Who’s Talking About Smelling?
The current crop of perfume commentators
I write about the science of scent and occasionally about the fragrance industry, but I don’t review perfumes. That used to be a big deal back in the Iron Age of blogging, before X and IG basically killed the blogger. But now long-form fragrance reviews are making a comeback on Substack, and I thought I’d highlight a few that you might find worth following.
(Here are my criteria: I look for reviewers who describe fragrances well, i.e., they call out individual notes and overall character, initial impressions as well as drydown, and they mention similar perfumes. They place the fragrance in a context—of a trend, brand, or particular perfumer. They do not inflate their reviews with arch references and high-flown adjectives.)
First up is Dariush Alavi, who describes himself thusly:
a writer and award-winning perfume critic currently living in the south of England. On this site, you’ll find my thoughts on literature, film, the strange quirks of human behaviour and all the other things that keep me up in the middle of the night. I also plan to share some of my fiction with you. And of course there will be plenty of posts about perfume — the subject about which I’ve been writing for well over 10 years under the pseudonym Persolaise.
Alavi’s substack is paywalled ($6/mo, $55/yr) but you can sign up for a week of free access to get a sense of it. A good example of his style is this brisk and bracing review of Christian Dior’s Bois Talisman by Francis Kurkdjian:
It all seems to have gone a bit topsy turvy in the world of Captain Kurk. His latest version of Dior Homme was a pleasant surprise, displaying a real attempt to move the scent away from the crassness of mainstream masculine releases and back in the direction of the 2005 original. Kurky, for his own Maison Francis Kurkdjian, fits that brand’s slick, urban aesthetic extremely well. I realise many have complained that it’s little more than a sweet musk, and I don’t expect it to end up on anybody’s Top 10 Of The Year lists, but I maintain that it’s attractive precisely because it’s simple and because it happens to make use of gorgeous musks. However, in the very area where we might expect Kurkdjian to let loose and flex his creative muscles — Dior’s high-end Collection Privee — he’s producing some decidedly lacklustre pieces of work. Bois Talisman is the latest disappointment.
Next is Alice Du Parcq, whose paywalled substack ($7/mo, $70/yr) is called The Perfume Playground.
I’m an award-winning fragrance presenter, writer and content creator on a mission to decode perfume in a fun, relatable and objective way. Sunday Times Style called me ‘the industry’s go-to scentfluencer’. I'll take that!
Of particular interest is her July 19, 2025 post “Confessions of a Gourmand Girl.” In it, Du Parcq recounts how she had formerly thrilled to all sorts of off-beat, niche perfumes and prided herself on the fact that she hadn’t succumbed to “edible” gourmand type scents, the most mainstream and unavoidable trend of recent years. Yet she recently found herself filled with enthusiasm for the Amouage gourmand entry Love Delight. Within months her preferences had narrowed exclusively to gourmands, including one that resembles an almond-filled croissant. She felt somewhat sheepish about this until she saw an IG post on the sensory effects of GLP-1 weight loss medications. (Yes, I wrote about those side effects here.)
The reason for the change of course suddenly dawned on her—she had been taking Mounjaro for almost a year. Du Parcq is very happy with her extensive weight loss. She also seems at peace with her new perfume preferences, as well as with her altered food preferences (OUT: rich creamy dishes like carbonara and risotto; IN: white fish, citrus and herb flavors, tangy seasonings.) Her post is an insightful first-person account of the way GLP-1 medications re-orient one’s sensory preferences. (She attributes it a change in smell, but it’s more likely linked to altered taste perception.)
A third notable account is Aussie perfume reviewer Miccaeli. Her substack is Fumes, which offers “deep dives, reviews, commentary and analysis on the world of perfume and fragrance.” Fumes has no paywall.
Welcome to Fumes! I am Miccaeli and I live on the east coast of Australia.
I believe that there is a lack of in depth journalistic coverage of the fragrance industry and aim to fill this niche. My ethos is that perfume is an art form and should be judged fairly and equally based on artistry, price, accessibility, and quality.
My scope is as wide as I can make it and encompasses budget, designer, indie, niche, and vintage perfume, as well as functional fragrance and flavours. If it’s meant to smell, I want to smell it.
Earlier this month, Miccaeli wrote about a curious new fragrance trend:
In: Smelling Like a Tomato (Leaf)
This just in: the children yearn for the tomato vine.
If your news feed is constantly offering up perfume themed articles from imprints like allure, Vogue, Elle and WWD, you have probably already gotten the message that tomato leaf is very much In.
Tomato leaf, or vine, is a sharp green note that has been popular for many years in home fragrance products. It’s perhaps the only note I can think of that has grown in popularity through candles. In the last five years tomato leaf has made the jump from candles to perfumes in notable scents like From the Garden (Marigela, 2023), Pool (Tsu Lange Yor, 2023), Green Spell (Eris, 2021) and Celadon (Miller Harris, 2024).
Why this note, and why now? Tomato leaf is a harsh, uncompromisingly green smell, the kind that hasn’t been fashionable for decades. But maybe that’s exactly why it is beginning to trend. I think there are three main reasons why a tomato leaf tidal wave is about to fall upon us . . .
Her reasons? “It’s the anti gourmand,” “it’s aquatic adjacent,” and “we’re due for a green chypre revival.”
I never encountered tomato leaf during my time in the fragrance industry, but I know it well: as a kid I grew up next to tomato fields in Davis, California. If you walked alongside or through those fields, you got a nose full of green pungency.
Finally, there’s one substack that’s worth a total miss: the one written by that bloviating gasbag of a biophysicist. You know the guy—he was the subject of a book-length tongue bath from Chandler Burr. Thankfully, his bilge is paywalled and can easily be avoided.
Happy reading!