Skip to content 
Welcome to Back of the Napkin, musings from Serviette for the cultured world. For those not yet apprised, Immacula, Serviette’s industrial take on tuberose, has officially sold out. The response has been overwhelming, and we can’t thank you enough for your support. If you missed out, we hope you’ll forgive the rather brief encounter.
The reactions to Immacula have gotten Serviette thinking about our cultural response to “vice” notes. (See: Immacula’s ionized steam and asphalt accords). They are notes of dubious repute that have been percolating outside the traditional vocabulary of perfume, and have become somewhat of a recurring house motif. “Trey has developed a real scent signature that I appreciate,” Jane Dashley noted on a recent episode of Fragraphilia. Why is it that we respond so well to scents with an element of “so bad (or so bad for you), it’s good?” How can we explain our newfound proclivity towards perfumes with notes that, on their own, may cause outright disgust?
According to Forbes, 2026 is officially the year of the “post-modern fragrance.” En masse, perfumers are forgoing mass-market appeal in favor of fragrances that impart stories and experiences—often turning to less traditionally appealing notes like cigarette smoke, (with its mothball-like facets), gasoline, and even the rather evocative “hot fax machine.”
Perhaps it’s a response to the subtle musks and “your skin but better” scents that dominated the late 2010s and early 2020s. Or maybe it’s a matter of specificity: if one wants to be transported elsewhere, an instantly recognizable aroma—say, freshly paved asphalt—is an extremely effective way to get there. (Our olfactory bulb sits directly next to the structures in our brain responsible for emotion and memory, after all). Either way, it’s clear that our culture’s increasing homogeneity plays a role—while these fragrances are highly individual, they all point to a desire to reject the prevailing beauty standards. A bit of scented rebellion, if you will.
To Serviette, context is everything. Immacula, for example, presented quite a challenge: how to take tuberose—a creamy white floral typically presented as either bridal or tropical—and turn it into something wild and seductive? Here, vice notes played an integral role. The mineralic, almost sweaty facets of ionized steam and sticky asphalt cut through tuberose’s heady, bubblegum-like nuances, creating a fragrance that feels as sizzling and alive as the New York City streets themselves. Though you may turn your nose up at construction sites in passing, the recontextualization of these industrial aromas in Immacula may just leave you hooked.
Vice notes thereby offer an exciting challenge for perfumer and wearer alike, opening up a different way of experiencing fragrance: how can we situate these unconventional scents so they feel exciting, evocative, even seductive? Whether combining rose with diesel exhaust or marijuana with a bouquet of fresh-cut flowers, the pleasure lies in the tension—between beauty and abrasion, familiarity and surprise. The answer, perhaps, is simply to remain open, curious, and unafraid to break a few conventions along the way.