Why did I gravitate towards Genres? And why are their formulas so elaborate—built like full compositions rather than simple accords?
The answer is interaction.
Materials don’t behave independently in a blend. Nothing is additive. Everything is contextual. Each addition reshapes perception—brightness, texture, diffusion, contrast. A material that seems minor on its own can rewrite how everything around it is read the moment it enters the structure. Formulation, then, is a system in motion. Every intervention changes the ground it stands on. You are not working inside fixed conditions. You are moving them as you go.
In perfumery, a Genre is infrastructure—an environment of interacting conditions rather than a fixed formula.
Some structures are too sparse to hold complexity. Introduce a material into a simple base, and it disappears or flattens. There is nothing for it to push against. But place it inside a Genre, and it meets resistance, contrast, and structure. It becomes legible through interaction.
This is why Genres are built like full compositions. They are not placeholders for ideas—they are complete fields designed to absorb change without collapsing.
Any blend built from a Genre carries that structure forward. The signature is already embedded—in the way tension holds, how contrast resolves, how space is carved.
A Genre is ultimately a strategy for reintroduction without repetition. A way to return to a familiar climate, introduce a new variable, and let both the system and the material reshape each other in real time.
This is the lure of Genres for me. They are more complex, more demanding to build, and carry higher risk—both in failure and in the risk of being constrained by their own internal logic. I don’t plan to build everything through this lens, but I think it is worth exploring in the next few projects.