There’s a long-running trope in perfume advertising that perfume speaks, and what it broadcasts is a message about its wearer.

In the 1950s, many perfumes spoke the message of feminine sexuality, a subversive message that was only socially acceptable to be spoken subliminally and invisibly, in perfume. In the 1950s perfume ad for Primitif, under the image of a sultry super-vixen with half-parted lips who looks like she just jumped from the cover of a pulp novel, a tagline asks, “Why not let your perfume say the things you would not dare to?”

In Guerlain’s Chant d’Aromes ad from 1965, we’re told that a great perfume must do two things: “It must express something for a woman that she would like to express herself, and it must be said in away that can be understood by men.” And in a Nuance ad from 1978, a few years before the big-shouldered 1980s fragrances such as Giorgio and Christian Dior’s Poison shouted their messages, women were told their perfume shouldn’t be too strong or loud. “If you want to capture someone’s attention,” it advised, “whisper.”

Perfumes still “say” things, of course, but in a post-signature scent era, when women (and men) are offered upwards of 1,000 new fragrances a year to choose from, most people express different things with their perfumes, depending on their moods, the event they’re going to, what they’re wearing, or whatever they happen to grab on their dressers. Are these eternal, “essential” truths about their wearers? Not so much, since perfume can be applied and taken off as easily as a Roberto Cavalli leopard print maxi-dress or an L.L. Bean down vest-jacket.

Here are some of the most popular perfume families — and what they say about you to others.

Citrus/Marine/Ozonic (i.e. “clean”) – You probably carry hand sanitizer in your purse and consider organizing the contents of your purse as one of your hobbies. No-nonsense, unsentimental, and efficient, you are the leader of the pack, and probably prefer Tory Burch flats to Louboutin blood-red-heeled stillettos.

Floral – You like baking cookies, hand-writing thank you notes, and the idea of true love. You are a mix of introverted and extroverted. You project a conventional femininity that some would describe as “classic.” To you, perfume means “flowers,” and you don’t see any need to question what has worked for millennia.

Fruity and Fruity-Florals - Bubbly, flirty, and fun, you don’t take anything too seriously, and you’re the person people invite to their cocktail parties to get the festivities going. You’re open and friendly.

Gourmand – You are romantic and seductive. After all, you want to smell like vanilla, chocolate, praline, and cotton candy — things someone could take a big bite out of. Generous and larger than life, you’re not sure why someone would decorate her apartment in an all-beige color scheme when purple leopard-spotted wallpaper is available. In spite of the va-va-va-voom quality of the fragrances you like, you are also a comfort seeker. You probably own a hidden pair of jeggings you wear underneath your Snuggie on cold nights on the couch while eating bonbons.

Oriental — Like the gourmand lover, you prefer perfumes that contain sweet notes of vanilla and amber, but they also need dark and mysterious notes such as frankincense and myrrh. Romantic and sensitive, you live in your own world, or at least do your best to make the one you’re in conform to your dreams. Some might describe you as “intense,” others a “drama queen.” When your perfume contains the “tears” or resins that “weep” from the barks of trees when they’re wounded, as labdanum and balsams do, what do they expect?

Mossy and Woody — You may be living in the 21st century, but you’re what some might have described in the past as a “dame,” and maybe even a “dame with moxie.” Like the gal below, no one is going to find you sipping on an Appletini or wearing pink. More than likely, you’ll be the one drinking a bitter espresso in the corner café reading Camus, Sheila Heti, or the DSM5 — for fun. On a sunny Saturday afternoon. You’re probably a Scorpio.

Leather/tobacco/musk/oud/incense: Voted in high school “most likely to grow up to be an international spy,” your Platonic ideal of a good night out is donning your vintage Yves Saint Laurent “Le Smoking” suit, drinking single-malt scotch neat at a dive bar with a mysterious stranger you just picked up at an art gallery in NYC’s Chelsea neighborhood, and making out with him — or her — in the back of a taxi cab.