The Instruments

A modern masculine reference point. Fresh, woody, widely liked without being boring. Works in most situations — office, date, gym, funeral. If you own one fragrance, this is defensible. Iso E Super provides that “can’t quite place it” magnetism.

A widely worn men’s fragrance. Ambroxan-forward, fresh-spicy, projects hard. Polarizing among enthusiasts but popular with most others. If compliments are your goal, this is a dependable choice.

The modern feminine classic. Fresh, floral, slightly spicy — sophisticated without being matronly. The patchouli base gives it depth; the orange keeps it bright. Two decades on, still a reference point for many feminine fragrances.

A well-loved budget classic. Fresh, aquatic, clean — and made by Maurice Roucel, who also created Musc Ravageur for Frédéric Malle. A reminder that price doesn’t determine quality. A good summer scent. Inoffensive. Money well spent.

Mediterranean freshness in a bottle. Neroli, citrus, amber — clean and slightly sweet. Created by Alberto Morillas, the nose behind Acqua di Giò. It smells better than its modest price suggests. Office-appropriate, date-worthy, genuinely versatile.

Zara’s hidden gem. Sweet, slightly boozy, reminiscent of Paco Rabanne 1 Million. The caramel-cinnamon opening settles into a warm amber base. Legitimately good — not “good for the price,” just good. Club-ready.

A landmark modern rose. Massive Turkish rose absolute over patchouli, incense, and sandalwood. Long-lasting (the house’s reading). Commands attention. A masterpiece, to our nose.

Woody, slightly smoky, undeniably fresh. Pine needles and bergamot open into a vanilla-sandalwood base. One of the fragrances that made Byredo’s name. Easy to wear, easy to remember. The scent of expensive hotels and people who read literary fiction.

The smell of Brooklyn, SoHo, and many an upscale hotel lobby. Cardamom, violet, sandalwood, leather — smoky, androgynous, ubiquitous. So popular it’s almost cliché. But it became cliché because it’s genuinely excellent. A modern signature scent.

Named for the hot Saharan wind. Tobacco, hay, honey, incense — dry sweetness without cloying. Christopher Sheldrake created liquid North Africa. Coumarin and benzoin provide the backbone; tobacco leaf provides the soul. A favorite oriental of ours.

Medieval cathedral in a bottle. Frankincense, myrrh, and cold stone. Part of the Incense Series — Comme des Garçons’ meditation on sacred spaces. Not conventionally “wearable” but utterly transporting. Close your eyes and you’re in a 12th-century nave. Art perfumery at its best, to our nose.

Animalic florals done fearlessly. Jasmine sambac, tuberose, and civet create something almost uncomfortably carnal. Not for the timid. Liz Moores crafted a fragrance that smells like desire itself. A favorite modern animalic of ours. Polarizing, unforgettable, magnificent.

SUMMER: The Italian citrus cologne, first made in 1916. Sicilian citrus, lavender, rosemary — the smell of Mediterranean mornings. Light enough for scorching heat, sophisticated enough for dinner on the coast.

WINTER: Christmas in a bottle. Tobacco leaf, tonka bean, vanilla, spices — sweet, warm, enveloping. Projects aggressively in cold air. Helped popularize the gourmand-tobacco style. A modern classic that will make you smell like success and poor decisions.

SPRING: Green mango, lotus, and sycamore fig from Jean-Claude Ellena’s journey down the Nile. Watery, vegetal, utterly refreshing. Smells like a garden after rain. An original, wearable fragrance of the 2000s. Quintessential spring freshness.