How to Describe Scent
We use words like rounded, bright, soft, or sunny when we talk about perfume, but what do those words actually mean? They aren’t exact scientific terms, yet they appear everywhere. Perfumers use their own versions too: diffusive, airy, lifted. This kind of vocabulary appears because scent eventually moves past literal ingredients and into memory, mood, and association. When language runs out, we reach for whatever gets us closest.
Understanding how we get from lemon to “sunny” helps the whole process make sense.
Starting with the literal
Begin with what your nose can name.
Lemon smells like lemon. Rose smells like rose. Vanilla smells like vanilla. If you can point to one clear thing you recognize, that’s enough. Literal notes anchor your experience.
Even literal notes have shape. Something can feel sharp, soft, rounded, bright. These are sensory impressions, not rules, but they help you understand how the scent behaves.
Naming Families
Once you identify a literal note, step outward. Which family is it part of? Families help you organize your perceptions even if you don’t know the chemistry behind them. To name a few:
Citrus: Zesty, sharp, and refreshing. These are the "top notes" that provide an immediate burst of energy, like lemon, bergamot, or grapefruit.
Floral: The most diverse family, ranging from a single, delicate rose to a heavy, intoxicating bouquet of white flowers like jasmine or tuberose.
Woody: Grounded and steady. This includes the dry scent of cedarwood, the creamy warmth of sandalwood, or the earthy, damp quality of patchouli and vetiver.
Aromatic: Clean and herbaceous. Think of the "kitchen garden" notes—lavender, rosemary, mint, and sage—often leaning into a fresh, masculine edge.
Gourmand: The "edible" scents. These are cozy and sweet, featuring notes like vanilla, chocolate, honey, or toasted praline.
Musky: Soft, sensual, and lingering. Musk often mimics the scent of clean skin or adds a velvety, "fuzzy" texture that helps a perfume last.
Aquatic: Airy and expansive. These rely on molecules that interpret the smell of sea spray, mountain air, or fresh rain—relying on cues our brains interpret as "watery."
Context changes everything
Citrus behaves differently depending on where it appears.
Paired with sweetness and warmth, it resembles key lime pie.
Paired with herbs and woods, it resembles lemonade.
Paired with aldehydes, it resembles a bright cleaning spray.
Your brain uses context to guess meaning, which is why the same ingredient can feel completely different depending on what surrounds it.
Memory and metaphor
This is where abstract language starts to make sense.
Someone calls a perfume “sunny.” One person imagines citrus and warm skin. Another imagines sunscreen. Another imagines fresh-cut grass. All are correct. Scent and memory share a pathway in the brain, so personal associations become part of the vocabulary.
If a scent reminds someone of their grandfather’s leather chair, you don’t need the exact technical description to understand the emotional tone. When someone describes winter cocoa by a fire, you probably smelled something in your mind instantly.
This is where scent becomes storytelling.
Simple Structure for Describing a Scent
Try moving through these steps:
Identify one literal note.
Place it in a family.
Pay attention to context.
Build a small scene that fits the smell.
Notice any memories it stirs.
Move into abstract adjectives like warm, bright, rounded, dark, airy.
We do this without thinking.
“Something smells like apples. Something fruity. It’s coming from the kitchen. I think someone’s about to bake a pie. Oh, I love apple pie. It’s such a cozy dessert.”
A Final Note
Perfumery has technique, shared vocabulary, and structure. Each nose organizes scent differently. Some think in color. Others in texture. Others in memory first. What matters is finding the method that helps you understand what you’re smelling and gives you enough language to describe it. Everything else develops over time.
