oud

A handful of perfumery materials possess the gravitas to stand entirely on their own. Agarwood — known as oud (from the Arabic word simply meaning “wood”) — is one such treasure. This prized oil has travelled through the centuries and across continents, worn by nobility — sultans and maharajas alike.

Oud falls within the wood family but has this marvelous, ambery depth, with just a hint of smokiness and animalic qualities that develop into a sweet benzoin. This very depth makes oud not only interesting in and of itself, but also a remarkable fixative for fleeting notes.

• Woody
• Amber
• Sweet

saffron

Upon blind smelling saffron, most wouldn’t immediately think in terms of spice. Saffron lacks the peakedness and aromatic freshness of other spices (cinnamon, sage, or rosemary, for example). Instead, saffron brings with it a soft, velvety suede.

Since saffron is made from the stigmas of the saffron crocus and not from a herb, it has a floral nuance as well. Those stigmas are picked by hand, one at a time. To yield just one kilogram, harvesters must pick upwards of two hundred thousand saffron crocuses. Needless to say, dried saffron is expensive. And it smells of money as well.

• Floral
• Suede
• Spicy

rose

Early morning hours, when petals quiver under the weight of dewdrops, that is when to smell the roses. In nature, the rose fragrance presents itself with a light freshness, as opposed to steam-distilled oil, which is quite intense.

Imagine all those emblematic molecules captured and forced in a single vial: beta damascenone (rose with boozy plum), geraniol (freshly printed books), linalool (waxy citrus), farnesol (linden blossom into sweet anise), myrcene (forest floor), and finally, rose oxide (bitter greenery) which ties everything together. One must simply resist the megadose.

The rose oil we use is Bulgarian, widely considered the finest there is. Fresh and green, but has this dirty little twist to it — making it the perfect companion to the mild-mannered oud.

• Floral
• Green
• Herbal citrus

orange blossom

Orange flowers, in perfumery, come from the bitter orange tree. When the flowers are steam-distilled, the result is neroli. Or, the floral note can be extracted by means of enfleurage: the flower’s scent is absorbed into an odorless fat, and the oil is finally extracted from that fat using alcohol. That is orange blossom. Neroli is greener and more bitter, calling to mind the classical eau de cologne. Orange blossom, by contrast, is warm and sweet, open and majestic — less fatigued by process.

• Citrus floral
• Orange
• Honey

birch tar

Rectified birch tar is, as one would expect, smoky in character. The tar is unusable in its raw state, but through repeated steam distillation the unwanted byproducts are removed. This is the rectification process. And the result? Phenolic, like a peaty Scotch, with an intriguing medicinal edge. As the lighter, smoky molecules fade, you are left with an oily sweetness that is priceless.

• Smoky
• Medicinal
• Sweet

black tea

Unlike green or oolong, black tea leaves are fully oxidized before the light roast, a process that darkens the leaf, concentrates the tannins, and draws out their characteristic depth. Black tea speaks with quiet distinction. Earthy and dry, with a faint orchid-like floralcy, it settles into a delicate fruitiness, reminiscent of lychee or quince.

• Earthy
• Orchid floral
• Delicate fruit

tomato leaf

Stroke the stem of a tomato plant and its waxy, hairy skin leaves a fragrance on your fingers unlike any other. Metallic-green and exhilaratingly fresh, at once familiar and startling.

There is a technical facet to its brightness — echoes of pine turpentine, or linseed oil, some say. This balance of natural rawness and polished precision makes tomato leaf unforgettable. Buzzing, sparky, positively brimful of life.

• Green
• Technical
• Metallic

castoreum

Few notes in perfumery carry such a charged history. Castoreum — the very name from Latin for “beaver” — was once gathered from the animal’s castor sacs, tucked beneath its tail. Today, no beavers are involved: the scent is artfully recreated from synthetics and botanicals.

The castoreum note is first and foremost leathery and animalic, primal and refined in equal measure. In the drydown, it presents a semblance of vanilla — not the pastry, vanillin kind, but something rawer. Like the pod itself.

• Leathery
• Animalic
• Vanilla pod-like

cinnamon

It’s in your can of cola, chewing gum, and buns. Cinnamon is deeply loved and truly omnipresent. There is a case to be made that it is one of the most common perfumery materials in daily life. Nevertheless, boring it is not.

The oil has a camphorous note, bordering on bready mint, with a touch of eugenol — the molecule it shares with both clove and basil. Cinnamon oil also contains cinnamaldehyde, which provides its characteristic and unmistakable profile. In the drydown, a warm, balsamic wood note emerges. The essential oil is, after all, extracted from the bark of a tree. Deeply comforting.

• Spicy
• Woody
• Camphorous