Smelling Good Has No Gender (And Other Things That Shouldn't Need Saying in 2025)

Let's dispense with the obvious: the notion that certain molecules are inherently masculine or feminine is, when you actually think about it, patently absurd. Lavender doesn't check your chromosomes before deciding how to smell on your skin. Oud couldn't care less about the gender marker on your passport. And yet, for decades, the fragrance industry has insisted on dividing itself into pink aisles and blue aisles, as though our olfactory preferences were somehow determined at birth along with everything else.
The good news? That binary is crumbling, and not a moment too soon.
What we're witnessing isn't merely a trend but a fundamental recalibration of how we think about scent. The rise of gender-neutral fragrances—or, more accurately, the return to them, since perfume was blissfully ungendered for most of human history—represents something larger than marketing departments finally catching up to reality. It's an acknowledgment that the best fragrances have always transcended the arbitrary categories we've imposed upon them.
This guide is for anyone who has ever sprayed something from the "wrong" side of the department store and thought, actually, this is magnificent. For those who have borrowed a partner's cologne and received more compliments than they ever did wearing their own perfume. For the curious, the category-resistant, and the simply fed up. Welcome. The ungendered fragrance world has been waiting for you.
A Brief History of How We Got Here (And Why It's Ridiculous)
For most of perfumery's long history, fragrance was simply fragrance. Ancient Egyptians didn't have separate scented oils for men and women. The perfumed courts of Renaissance Europe saw everyone doused in the same florals and musks. Even into the early twentieth century, many iconic fragrances were marketed without gender distinction.
The great bifurcation happened largely post-World War II, when marketing departments discovered they could sell twice as many products by convincing households they needed his and hers versions of everything. Suddenly, florals were feminine, fougères were masculine, and an entire industry organized itself around reinforcing these distinctions at every possible opportunity.
The result was generations of people limiting themselves to roughly half the olfactory spectrum based on nothing more than packaging colour and advertising copy. Men who might have adored tuberose never got the chance to discover it. Women who would have thrived in a leather-forward scent were steered toward fruit and flowers instead.
What a waste.
What Makes a Fragrance Gender-Neutral (And Why the Question Itself Is Flawed)
Here's the uncomfortable truth: every fragrance is gender-neutral. The categories exist only in our collective imagination and the marketing materials that reinforce them. That said, certain compositions do tend to inhabit a middle ground that makes them easier entry points for those newly questioning the binary.
These fragrances typically share a few characteristics. They often feature balanced compositions where no single note dominates aggressively. Woods, musks, and ambers appear frequently—notes that have historically been permitted to cross gender lines. Citrus and aromatics provide freshness without veering into the aggressive aquatics of traditional masculine fragrances. Florals, when present, tend to be tempered by something earthier or more resinous.
But here's what matters more than any note breakdown: how a fragrance makes you feel when you wear it. The only question worth asking isn't whether something was designed for your gender. It's whether it resonates with who you are and who you want to be.
The Ungendered Fragrance Wardrobe: Where to Begin
Building a collection of gender-neutral fragrances isn't about replacing everything you own. It's about expanding your horizons, about giving yourself permission to explore territory you might have previously considered off-limits.
The Skin Scent
Every wardrobe needs at least one fragrance that feels like an extension of yourself rather than something applied on top. These are the intimate scents, the ones that reward closeness and seem to merge with your chemistry until people can't tell where you end and the perfume begins.
Amber Cashmere + Sandalwood from Tuoksu exemplifies this category beautifully. Built around the ambrette seed—a note with an almost supernatural ability to adapt to individual skin chemistry—it opens with whispers of pear and soft florals before settling into something entirely personal. The sandalwood base provides warmth without weight, presence without projection. This is the fragrance equivalent of perfect skin: everyone notices something is working, but nobody can quite identify what.
The Gourmand That Doesn't Discriminate
Gourmand fragrances have traditionally skewed feminine in their marketing, which is frankly ridiculous when you consider that the desire for warmth and comfort isn't gendered. The best ungendered gourmands avoid the pitfalls of excessive sweetness while still delivering that cocooning, edible quality that makes the category so appealing.
Bourbon Vanilla + Honey Milk strikes this balance with admirable precision. The composition blends rich caramel, coumarin, and honeyed milk into something that manages to be lavishly sweet without becoming cloying or juvenile. The vanilla here isn't the sugary, synthetic version that dominates lesser fragrances but something richer and more resinous—bourbon vanilla with genuine depth. It's the rare gourmand that works equally well on a first date or a business meeting, regardless of who's wearing it.
The Smoky Sophisticate
Smoke, fire, incense—these are notes that exist entirely outside gender norms, drawing instead on something more primal. A well-executed smoky fragrance feels ancient and modern simultaneously, connecting us to centuries of human ritual while remaining thoroughly contemporary.
Saffron + Savage Oud occupies this territory with confidence. The opening of pink pepper and birch bark establishes immediate intrigue before giving way to a heart of saffron and creamy palo santo. The base—wild oud, cedar, and tonka bean—evokes fireside evenings without ever becoming literal or costume-like. This is a fragrance for anyone who wants to smell interesting, which is to say, everyone.
The Coffee Break
There's something inherently democratic about coffee. It's the great equalizer, the shared ritual that crosses every demographic line humanity has devised. Coffee-forward fragrances carry this same egalitarian energy.
Caramel Macchiato + Smokey Vanilla translates the coffee shop experience into something wearable without losing any of the complexity. Rich espresso opens the composition with genuine intensity—none of that watered-down, merely suggestive coffee that lesser fragrances attempt. The smokey vanilla that follows adds intrigue, while creamy sandalwood in the base keeps everything grounded and sophisticated. The result is warming, slightly addictive, and utterly unconcerned with who's wearing it.
The Spicy Wild Card
Pink pepper has emerged as something of a signature note in modern ungendered perfumery, and for good reason. It adds warmth and complexity without coding masculine or feminine, bridging the gap between fresh and warm with effortless ease.
Pink Pepper + Palo Santo demonstrates exactly why this ingredient is having a moment. Mediterranean pomegranate provides unexpected brightness in the opening, while rose hips and lily add floral dimension without overwhelming. The base of pink pepper, smoky palo santo, and opoponax is sophisticated and distinctive—chic and flirty and entirely unconcerned with traditional fragrance categories.
The Dark Horse
Sometimes you want something that defies easy categorization, that exists in a space entirely its own. These are the fragrances that prompt genuine curiosity, that make people lean in and ask what you're wearing.
Dark Roast + Chocolate Shavings is precisely this kind of wild card. Cardamom and cinnamon open alongside white flowers—already an unexpected combination—before rich roasted coffee and dark chocolate emerge at the heart. Haitian vetiver and benzoin ground the composition, preventing it from veering into purely sweet territory. The result is boldly addictive and radiantly modern, equally striking on anyone confident enough to wear it.
The Intellectual
Not every fragrance needs to be loud or challenging. Sometimes the most sophisticated choice is restraint—a scent that communicates quiet confidence rather than demanding attention.
Spicy Amber + Sandalwood embodies this philosophy. The amber is warm and slightly resinous, supported by musk and sensual sandalwood in a composition where florals deliberately take a backseat. It's been described as extremely mature and subtle, which in this context is the highest possible compliment. This is the fragrance for someone who has nothing to prove.
The Tea Time
Tea notes occupy fascinating middle ground in perfumery—neither aggressively fresh nor heavily sweet, carrying cultural associations that span genders and geographies. A well-executed tea fragrance feels sophisticated without being stuffy, interesting without trying too hard.
Tea Leaves + Honey Tobacco explores this territory with confidence. The tea notes provide an unusual opening, herbal and slightly bitter, before a subtle tobacco accord adds warmth and complexity. Orchids and white flowers contribute floral dimension, while bitter almond and tonka bean create a base that's intriguing rather than straightforwardly sweet. It's a fragrance for those who appreciate nuance.
The Art of Shopping Without Gender
Navigating the fragrance counter when you've decided to ignore traditional categories requires a slight shift in strategy. Most department stores still organize by gender, which means you'll need to be comfortable browsing both sections—or better yet, seeking out retailers and brands that have abandoned the distinction altogether.
Niche perfumery has largely led this charge. Smaller houses, freed from the marketing imperatives of major conglomerates, have increasingly presented their fragrances without gender designation. This isn't political posturing; it's simply an acknowledgment that their customers are sophisticated enough to choose for themselves.
When sampling, ignore the packaging entirely. Spray on paper first to get a general sense, then apply to skin—because fragrance behaves differently on every body, and that difference matters far more than any gender designation. Live with a scent for at least a few hours before deciding. The initial impression often bears little resemblance to how a fragrance develops over time.
And perhaps most importantly: trust yourself. If something smells extraordinary on you, it doesn't matter what section of the store it came from or who appears in the advertising. Your nose knows what works with your chemistry. Listen to it.
The Concentration Conversation
When shopping for ungendered fragrances, concentration becomes particularly important. Higher concentrations—extrait de parfum, typically 18-23% fragrance oil—tend to sit closer to the skin and develop more intimately. This makes them excellent choices for those exploring fragrances outside traditional gender categories, as they read as personal rather than performative.
Many of the fragrances mentioned here are extrait concentration, which offers another advantage: longevity. A well-made extrait will last throughout the day, evolving and changing with your body chemistry rather than simply fading away. This extended wear time allows you to truly live with a scent, understanding how it behaves across different situations and moods.
The Layering Opportunity
One of the great freedoms of abandoning gendered fragrance thinking is the permission it grants for experimentation. When you're no longer constrained by arbitrary categories, layering becomes exponentially more interesting.
A soft skin scent like Amber Cashmere + Sandalwood might serve as a base layer, with something more assertive—perhaps Saffron + Savage Oud—applied on top for evening. The coffee richness of Caramel Macchiato + Smokey Vanilla pairs unexpectedly well with the tea notes of Tea Leaves + Honey Tobacco, creating something entirely new.
There are no rules here, which is precisely the point. The only question is whether the combination works for you—and the only way to discover that is through experimentation.
Why This Matters Beyond the Perfume Counter
The shift toward ungendered fragrance isn't happening in isolation. It's part of a broader cultural conversation about the arbitrary nature of so many distinctions we've been taught to accept as natural. Fragrance becomes a surprisingly intimate arena for this larger reckoning.
What we choose to smell like is, after all, a deeply personal decision. It's how we present ourselves to the world before we speak a single word. Reclaiming that choice—deciding that we won't be limited by categories that never made sense to begin with—is a small but meaningful act of self-determination.
And let's be honest: it also just makes practical sense. Why limit yourself to half the olfactory world? Why miss out on something that might become your signature scent simply because the bottle was the wrong colour? Why let a marketing department make decisions about what's appropriate for you?
The fragrances that move us rarely respect the boundaries we've constructed. The most memorable scent you've ever encountered probably wasn't memorable because it perfectly adhered to gender norms. It was memorable because it was beautiful, or surprising, or exactly right for that particular moment in time.
That's what fragrance should be: an encounter with beauty that transcends category. The industry is finally catching up to what many of us have known all along—that the best scent is simply the one that makes you feel most like yourself.
Whatever self that happens to be.