The delicate interplay between scent and social standing has shaped human interaction for millennia. Long before fragrance became a commercial product, the ability to perfume one’s body or environment served as an immediate olfactory declaration of status, wealth, and cultural capital. What we choose to smell like—or not smell like—represents one of our most intimate yet public performances of class identity.

Through the complex language of fragrance, we communicate not just personal preference but social position, cultural literacy, and economic capability. These olfactory communications operate across socioeconomic boundaries, simultaneously reinforcing existing hierarchies and occasionally subverting them through counter-cultural scent practices.

This sociological phenomenon continues to influence contemporary society in profound ways, raising important questions about sensory discrimination, olfactory agency, and the embodiment of class distinctions. What appears at first glance to be simply a matter of aesthetic preference reveals itself, upon closer examination, to be a complex system of social signaling tightly bound to economic realities and power structures.

What if we explored this topic through the same film noir lens that illuminated the colonial dynamics of scent appropriation? How might these cinematic techniques help us visualize the invisible class boundaries drawn by fragrance throughout history?

A palatial chamber at Versailles. Powdered courtiers move through rooms heavy with the animalic base notes of ambergris and civet. The King himself wears so much fragrance that a faint scented trail lingers in rooms hours after his departure. A narrator intones: “In the courts of absolute monarchy, to control the strongest scents was to proclaim absolute power.”

The historical relationship between fragrance and class reveals fascinating patterns of olfactory social control. In 17th century France, the aristocracy distinguished themselves not through subtle fragrances but through olfactory excess. King Louis XV’s court earned the nickname “la cour parfumée” (the perfumed court) due to the overwhelming scent compositions favored by nobles.

Ironically, these potent animalic fragrances—heavy with civet, ambergris, and musk—served as both status markers and practical solutions for an aristocracy that bathed infrequently. The ability to mask natural body odors with expensive imported aromatics demonstrated both wealth and social privilege.

Historical records from this period demonstrate that the aristocracy’s relationship with strong, animalic scents was deeply tied to their social position. As historian Richard Stamelman, author of “Perfume: Joy, Scandal, Sin - A Cultural History of Fragrance from 1750 to the Present” (2006), has documented, these intense aromas were prized precisely because they were difficult to obtain and required significant wealth to deploy in quantity. Their very potency advertised one’s elevated position in society.

By the 19th century, these olfactory preferences had undergone a dramatic transformation. As industrial production democratized access to once-rare ingredients, the aristocracy shifted toward demonstrating olfactory refinement through restraint rather than excess—a pattern of distinction that continues to influence luxury perfumery today.

The scene shifts to a bustling department store in 1880s Paris. Glass counters display standardized perfume bottles as middle-class women browse the latest fragrances. A saleswoman sprays scented cards, demonstrating the new “respectable” floral bouquets that have replaced the heavy animalic scents of previous generations.

The 19th century department store democratized fragrance acquisition but simultaneously created new olfactory hierarchies. While the aristocracy once distinguished themselves through access to rare ambergris and exotic spices, the industrial middle class developed a new form of scent capital—the ability to discern “refined” from “vulgar” compositions, regardless of their material cost.

This period witnessed the birth of modern perfumery and its intricate class associations. As François Coty and other early fragrance entrepreneurs made perfume accessible to the middle class, new rules of olfactory propriety emerged. Heavy animalic scents, once the domain of aristocracy, became coded as “inappropriate” or “excessive”—terms that carried distinct class implications.

Jean-Claude Ellena, who served as Hermès’ in-house perfumer from 2004 to 2016, has written extensively about the history of perfumery and its social significance. Ellena, trained under pioneering perfumer Edmond Roudnitska, has observed throughout his career how perfume serves as a cultural signifier. In his book “Perfume: The Alchemy of Scent” (2011), Ellena explores how the democratization of fragrance transformed it from a marker of aristocratic privilege to a more complex indicator of taste and cultural capital.

A modern corporate office. The camera captures a subtly judgmental glance between executives as a new employee enters trailing a cloud of potent perfume. Meanwhile, in a luxury boutique, a billionaire tech entrepreneur deliberately wears no fragrance at all, his scent absence as much a statement of privilege as the diamond-infused perfume worn by the socialite shopping next to him.

Today’s fragrance-based class performance operates through increasingly sophisticated codes. The evolution of olfactory class signifiers continues, though in more complex manifestations than ever before. One of the most striking developments is the paradoxical relationship between “clean” and “perfumed” as markers of social position.

In many elite Western professional spaces, the absence of detectable fragrance has become a powerful class signifier. The billionaire tech entrepreneur who deliberately avoids fragrance as a rejection of “unnecessary” sensory embellishment participates in the same system of scent signification as the hospitality worker required to wear only specific “inoffensive” fragrances to maintain employment. Both represent bodies disciplined by class-based olfactory expectations, though with dramatically different degrees of agency.

Meanwhile, “smell discrimination” has emerged as a documented phenomenon in housing, employment, and social contexts. Studies reveal that scents associated with specific ethnic cuisines, religious practices, or cultural fragrance traditions can trigger discriminatory responses rooted in class and racial biases.

Split screen: On one side, a 1970s rock concert where young people deliberately wear patchouli and other “counter-culture” scents rejected by the establishment. On the other, a contemporary queer nightclub where performers and attendees embrace bold, gender-nonconforming fragrances that deliberately challenge olfactory conventions.

Throughout history, fragrance has served not only as an enforcer of class boundaries but also as a tool for their subversion. Revolutionary and counter-cultural movements have repeatedly employed deliberate olfactory transgression as political and social statements.

The 1960s counter-culture embraced patchouli and incense partly because these scents stood in direct opposition to the “clean,” synthetic fragrances that dominated mainstream American households. By adopting these aromatics, young people signaled their rejection of middle-class values through olfactory means.

Nuri McBride, a perfumer, writer, and educator with expertise in olfactory cultural studies who has curated programs on scent and society, has extensively researched the relationship between fragrance and cultural identity. Her work explores how marginalized communities have used scent as a form of cultural preservation and resistance against assimilationist pressures. The embrace of traditional scents by immigrant communities, for instance, represents an assertion of cultural identity in the face of pressure to adopt mainstream olfactory norms.

Today, this tradition continues in various forms. Queer fragrance movements deliberately subvert gender-based scent expectations. Immigrant communities maintain traditional fragrance practices as expressions of cultural preservation against assimilationist pressures. Independent perfumers create compositions that intentionally challenge commercial “pleasantness” in favor of artistic expressions that question conventional beauty standards.

Carlos Benaïm, master perfumer at International Flavors & Fragrances (IFF) and creator of iconic fragrances like Ralph Lauren Polo and Viktor & Rolf Flowerbomb, has worked in the fragrance industry for over 50 years. Born in Tangier, Morocco, Benaïm brings a multicultural perspective to his creations. His extensive experience has made him a witness to how the fragrance industry has evolved over decades, and how creative compositions can challenge established norms and expectations.

The camera slowly pulls back from a series of fragrance bottles arranged by price point, from mass-market to niche to custom-created compositions. The noir lighting gradually brightens, revealing not just the products but the invisible social structures they represent.

The relationship between fragrance and class refuses simple categorization. While scent continues to function as a powerful class signifier, the specific codes have become increasingly complex and context-dependent.

In certain elite circles, fragrance literacy—the ability to recognize niche compositions, discuss rare ingredients, and appreciate unconventional olfactory art—has replaced mere access to expensive scents as a marker of cultural capital. In other contexts, the strategic absence of detectable fragrance communicates adherence to professional class norms.

This evolution reflects broader changes in how class distinctions operate in contemporary society. As with other forms of cultural capital, the ability to successfully navigate fragrance expectations—knowing when to wear which scent, in what quantity, in which setting—often grants more social advantage than mere purchasing power.

The challenge for those interested in more egalitarian sensory spaces lies not in eliminating olfactory distinctions—a futile goal given fragrance’s deeply personal nature—but in questioning the power dynamics that transform scent preferences into hierarchical systems. Christophe Laudamiel, master perfumer, scent engineer, and founder of the Perfumery Code of Ethics, has advocated for greater transparency and ethical standards in the fragrance industry. His “Dear World Manifesto” and other initiatives aim to make perfumery more accessible, diverse, and environmentally sustainable.

Like our examination of olfactory colonialism, this exploration of fragrance as class performance leaves us with questions rather than answers. It invites us to consider how our own scent choices might reflect or challenge existing hierarchies, how our reactions to others’ fragrances might contain unexamined biases, and how the seemingly private act of perfuming oneself has always been a deeply social and political practice.

How has the relationship between fragrance and social class changed over time?

Historically, access to fragrance materials themselves indicated status, with the aristocracy using rare and expensive scents to distinguish themselves. As industrial production democratized access to fragrances, class distinctions shifted to emphasize “taste” and “appropriateness” rather than merely possession. Today, fragrance class markers involve complex codes around when, where, and how much fragrance is appropriate in different social contexts.

What is “smell discrimination” and how does it relate to class?

Smell discrimination refers to prejudicial treatment based on scents associated with a person’s cultural practices, ethnic background, or personal choices. This phenomenon often intersects with class prejudice, as scents associated with working-class communities, immigrant populations, or specific cultural traditions may be deemed “inappropriate” in professional or elite social contexts, resulting in exclusion or negative judgment.

How do “clean” versus “perfumed” aesthetics function as class markers?

In many contemporary Western contexts, particularly professional environments, the absence of detectable fragrance has become associated with upper-middle-class propriety, while strong or noticeable perfumes may be coded as lower-class or culturally inappropriate. However, this varies significantly across cultural contexts—in many Middle Eastern societies, for example, generous application of high-quality fragrance remains an important signifier of hospitality and status.

How have counter-cultural movements used fragrance to challenge class boundaries?

Throughout history, counter-cultural movements have embraced scents rejected by mainstream society as a form of olfactory rebellion. From the patchouli-wearing hippies of the 1960s to contemporary queer fragrance movements that deliberately blur gendered scent boundaries, fragrance has served as a tool for challenging dominant social norms, including class-based olfactory expectations.

1. Laurent, M. (2005). Perfume creation at Cartier. Interview with The Perfume Society.

2. Stamelman, R. (2006). Perfume: Joy, Scandal, Sin - A Cultural History of Fragrance from 1750 to the Present. Rizzoli.

3. Ellena, J.C. (2011). Perfume: The Alchemy of Scent. Arcade Publishing.

4. Nagel, C. (2018). Interview with Hermès perfumer Christine Nagel. The Perfume Society.

5. McBride, N. (2022). The Smell of Death: Interview with Nuri McBride. Bizzarro Bazar.

6. Benaïm, C. (2004). “Whatever is not given, is lost.” Interview in Happi Magazine.

7. Laudamiel, C. (2022). Dear World Manifesto. BeautyMatter.