No. 5 EDP

This works. The EDP version takes everything intimidating about No. 5 parfum and makes it actually wearable for 2024. Those aldehydes still announce your entrance, but they settle into something you can wear to a Tuesday morning client meeting without your coworkers thinking you raided your grandmother's vanity. I get a solid 7 hours before it becomes a skin scent, with moderate projection that reads as polished, not overpowering.

Let me be clear: this isn't trying to be trendy. The jasmine and rose heart is unapologetically classic, supported by those clean white florals that made this formula legendary in the first place. I wore it to three different work events last month and got the exact reaction you'd expect. Professional, expensive, untouchable in the best way. My yia-yia would approve, which is saying something.

The downside? You're paying $150 for name recognition and heritage, not groundbreaking performance. Seven hours is respectable but not exceptional at this price point. And if you're under 30, this might read as 'trying too hard' rather than 'effortlessly sophisticated.' Know your audience.

Look, I'm going to say something controversial: No. 5 EDP is genuinely brilliant, and not just because every creative brief since 1921 has tried to capture its magic. When my colleague Sarah wears this to client meetings, she becomes the person who definitely went to Oxford and summers in the Cotswolds (she's from Slough and holidays in Center Parcs, but that's beside the point). Those aldehydes hit you first — think expensive soap that costs more than your monthly Oyster card — followed by this perfect storm of jasmine and rose that somehow doesn't scream 'bridal bouquet.'

The thing about No. 5 EDP is it's the parfum's sensible younger sister. Still sophisticated enough for boardroom presentations, but won't clear out the Pret queue at lunchtime. I've watched this fragrance work its magic from 9am strategy sessions to 7pm client drinks, performing consistently without that nuclear projection that makes you the villain in a packed lift. Seven hours of solid performance isn't groundbreaking in 2024, but it's respectable... like England's World Cup campaigns.

Here's the brief though: at £100+ for 50ml, you're paying the Chanel tax, and frankly, you're also paying for a scent that your date's mum probably wore to their graduation. Right? It's iconic, it's refined, it's everything a luxury fragrance should be. But ask anyone under 25 what they think of No. 5 and they'll tell you it smells like 'old lady perfume' (and I cannot stress this enough... they're not entirely wrong, even if they're missing the point entirely).