You have heard, more times than you can count, “I wear [fill in a perfume], but it’s too heavy / light / floral / rich / powder / citrus for winter / spring / summer / fall.”

Do you need to change your scents with the seasons? Start with a truism: It’s always best to beware of false analogies. I can’t count the number of times I’ve heard, “I’m moving to my winter perfume because I just stored my summer clothing.” But perfume doesn’t keep you warm, so why are you equating them? Perfume may indeed convey a concept of warmth (Hypnotic Poison’s succulent vanilla) or of cool (Cartier’s Déclaration Bois Bleu, one of the most mesmerizing chilled breezes ever to come out of a bottle) or of autumn (I think Guerlain Homme is the modern equivalent of the impeccable grey wool suit slacks, the ones you put on after packing away the cotton khakis). And then there’s spring; crack open a bottle of Estée Lauder Pure White Linen Light Breeze, and in the dead freeze of early February you will still look around for your gardening equipment.

So sure, scents reflect seasons just as clothes and food and music do. Composers have regularly created their work based on the coming of snow or surfing, Igor Stravinsky’s The Rite of Spring and anything by The Beach Boys being merely the most obvious examples. Perfumer Bertrand du Chaufour set out explicitly to create a portrait of winter with L’Eau d’Italie’s Sienne l’Hiver (Sienna in Winter), but l’Eau d’Hiver? Hermès’ perfumer Jean-Claude Ellena told me, “It’s a warm water for winter.” And if you’re going to represent winter with a warm water…

Well, why not bring a shot of spring into a grey January day? Prada Infusion d’Iris. Tommy Girl, which is a liquid summer evening. Flower by Kenzo. In August, believe it or not, a very light application of Yves Saint Laurent’s Opium compliments the heat and adorns the sultry evening to perfection. Armani’s Acqua di Gio, both the masculine and the feminine, are what the French call polyvalent, basically they work in any season, and that goes for Lauder’s Sensuous as well. But Clinique Happy for Men (which women should wear as well) is absolutely summertime and equally absolutely terrific in November.

You have to wear wool in January. Clothing protects you, and your body needs to be kept warm. Your body wants salad in July and pot roast in December. But scent is pure 100% art. Your body doesn’t need it. It merely wants it, craves it, reacts to it. So transport yourself and those around you. Surprise them. Mix season and scent in counterintuitive ways. Flowers in winter, cashmere in summer, and delicate fruit from the warm tropics on a cold fall afternoon are all pure delight.