Prologue

There are fragrance consumers who firmly believe there is nothing wrong with buying dupes – facsimiles of original fragrances, often poorly constructed and sold at a lower price – because they cost less and seem to perform similarly to the original. This essay is not for that audience.

If that’s a belief you hold strongly, this may not sway you. But if you’re someone who’s conflicted, curious, or questioning – if you’ve ever wondered whether buying dupes might have unseen consequences – then I invite you to read on.

Perfume Is Art. And It Deserves Protection.

The celebrated French writer Colette once said, “Perfume is the most essential of inessentials.” I’d go one step further: perfume is art, and art is essential to being human.

We readily accept that illustration, sculpture, ceramics, and painting are art—tangible forms that engage the eye and hand. Yet scent, though intangible, can be just as conceptually rich and emotionally evocative. It calls on memory, mood, and meaning in ways no visual object can. And that, too, is art.

These disciplines are protected, respected, and, when stolen, defended. Yet perfume, perhaps because it cannot be hung on a wall or easily reproduced in a gallery, often escapes that same recognition. But perfumery, like all art, is an act of creative expression. It requires vision, technique, and years of refinement. And like other forms of art, it can be copied.

It’s often pointed out that perfume formulas are not protected by copyright law. That’s true. The law treats scent as “functional,” not artistic, and so it’s difficult to patent or trademark an olfactory structure. But ethics do not end where copyright law does.

Just because something is legal doesn’t mean it’s just. If we understand perfume as art – as something a person created – then reproducing it for profit without credit or compensation becomes indefensible.

If we support perfume as art, we must also defend it as art. Because the creative labor behind every original fragrance matters, regardless of whether the law chooses to acknowledge it.

What Is a Dupe?

In my workshop booklet An Introduction to Creating Your Own Perfume, I defined dupes – also known as fragrance clones – as perfumes designed to closely mimic the scent of another fragrance while being sold at a fraction of the price. Though they feature different branding and packaging, they often create the illusion of being a more affordable alternative to the original. While not direct trademark infringements, they capitalize on the popularity of established scents by replicating their olfactory profiles.

At the time, I described dupes as primarily targeting high-end, luxury fragrances. I would now amend that. Dupes exist at all levels of perfumery, from designer labels to niche indie brands. Some individuals or companies simply want to capitalize on whatever is trending. They aren’t innovating. They’re copying.

Access vs. Ethics

A common defense of dupes is that they offer access. If the original is too expensive, what’s the harm in buying a more affordable alternative?

But access should not come at the expense of ethics.

If I cannot afford an original screenprint by Andy Warhol, I can still walk into a museum gift shop and purchase a licensed poster of his work. That poster may be inexpensive, but it was produced with the artist’s estate’s oversight. The colors are matched. The proportions are preserved. The artwork is respected.

Now imagine I buy a bootleg print instead. I may think I’m getting the same experience for less, but in reality, I’m supporting a system that rewards deception, devalues the original creator’s work, and undermines the integrity of the entire industry. It’s a little cheaper, made with lesser materials, and slightly warped in color—but technically it looks the same. Except it doesn’t. It degrades the artist’s intent. It’s dishonest. And it supports an industry that thrives on cutting corners and avoiding accountability.

A few years ago, I was flipping through vinyl records at the Fremont Sunday Market when I found a copy of PJ Harvey’s Rid of Me—an album I adore, but not $300 adore. I assumed, somewhat stupidly, that it was a reissue: affordable, timely, and a little too good to be true. I didn’t take out my smartphone to check Discogs, or even think to verify whether the album had been re-released. It was $19, and I handed over cash without hesitation, thrilled with my discovery.

It wasn’t until I got home that I noticed the track “50 Ft. Queenie” was misspelled as “S0Ft. Queenie.” I’d bought a bootleg.

It played fine, but it wasn’t the real thing. And when PJ Harvey eventually reissued the album herself, I bought the official pressing immediately. The bootleg? I couldn’t resell it on most sites. Even my local record shop, when I sold my collection, now had to deal with a copy they couldn’t easily pass along.

The parallels to perfume dupes are clear: it’s easy to believe we’ve scored something great for less, until we realize it cost far more than we thought. Not in money, but in meaning, in intention, in the erosion of artistic trust.

Because if someone steals your work one day, will you want to be told it doesn’t matter?

Perfume Has a Signature, Not Just a Scent

When you fall in love with a fragrance, it’s often because of the way it’s composed—the balance, the contrast, the tension between materials. What you may not realize is that these compositional choices are part of a perfumer’s voice.

French perfumer Jean-Claude Ellena is renowned for his minimalist style—his belief that elegance is achieved through economy, not excess. His work for Hermès, including Un Jardin sur le Nil and Terre d’Hermès, exemplifies how a perfumer can distill an idea to its essence while still evoking atmosphere, memory, and texture.

Ellena doesn’t just create perfumes, he creates a mood that you can recognize across his portfolio. It’s not uncommon for fragrance lovers to follow a perfumer’s work across different brands or houses, seeking out that familiar touch, that invisible signature.

Sites like Basenotes can help you trace these connections. You might start with one fragrance and discover others by the same hand—each different, yet threaded together by intention and form. It’s no different from following a favorite author, filmmaker, or painter.

Knowing the perfumer is one of the best ways to find new favorites that resonate with you. And unlike a dupe, which tries to impersonate someone else's work, an original fragrance crafted by a specific perfumer invites you into their world.

There are also brilliant, lesser-known perfumers working independently or behind the scenes. Their work might not be sold in department stores, but it’s often more daring, more personal, and more emotionally resonant than anything built to appeal to the widest audience. If you’ve never heard of them, that’s all the more reason to start exploring.

Perfume Is Iterative, but Dupes Aren’t Interpretation

It’s true: perfumery is a referential art. Perfume builds upon itself. The perfumer Sophia Grojsman is known for her signature accord: a mix of Hedione, Iso E Super, Galaxolide, and Methyl Ionone in similar proportions. She used this accord in many of her creations, including 1983’s Paris by Yves Saint Laurent. That very fragrance served as inspiration for perfumer Sophie Labbé’s 2009 flanker, Parisienne, also by YSL.

But inspiration is not duplication. Artistic influence transforms. It never mimics.

Dupes don’t aim to reinterpret a scent. They aim to replicate it as closely as possible—without permission, without attribution, and without artistic growth.

Another example: Geza Schoen’s Molecule 01 was launched in 2006 and is celebrated for its minimalist composition built around a single material: Iso E Super. Except it wasn’t exactly Iso E Super, it was Iso Gamma Super, a captive ingredient owned by IFF. Many have tried to recreate Molecule 01 using Iso E Super or its variant Sylvamber, but they’ve failed to capture the nuance of the original. Sometimes, no matter how close you try to come, the dupe never delivers the same result.

Captives like Iso Gamma Super are proprietary aroma molecules made available only to select brands. Over time, these captives may enter the broader market through suppliers like Perfumer’s Apprentice, but their temporary exclusivity is a way for fragrance houses to maintain their rightful hierarchy in the marketplace.

Dupes shortcut all of that. They don't reflect years of training, trial, or testing. They imitate.

When Indie Brands Dupe Too

The conversation about dupes often centers on large corporations, but what happens when the dupe comes from an indie brand?

The perfumer Christophe Laudamiel has been a fierce advocate for recognizing perfumers as both artists and authors. He created The Perfumery Code of Ethics, a set of guidelines designed to promote originality, transparency, and respect within the fragrance world. It’s a call to acknowledge that perfumery is art, and artists deserve credit, protection, and compensation.

We must distinguish between being inspired by and directly imitating. In 1882, Houbigant launched Fougère Royale, the first fougère fragrance and the beginning of a now-classic genre. Its pioneering use of synthetic coumarin (extracted from tonka bean) was revolutionary, blending it with lavender and oakmoss to conjure the imaginary scent of a fern. Other perfumers followed—not to copy, but to interpret. I created my own fougère called Incurable, using tonka bean instead of coumarin and rosewood instead of lavender.

Contrast this with indie brands that build entire product lines around “inspired by” dupes, offering imitations of popular perfumes under different names. It’s often done under the pretense of making fragrance “accessible,” but make no mistake: duplication is duplication, no matter the size of your business.

Being small doesn’t give you license to steal.

The Work Behind the Original

Regardless of whether a perfume comes from a major label or an independent house, its creation is an involved process. A fragrance formula may contain dozens – or hundreds – of raw materials, both natural and synthetic. Each must be balanced, tested, and revised. The perfumer must calculate percentages to comply with safety regulations. In the EU, for example, the list of regulated fragrance allergens recently expanded from 26 to 82. These regulations require constant reformulation and professional oversight.

Dupes, on the other hand, are not bound by the same commitment to long-term safety or craftsmanship. Their purpose is to imitate, not evolve. And in mimicking the exterior of a fragrance, they discard its interior truth: that a real human being made this.

Transparency Doesn’t Equal Integrity

Some may argue that if a fragrance is mass-produced or commercially driven, then it’s a product, not art. But consider this: we recognize Thomas Kinkade paintings, Patrick Nagel prints, or even the output of K-pop as art, even when they’re widely distributed or profit-driven. Mass accessibility doesn’t nullify artistic authorship. It just changes the audience

The same applies to commercial fragrance. Yes, I own and appreciate bottles from Prada, Burberry, and Gucci. Many of these perfumes are beautiful, well-structured, and worth celebrating. Commercial success doesn’t disqualify creative merit.

Some brands take it further. Their entire business model is built around creating dupes. There's no pretense, they're fully transparent about what they are doing: they openly market their products under the guise of being “inspired by” specific designer or niche fragrances, attempting to skirt legal responsibility while fully capitalizing on another perfumer’s creative labor. And while transparency is preferable to deception, let’s be clear: that’s not interpretation. That’s duplication.

And duplication is still duplication – whether you’re a billion-dollar brand or a one-person shop. It doesn’t remove the ethical breach – it just makes it easier to rationalize. Being small doesn’t give you license to steal.

Calling a product “inspired by” doesn’t change the fact that it only exists because someone else did the creative labor first.

Performance Isn’t Quality

Many consumers have been led to believe that the longevity – or "performance" – of a fragrance is synonymous with its quality. A common refrain: “The dupe of X lasts longer than the original Y. I’m not paying $200 for something that disappears in 30 minutes.”

But fragrance works best when it enhances, not announces, you. In the 1980s, so-called "powerhouse" fragrances could fill entire rooms with their scent, but they were also competing with environments full of cigarette smoke and synthetic air fresheners. Today, original fragrances are often designed to wear close to the skin, unfolding new layers as the day goes on. A citrus top note gives way to spice or floral notes, which eventually yield to woods and resin. That is intentional design, not underperformance.

A heavy overdose of woody amber may give the illusion of longevity, but it often flattens into a one-note room freshener. Performance isn’t the same as artistry.

A Better Point of Entry

Some consumers discover fragrance through dupes. That isn’t inherently wrong, but it points to a missed opportunity. If indie perfumers and retailers promoted discovery sets more often, we could provide an accessible entry point into fragrance that celebrates originality rather than imitation. You don’t need to commit to a full bottle to begin your scent journey.

Intent, Not Shame

The onus isn't always on the consumer when it comes to dupes. Sometimes a fragrance is introduced to you by your nose and nothing else. You like the smell and don’t realize it’s a copy. That’s not shameful, it’s common.

We shouldn’t blame consumers who find themselves in this situation. What we can do is educate, offer alternatives, and encourage curiosity. A more informed fragrance lover is one more likely to change their behavior.

Availability, Accessibility, and Global Disparity

In some regions, access to original fragrances is limited, cost-prohibitive, or even restricted due to cultural or religious reasons, such as prohibitions against alcohol-based products. These realities matter. And they’re not always served by the luxury market.

But there are alternatives to supporting dupe culture.

Many small, independent brands now create oil-based fragrances that are alcohol-free, often inspired by tradition, faith, or skin sensitivity. And they smell incredible. These brands don’t mimic others, they express themselves on their own terms, offering fragrance experiences rooted in care, craft, and cultural respect.

This is exactly why I created a spreadsheet of independent perfumers, sortable by region, country, and state or province. It includes whether you can sample in person, if sample purchases can be credited toward a full bottle, and international shipping options. There are original voices out there, you just need to know where to look.

The Environmental Cost

Finally, it’s worth considering the environmental impact of dupes. Many are produced with cheap materials, minimal regulatory oversight, and zero sustainability commitments. Unlike original perfumers – who often consider sourcing, biodegradability, and ecological responsibility – dupe manufacturers operate with different priorities. Supporting that model sends a message that speed and cost matter more than safety and stewardship.

So Why Does This Matter?

Perfume is art. And art deserves protection—even when the law fails to provide it.

Supporting dupes isn’t just about price; it’s about the kind of industry we choose to uphold.

The pursuit of olfactory conformity – wanting to smell like everyone else – is far less interesting than discovering what truly moves you.

There are perfumers across the globe creating original, unforgettable work – often at accessible prices – without stealing from anyone.

Fragrance dupes aren’t a victimless indulgence. They erode artistic trust, reward imitation over innovation, and tell creators their work has no value.

And if someone steals your work one day, would you want to be told it doesn’t matter?