Choosing a perfume well and wearing it properly are two different skills, and the second can be learned in ten minutes. Almost everything that follows comes from one thing, already covered here: a perfume’s materials do not evaporate at the same speed, and heat speeds everything up.
Where to spray it
Heat does the work of diffusion. A perfume applied to a warm area unfolds; on a cold one, it stays where it is. That is why we aim for the neck, the base of the throat, the inside of the elbow, the inside of the wrist. These are not magic points; they are the places where blood runs close to the surface.
Hair holds perfume remarkably well, but alcohol dries it, so the nape is a better target than the lengths.
Clothing is another matter. Fabric has neither the warmth nor the chemistry of skin, so perfume behaves differently there: it moves less, lasts longer, and never quite becomes what it would have become on you. Add the risk of staining pale or delicate materials. Spraying it on clothing is not a mistake, but it is not the same as wearing it.
How much
Less than you think, and for a precise reason: you stop smelling your own perfume after a few minutes. The nose adapts to a constant smell and stops reporting it. The perfume has not gone; you have stopped having access to it, and that is the mechanism that drives most people to apply more.
Concentration matters too. An extrait carries a far greater load of materials than an eau de toilette, and is dosed accordingly. The useful guide is not a number of sprays but distance: your perfume should be noticeable to someone who comes close, not to someone who walks into the room.
Do not rub your wrists
The idea that rubbing crushes the molecules is false. If fragrant molecules were that fragile, putting on a coat would be enough to destroy a perfume.
Something else happens, and the outcome proves the advice right for the wrong reasons. Rubbing warms the skin and spreads the liquid over a wider area. Both speed up evaporation, and the most volatile materials pay the price. You break nothing: you simply burn through your top notes faster.
Spray, then let it dry without touching it.
When to judge it
Not at the counter. What you smell in the seconds after spraying is the most fleeting and least representative part of the composition.
You will notice that nobody agrees on how long to wait. The figures in circulation contradict one another from one source to the next, and that is to be expected: perfumery ranks its materials by evaporation speed, not in minutes, and that speed depends on the composition. A heavy woody perfume and a citrus do not settle in the same time.
The reliable guide, then, is not a length of time but an event. Wait until the top has gone. You will know: the bright opening falls away, and what remains is rounder, steadier. From that point you are truly wearing the perfume, and that is what you should judge.
And judge it on your skin. A blotter gives you the composition without the warmth, without the skin’s natural oils, without you. Perfumers use it to compare; it is not for deciding.
What layering does and does not do
Layering two perfumes does not create a third. It is what you hear most often, and it is what holds up least.
Every composition has been balanced against itself. Layering two is like having two full orchestras play in the same hall: what you get is not a new work but clutter, and the more insistent of the two wins.
What works is more modest. A single material beneath a full composition, to lean on one facet. A body product from the same line, which extends the base without adding anything. A light eau over a denser base, in that order and not the reverse. In every case the effect plays out in the base, because it is the part that lasts long enough to mingle with something else.
None of this is etiquette. These are consequences of the way a liquid evaporates on warm skin, and once learned, they stay learned.
