Last-day-of-September Scent Check: Swapmeet goodbyes and the misunderstood scents I’ll reach for next

It’s Tuesday, the last of September, and the swapmeet clock is ticking. If you’ve been pretending that decant mountain is “curation,” today is the day to trade like you mean it. Rabbits tomorrow, and Donatella’s damage tally lands Thursday - start counting those receipts before they count you.

Me? I’m on the mend but still commando for a couple more days. The only thing perfuming the room is my mug of Upton Black Mu Dan with a crushed cardamom pod. Fragrance-free breathing space feels almost decadent when your wrists are usually a test strip.

Friday 10/3 is the fun part: wear a fragrance you feel is misunderstood or underappreciated. I have a soft spot for the outcasts, the “she’s difficult” darlings that bloom once you stop trying to make them someone else. My short list:

• Serge Lutens Tubéreuse Criminelle - that mentholated whoosh is a dare, then the tuberose slips into satin. Give it ten minutes and your wrists will forgive the opening.
• Dior Dune - dry, saline, quietly sensual. Not beachy-coconut, more wind-in-the-dunes introspection. Criminally sidelined in favor of louder florals.
• Chanel No. 19 - often labeled frosty. Good. She’s green, tailored, and smarter than your meeting. The iris-moss spine is elegance without apology.
• Guerlain Mahora/Mayotte - the tropical bomb everyone side-eyes. Worn lightly, it’s frangipani silk at golden hour. It was ahead of its time, not wrong.
• Hermès Hiris - paper-clean iris with a suede whisper. Understated to a fault, which is the point. The anti-perfume perfume.
• Kenzo Jungle L’Eléphant - cardamom, clove, ylang. Maximalist spice that turns a scarf into an aura. Not for elevators, perfect for first cold nights.
• Miller Harris L’Air de Rien - book-dust, skin, a sigh. If you get it, you get it. If not, there’s always laundry musk.

If you want a true litmus test of taste and tolerance, try Etat Libre d’Orange Sécrétions Magnifiques - five minutes only, then wash and ponder why you’re still thinking about it.

What are you wearing today, and which misunderstood beauty will you champion on Friday? I’ll raise my cardamom-laced tea to the brave souls who wear their weird proudly. September’s out. Your nose is in.