how you hope to look, how you want to live, and who you care to have around you. But do you know how you would like to smell?

Smell may be our most neglected sense, but it is also our most primitive. We think of ourselves as evolved beyond our animal state, yet the average human is said to be able to distinguish one trillion odours.

Plus, it is a sense that can never be turned off, unless by a medical crisis such as Covid. As too many people have discovered of late, life without the ability to follow our noses is rendered flat, cheerless, fundamentally lacking.

All of which means that, if you discover your signature scent, you unleash a superpower — the most mighty expression of yourself that you can project without uttering a single word.

I say signature scent, but most women have a signature genre — a perfume family that they find themselves drawn towards.

The three principal groups are: floral, oriental (musky, spicy and exotic), and chypre (citrus top notes, floral heart, mossy underbelly). There can be some crossover between these camps. However, in the main, straightforward floral types tend to turn up their noses at overcomplicated chypre lovers, and vice versa, while both find oriental fans vampily OTT.

AT Our great age, your penchants will probably be clear. If not, head to Harrods’ sixth-floor Salon de Parfums and seek out Kevin Vandewalle on the Guerlain counter, who can steer you through the French perfume house’s guided quest.

Or book a session with Claire Slaney at Les Senteurs, the incredible perfumery in London’s Belgravia.

John Lewis’s beauty hall is also a cornucopia, and I strongly recommend finding your way to a Chanel or Hermes boutique and losing yourself among the specialist collections they don’t release more widely. Glorious olfactory adventures await.

From here you can construct your ‘fragrance wardrobe’: the seven or so scents that the average woman is said to keep in her arsenal.

Only yours won’t be a random assembly made up of birthday presents and fragrances bought during flits through duty free. It will be a treasure trove of delight that you can call on to get you through life’s ups and downs.

My own perfume wardrobe comprises 11 of the thousands of flacons that have passed through my hands over 20 years of writing on the subject, and a lifetime of perfume passion.

At the top sit my two great loves. First, Guerlain’s Derby, a sublimely elegant chypre, composed of spice, Indian woods and carnation notes, drying down to a base of patchouli, birch, and leather — a sensual and intimate scent. With it comes Chanel’s Sycomore (£169 for 75ml, chanel. com), an authentic, stark, woody scent that turns gloriously grubby on account of its earthy vetiver heart. Derby is my tender, private self, shared with my loved ones; Sycomore is my public guise: ballsy, assertive, assured.

I have included no price for Derby because it is being discontinued — a tragedy so profound I can’t let myself think about it. Please join me in pleading with house nose Thierry Wasser to save this masterpiece.

In the wake of this duo are three more chypres: Clinique’s Aromatics elixir (£26 for 10ml, clinique.co.uk), rien by État Libre d’Orange (£82 for 50ml, les senteurs.com) and Duel by Goutal (£132, libertylondon.com).

Then I have three gentler, airier options for when I need soothing: Guerlain’s Apres L’Ondee (£91, johnlewis.com), Chanel’s Jersey (£169 for 75ml, chanel.com) and Hermes’s Terre d’Hermes (£59 for 50ml, johnlewis.com).

Next comes a ball-breaker for moments when I need to kick a*** — Caron’s Poivre aka Coup de Fouet, and my travel scent, Ormonde Jayne’s Montabaco (£110, ormondejayne.com).

Finally, in the 11th slot, I keep a space for my latest obsession, new or rediscovered.

Don’t think of your perfume wardrobe as a chore, think of it as the greatest gift you can give yourself; a game to be played for the rest of your days. For you contain multitudes, and so should your aromatic options.