The deeper I’ve gotten into perfumery, the less importance I put on a published note list.
And owning and smelling a lot of originals and clones really drove that home for me.
Take Creed Aventus and Armaf Club de Nuit Intense Man. You can put their note lists next to each other and see a lot of the same ideas—citrus, pineapple, blackcurrant, birch, woods, musk, amber.
Now take Louis Vuitton Imagination and Zara Sunrise on the Red Sand Dunes. Again, you’re dealing with that same general citrus, ginger, amber, clean and fresh territory.
But here’s my point:
A note list isn’t a formula.
You can duplicate every note somebody publishes and still not duplicate the fragrance.
“Pineapple” isn’t necessarily pineapple oil sitting in a bottle somewhere. “Leather” doesn’t mean somebody squeezed a leather jacket into the formula. A lot of what we call notes are accords or simply the perfumer’s interpretation of an aroma.
Give two perfumers the same list—bergamot, pineapple, birch, woods and musk—and you can end up with two completely different fragrances.
The materials matter. The aroma chemicals matter. The quality matters. The proportions matter. The construction matters. And most importantly, the perfumer’s interpretation matters.
This is one reason I think people get too caught up in Fragrantica note pyramids.
Most of us can’t smell a fragrance blind and accurately identify 12 or 15 individual notes anyway. We smell the overall composition.
We might say it’s citrusy. Woody. Smoky. Sweet. Green. Spicy. Creamy. Fresh.
Then we look at the note breakdown and suddenly we’re smelling Sicilian bergamot harvested on a Tuesday morning.
😂 Come on.
I’ve owned hundreds of clones, and that’s actually taught me to pay less attention to whether the clone copied the published notes and more attention to whether it captured the actual fragrance.
Because that’s what a clone is really trying to reproduce.
Not the note list.
The smell.
And even when a clone gets extremely close, it’s still an interpretation of somebody else’s composition. Maybe the opening is sharper. Maybe the woods are rougher. Maybe the original transitions better. Maybe the clone projects more. Maybe one ingredient is emphasized differently.
That’s perfumery.
Notes give us a vocabulary for talking about what we’re smelling, and they’re useful as a general road map. I’m not saying they’re meaningless.
I’m saying the finished composition matters a hell of a lot more than the list printed underneath it.
So when somebody tells me two fragrances have the exact same notes, my response is simple:
So what? How do they smell?
That’s the part that matters.
“Even trained perfumers can’t simply sniff a finished fragrance and reliably identify every note or material in the formula. Once dozens of materials are blended together, what we perceive is often the overall accord rather than each ingredient individually.”
For the average untrained person, it’s even more dramatic: studies of common everyday odors have often found surprisingly poor naming accuracy, around half correct under some testing conditions. And it is much worse with perfume notes.
And this is probably the best way I can sum up my whole point about fragrance notes.
Take your favorite fragrance reviewers—and yes, even trained perfumers—put a fragrance in front of them completely blind, give them no bottle, no brand, no Fragrantica page and no published note breakdown, and ask them to write down every note they smell.
I would bet you would see a whole lot of different answers, and plenty of those individual note guesses would be wrong.
That isn’t because they don’t know perfumery. It’s because that’s not really how smelling a finished perfume works.
Once dozens of materials are blended together, we’re smelling accords, effects and the composition as a whole. Citrus. Woods. Smoke. Leather. Amber. Something green. Something fruity. We aren’t necessarily smelling every individual material that created those effects.
Then show everyone the official note list and suddenly everybody can smell the exact same bergamot, saffron, jasmine, cedar and whatever else the brand told us was there.
Funny how that works.
So when I see people comparing an original and a clone by saying, “Look, they have the exact same notes,” that really doesn’t tell me much.
A note list isn’t a formula. It isn’t an ingredient list. And it certainly isn’t the fragrance.
Take away the note pyramid, smell it blind, and let your nose tell you what’s actually there. That’s when you find out how much of what we think we’re smelling comes from the fragrance—and how much comes from what we’ve already been told we’re supposed to smell.