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The Story
There is a coolness in iris root that feels like powder settled on old stone.
That chill comes through early, lifted by bright citrus and the raw, rooty strangeness of carrot seed. Frankincense and myrrh follow with resin and a thread of smoke, the kind that hangs in the air long after the fire is out. Then something warmer turns up — raspberry, ripe and faintly jammy, softening the powder from within. Underneath it all, agarwood from Cambodia and India does the deep work: dark, smoky, faintly animal, never sugary. Patchouli and vetiver hold the earth in place. Sandalwood, musk, and Peru balsam smooth the edges until what remains is creamy, balsamic, and warm. It suits slow evenings and cold rooms, and anyone drawn to woods with dust and shadow in them rather than polish.
The Notes
The Perfumer
The Brand
