The title is of course a lie – I am currently out of at least two perfumes mentioned here and I am still very much alive (although perhaps this explains my recent health troubles…). But a follower on Instagram asked me to provide such a list and I thought: why not? I have enough experience with wearing and paying attention to perfume by now to select scents that I’m reasonably confident I’ll not change my mind about any time soon.

It is not the list of my current favourites and it’s not even a list of what I think are the best fragrances ever. I wanted to be as faithful as I could to the task and I have therefore chosen only things that I either have repurchased or plan to repurchase as soon as I run out. To put things in context, I repurchase fragrances very rarely. First, that’s because I hardly ever run out of anything, as I have what most people would consider a large collection: about 60 full bottles, a number of decants and travel sprays and hundreds of samples. Second, my instinct is usually to buy new stuff rather than rebuy something familiar. This is changing to a certain extent now, as I try to focus more on things I absolutely love, but there are frankly very many excellent perfumes out there. In any case, if I have bought a perfume twice or thrice, it’s a clear sign that my feelings are serious.

So here we go, in no particular order:

31 Rue Cambon, Chanel. It is interesting (well, it is for me, I don’t think it’s particularly fascinating to anyone else) that while I am lukewarm about Chanel’s best known perfumes – Number 5, Coco and the newer additions of Mademoiselle*, Gabrielle and Chance -, I love the brand’s Les Exclusifs line. There aren’t really any I don’t like within the 18-scent collection and there are at least five that I adore. 31 Rue Cambon summarises everything I appreciate about Chanel fragrances: the elegance, the sophistication, the exquisite iris, the touch of masculinity, the quality. There is no better fragrance for the office if you want to appear effortlessly confident and capable (if your budget doesn’t stretch to the exclusifs prices, No 19 has a similar vibe). It is assertive without being overwhelming and simply has such backbone. Plus it is also gorgeous, in a complex, slightly aloof way.

Féminité du Bois, Serge Lutens. Those who have closely studied the cover image of this post already know that instead of Serge Lutens’s classic Feminite du Bois, it includes in fact its close relative Bois de Violette. Because indeed, after draining two bottles of FdB, I went for its sister instead and as they cover very similar territory, I haven’t yet gotten around to replacing the original. I will, though. Feminite du Bois is possibly the best woody fragrance ever created; it’s certainly my favourite. The most prominent note here is cedarwood and while I often find it quite screechy, FdB is as sumptuous and beautifully blended as is possible to get. Plum, peach, sandalwood, rose and violet round the sharper corners of cedar and cinnamon and ginger add warmth. In Bois de Violette, the violet note has been played up, resulting in a sweeter and gentler, but equally beautiful creation. My only worry is that as Lutens continues to reformulate his fragrances, Feminite du Bois will keep moving away from what it originally was – and I haven’t even tried the very first version that was launched under the Shiseido brand.

London, Tom Ford. This is the darkest perfume on this list – smoky, leathery, woody, tarry, spicy. It has pretty much every deep note you can think of: from coffee to inscense, from musk to oud. I don’t find it hard to wear, however, which I suspect is partly because I like Ford’s style (this is not his las fragrance on this list) and partly because I seem to like this sort of fragrances. Nanban by Arquiste is similar and could have been on this list, if I wasn’t only half-way through my first bottle. The wonderful Anubis by Papillon Perfumes falls into the same category as well. London is of course something that in traditional terms would be classified as a (hyper)masculine fragrance, which only makes me like it more. If you are a woman, it can be used to accentuate a menswear-inspired/badass look or as a counterpoint to something uber feminine. If you are a man, well, just get it.

Mimosa & Cardamom, Jo Malone. I buy Jo Malone fragrances often: I find many of them lovely and extremely easy to wear, and I am not mentally equipped to wear something achingly intricate or powerfully hardcore every single day. The other reason I am fond of them is that Jo Malone does 30ml bottles, which is a god-send for someone like me: I usually don’t need more anyway. The only large-size Malone I have ever bought has been Mimosa & Cardamom, after I finished the small one in a few months. I knew that I’ll have no trouble going through it, because I absolutely love wearing it. It is a happy, sunny scent, a wonderfully creamy yellow floral with touches of fruit and spice. There is a bit of sweetness, but it’s no vanilla-bomb. It is probably one of my most complimented fragrances, as it’s easy to like and it never overpowers. Like most of the JM cologne line, it is not designed to be a long-lasting fragrance (if you want the lightness of a cologne, you usually have to sacrifice some longevity), which never bothers me – one does not go to JM for staying power**. But in case it’s important for you, be forewarned.

Après l’Ondée , Guerlain. When I comes to fragrance, I am much more of a Chanel girl than I am a Guerlain one. But there is one Guerlain classic that I love and never want to be without: Apres l’Ondee, the masterpiece form 1906. There are many beautiful reviews about this scent, usually evoking a romantic garden after the rain and/or gentle melancholy. This is all well and good, but the only thing you really need to know is that it’s pretty. I can fully understand people who do not fancy my stark irises or shocking concoctions of leather and tar. What I do not understand is people who don’t think Apres l’Ondee smells like the essence of prettiness. It is the delicate sum of dewy violets, puffs of mimosa (do you see a theme emerging here?), anise bonbons and rose-scented powder. To me, it descends trends and tastes. There are constant rumors of Guerlain discontinuing Apres l’Ondee and I will never forgive them if they do.

Iris Silver Mist, Serge Lutens. I mentioned stark iris fragrances in the previous paragraph and there’s none starker than ISM, the mother of all irises. I love iris fragrances and enjoy all variations of the note: I like it cold and severe and mixed with vetiver or green notes; I like it tempered with fruity accords; I like it with its sweeter cousin violet; I like it with leather, with woods, with everything. It is, in my view, the most refined note there is – adding iris to a fragrance gives it instant class. ISM is not my most-worn iris, as it’s a demanding fragrance: those with deeper interest in perfume know that it includes a massive dose of orris butter made from the roots of iris plants***. It is one of the most expensive perfume ingredients and usually used sparingly. In ISM, it’s abundant and that’s why it can smell too rooty, too uncompromising for some. I think it’s stunning and every time I smell it, I am almost surprised how stunning I find it. I will never be without it.

Fleur de Chine, Tom Ford. Tom Ford is generally not known for refined understatement. Oh, he can do polished like nobody’s business and he is sophisticated, but he’s also sexy and bold. You should, however, not underestimate Tom Ford. While I admit I have a weakness for his over-priced, too large and infuriatingly unpredictable line of fragrances****, I would confidently recommend Fleur de Chine to the most committed Ford-phobes. It is a refined abstract floral that I have in the past described smelling like what I imagine soaps in heaven would smell like. I still cannot come up with a better decription. It is gently powdery and somehow both old school and modern at the same time. Out of all the perfumes on this list, it’s the most difficult to describe in terms of notes, as the bouquet of florals (perhaps magnolias and peonies and jasmine) and a bowl of delicate fruits are wrapped in aldehydes that give it the blurry, luminously soapy finish I so love. Of course, considering all this, Tom Ford has discontinued it and I only have a decant, as you can see from the photo. I live in constant hope of its return.

Lyric Woman, Amouage. When Fleur de Chine does opulence with a light touch, Lyric goes all in. It throws everything at you – roses and jasmine, sandalwood and incense, cinnamon and tonka bean. Despite all of its velvety richness, I don’t find it suffocating at all. It’s also not, at least on me, a rose-dominated fragrance, although it’s usually described as such. It’s an exquisitely creamy, luscious oriental perfume that remains the only full-size Amouage bottle that I own (I would probably own more, but they are ruinously expensive). How it doesn’t collapse under its own weight is rather remarkable. In my mind, it’s in the same category with another complex rose scent, Neela Vermeire’s Mohur extrait. I absolutely love the latter and probably would pronounce the better scent. But I feel that when I run out of both, I would replace Lyric first.

Lumière Blanche, Olfacive Studio. The trouble with these kind of lists is that they tend to be rather boring: by default, they aren’t going to contain anything very new or interesting and at least in my case, the top 10 is heavily skewed towards established brands that I have loved for a long time. Lumiere Blanche is, I’m afraid, the only truly niche scent on this list. With its creaminess and soft woods, it has an affinity with Mimosa & Cardamom and Lyric and to a certain extent even Feminite du Bois. But in its own category, it surpasses them all – it’s the most comforting scent I own. It smells like almond milk spiced with cardamom in a sandalwood cup and there is no day where I couldn’t or wouldn’t wear it, if I had to. There is nothing else I’d rather smell on my cashmere sweater the next day.

Cuir de Russie, Chanel. As above, so below: let’s finish with another Chanel. I could have picked differently, gone for the extraordinary Sycomore, my favourite vetiver; the sadly discontinued Cristalle EDT or the lovely Paris-Deauville. But if I can only have two, it has to be Cuir de Russie. I have just bought a new bottle and am getting used to it again. As the name indicates, it’s a leather fragrance and unapologetically so. But because it’s Chanel, it’s of course a very elegant leather. If you smell Cuir de Russie and 31 Rue Cambon side by side, you’ll notice a family resemblance, partly down to the iris that plays an important part in both. CdR makes me think of saddle soap, although I have never smelled an actual saddle – or any other leather object – treated with it. It’s the classic Chanel aldehydes that create this soapy effect on top of the darker layer underneath. A perfectly balanced blend of tobacco and leather and the classic Chanel florals, Cuir de Russie is a perfume for the ages.

Do you have any fragrances you don’t want to be without? I’d be sincerely curious to know.

*Full disclosure: I went through a Coco Mademoiselle phase in my early twenties, it was my first work fragrance, but while I can see why I liked it back then, I really cannot wear it any longer.

**The Intense line – a later addition – is a different story and something you might want to try if you like the JM aesthetic, but want something stronger. For me, it often negates the reasons I gravitate towards JM in the first place.

***This also explains why iris fragrance don’t really smell floral. For a softer, more flowery touch, violet is often added, as it shares some fragrance compounds with iris.

****There are constant launches and abrupt discontinuations. And then sometimes scents are brought back again. It is frustrating.