Shadowed Scents: The Complex Legacy of Fragrance Appropriation

The history of perfumery is inseparable from the history of global trade, cultural exchange, and colonial expansion. Centuries before luxury fragrance houses emerged in Paris and New York, aromatic materials traveled along complex networks that spanned continents and civilizations. These networks—initially established for religious, medicinal, and cultural purposes—were gradually transformed by European colonial powers into commercial enterprises that fundamentally altered the relationship between scents and their cultural origins.

Olfactory colonialism, the systematic appropriation and commercialization of indigenous scent practices by colonial powers, represents one of the more nuanced aspects of imperial legacy. Unlike the extraction of gold or the plantation economies of sugar and cotton, the appropriation of scent involved not just material resources but cultural knowledge, spiritual practices, and sensory experiences that were often misunderstood or deliberately recontextualized.

The colonial trade in aromatic materials wasn’t just economic exploitation. Historical documents reveal how indigenous scent practices were often repackaged as “discoveries” for European elites while erasing their cultural significance [1].

This historical process continues to influence contemporary perfumery in profound ways, raising important questions about attribution, compensation, and cultural respect. Yet the story resists simple moral categorization. It is neither a straightforward tale of villainous exploitation nor an innocent narrative of artistic inspiration, but rather a complex interweaving of power, creativity, commerce, and cultural exchange.

What if we pursued this topic through the lens of film noir—that shadowy, morally ambiguous genre where nothing is quite as straightforward as it first appears? How might the chiaroscuro lighting technique of noir cinema illuminate the interplay of light and shadow in the story of scent appropriation?

A shaft of light cuts through venetian blinds, illuminating a cloud of sandalwood incense in a dimly lit room. A voiceover intones: “It began innocently enough—a trade in pleasant smells that would eventually reshape cultures across continents.”

The sandalwood groves of Mysore, India, provide our first location shot. Sacred in Hindu traditions for millennia, sandalwood’s creamy, milky scent permeated temples and funeral pyres long before it appeared in European perfumery. When British merchants first encountered these groves in the 18th century, they recognized not just a pleasant aroma but a potential commodity.

By the early 20th century, sandalwood had been transformed from a material with deep spiritual significance into a key component of Western perfumery. Today, it appears in countless fragrances, from Chanel’s Égoïste to Tom Ford’s Santal Blush, often without acknowledgment of its cultural origins or the near-destruction of India’s native sandalwood populations through colonial exploitation.

Yet contemporary perfumery has begun to address this legacy. Modern sandalwood in perfumes often comes from sustainable plantations in Australia, where cultivation techniques were developed in consultation with Indian experts. Some luxury brands now specifically mention the cultural heritage of sandalwood in their marketing materials, acknowledging what was once erased.

The scene shifts to a Parisian perfume laboratory, where glass vials containing jasmine absolute from India sit next to synthetic molecules designed to mimic rare florals. A perfumer works late into the night, combining materials with vastly different origins and histories.

The transformation of sacred and medicinal scent practices into commercial luxuries represents one of the more complex aspects of olfactory colonialism. Consider frankincense, a resin that has been burned in religious ceremonies across the Middle East and North Africa for millennia. Today, it’s a prized ingredient in luxury eau de parfum, its context fundamentally altered.

This transformation wasn’t simply a matter of physical transportation but of cultural recontextualization. Scents that once connected people to their ancestors, gods, or healing traditions became luxury goods marketed for their “exotic” appeal, their cultural significance often reduced to marketing copy emphasizing their “mysterious” or “ancient” qualities.

Traveling and experiencing different cultures has been fundamental to modern perfumers’ creative approaches, though this comes with a responsibility when drawing inspiration from traditions not one’s own [2].

Contemporary perfumery presents a fascinating paradox—the very industry built partly on appropriated scent traditions now includes voices calling for ethical sourcing, cultural acknowledgment, and collaborative approaches. Floral perfumes, once marketed through orientalist fantasies, are increasingly presented with botanical accuracy and cultural context.

The camera pans across a modern perfume shop. Close-up on bottles containing oud, a fragrant resin traditionally used in Middle Eastern perfumery that has become a staple of luxury Western fragrances over the past two decades.

The current landscape of perfumery reveals both continuing patterns of appropriation and emerging approaches to ethical engagement with global scent traditions. The explosive popularity of oud in Western perfumery over the past twenty years provides a telling case study.

Oud (agarwood)—a resinous heartwood formed when Aquilaria trees are infected with a specific type of mold—has been treasured in Middle Eastern, South Asian, and East Asian cultures for centuries. Traditional uses range from religious ceremonies to personal perfumery, often involving complex cultural practices around its appreciation and use.

When Western perfume houses discovered oud in the early 2000s, it was frequently marketed as an exotic discovery rather than an established tradition with its own sophisticated culture. Tom Ford’s Oud Wood (2007) and numerous subsequent designer fragrances presented oud as a novel luxury ingredient, often divorced from its cultural context.

The art of perfumery requires navigating cultural sensitivity while embracing creative inspiration. Modern perfumers must balance innovation with respect for the traditions and materials they work with [3].

Today, the approach to oud is evolving. Some Western perfumers collaborate directly with Middle Eastern perfume houses, acknowledging their expertise and cultural heritage. Others ensure sustainable sourcing and proper attribution. Major fragrance houses have begun recognizing that ethical engagement with global scent traditions is both morally sound and commercially advantageous.

Compositions used in perfumery currently contain an average of 35% natural ingredients. This proportion is on the rise, with some perfume houses trying to outdo each other in terms of the baseline number of natural products in each new perfume. This represents new technical challenges that we need to address while at the same time seeking to limit the impact of the extraction of these natural ingredients [5].

Split screen: On one side, traditional frankincense harvesters in Oman following practices unchanged for generations. On the other, indigenous perfumers in Latin America creating contemporary fragrances based on traditional scent practices.

From the Amazon to Australia, indigenous communities are asserting their right to their olfactory heritage—not merely to preserve traditional practices but to control how these traditions evolve and enter global markets.

This movement transcends preservation; it represents a fundamental reclamation of agency. While contemporary luxury brands like Chanel and Tom Ford may represent the pinnacle of Western perfumery, their achievements rest upon a global heritage of scent that includes contributions insufficiently acknowledged or compensated.

What we’re witnessing is not merely a reclamation of specific scents, but of the authority to define what those scents signify. In many ways, this constitutes a form of olfactory sovereignty, challenging centuries of Western olfactory dominance [6].

Today, indigenous-owned perfume brands are emerging globally, offering fragrances that draw on traditional knowledge while speaking to contemporary aesthetics. These enterprises represent not a rejection of modernity but an insistence that tradition and innovation can coexist without exploitation.

The camera slowly pulls back from a perfume bottle, revealing it as just one object in a complex global network of producers, creators, consumers, and cultures. The noir lighting gradually gives way to full illumination.

The story of perfume and appropriation resists neat resolution. Contemporary perfumery continues to draw inspiration from global scent traditions, but with growing awareness of the ethical dimensions of these borrowings. Many perfume establishments now feature brands that prioritize transparency and ethical practices.

Consumers are developing a more sophisticated understanding of the narratives embedded in their chosen scents. They increasingly select fragrances that not only please aesthetically but also align with their ethical considerations [7].

This evolution reflects broader changes in how we understand cultural exchange in a post-colonial world. Simple narratives of villains and victims fail to capture the complex reality of how scents, like other cultural expressions, travel and transform across time and space.

The challenge for contemporary perfumery lies not in avoiding cross-cultural inspiration but in ensuring that such inspiration acknowledges its sources, compensates contributors fairly, and respects the cultural contexts of the materials it employs. Every perfume is a time capsule, a sensory archive of human culture and natural history. Our challenge is to create and consume fragrances in a way that honors this rich heritage [8].

Like the best film noir, the story of olfactory colonialism leaves us with questions rather than answers. It invites us to appreciate the complexity of cultural exchange while remaining alert to power imbalances that can transform inspiration into appropriation. As consumers and creators of scent, we are all participants in this ongoing narrative—one that, like perfume itself, continues to evolve in unexpected ways.

What is olfactory colonialism?

Olfactory colonialism refers to the historical process by which colonial powers appropriated, commodified, and recontextualized indigenous scent practices and aromatic materials. This includes the extraction of natural resources, the commercialization of traditional scent rituals, and the marketing of “exotic” fragrances to Western consumers without proper cultural context or attribution.

How are perfume companies addressing their colonial legacy?

Many perfume companies are taking steps to address their colonial legacy through ethical sourcing practices, collaborations with indigenous communities, and increased transparency about ingredient origins. Some are also investing in preserving traditional scent practices and supporting local economies in regions where they source materials.

What is the difference between cultural appreciation and appropriation in perfumery?

Cultural appreciation in perfumery involves respectfully drawing inspiration from diverse scent traditions, collaborating with source communities, and accurately representing the cultural context of ingredients. Appropriation, on the other hand, involves using cultural elements without permission, proper understanding, or fair compensation, often misrepresenting or trivializing their significance.

How can consumers make more ethical choices when buying perfumes?

Consumers can make more ethical choices by researching brands’ sourcing practices, looking for perfumes that provide transparency about their ingredients’ origins, and supporting companies that collaborate with and fairly compensate source communities. Additionally, exploring fragrances created by perfumers from diverse cultural backgrounds can help broaden one’s olfactory perspective.

[1] Quye, A. (2022). “Researching Scotland’s textile heritage through material culture evidence.” Society of Antiquaries of Scotland, University of Glasgow.

[2] Duchaufour, B. (2023). “Portrait of perfumer Bertrand Duchaufour.” Scentissime, France.

[3] Barel, C. (2021). “An interview with Celine Barel, the perfumer of Zoologist Squid.” Zoologist Perfumes.

[5] Mane, J. (2022). “Jean Mane: ‘Mane has always been guided by a vision that respects people and the environment’.” NEZ Magazine, France.

[6] Kettler, A. (2020). “The Smell of Slavery: Olfactory Racism and the Atlantic World.” Cambridge University Press, Cambridge.

[7] Liebelt, C. (2023). “Scented Entanglements.” Boasblogs - Undoing Race and Racism, Berlin, Germany.

[8] Aftel, M. (2017). “Aftel Archive of Curious Scents.” Aftelier Perfumes, Berkeley, California.