O Rose thou art sick:
William Blake’s The Sick Rose, versioned by me
Hell of sick, fire: especially
In that fab ‘fit: floribundant,
Centiflolial, imbricated,
Like those giant bronze lotuses
Under antique Buddha statues,
Or the most perfect artichoke,
Or Roger Daltrey’s hairdo
In the early mod days.
Verily, the invisible peptide worm,
Injected in the night
And its sudden howling storm of pure desire
Has found out thy bed
Of coral, pearly blush,
Variegated, peach, canary,
Flame, oxblood, ruby, mauve,
Mushroom, crimson, and
Even lavender joy!
And his dark secret limerence
Does (quelle douce ivresse!) my life destroy!
How It Started
Long story short: I got stout from stress and age, started Tirzepatide, and something in my brain transformed. It was as if someone turned up the brightness on my olfactory bulb to the extent that all other senses seemed strangely muted. I eat enough but feel fairly indifferent to food. What I crave – desperately, irrationally, manically – is scent. I went from being someone with only a mild interest in perfumes and the idea that I was allergic to them (only to some natural fragrances, it turns out) to being someone with a spreadsheet titled “Perfume Organ” (in homage to des Esseintes, whose very name sounds like “scent”) with 288 entries of fragrances, though most of them are tiny sample vials. The spreadsheet contains everything from luxury fragrances to mysterious oils poured from anonymous aluminum cans in Brooklyn. I make very little distinction between the two.
I had the idea that I don’t actually love rose perfumes all that much, but there are 80 mentions of the word rose on the concordance I kookily had the robot make from my spreadsheet, and it seems I am in possession of about a dozen actual rose perfumes. Perhaps it might be more accurate to say that they, along with all of the others, have possessed me.
The impressions that follow are not in order of preference, partly because the one I know to be my favorite, Enigma of Taif, has gone missing. Wondering why? Perhaps because it is…an enigma. [brief silence while you take that in]
Enigma Aporia
Enigma of Taif: One ought to know what Taif roses are, because…isn’t the word itself just so beautiful? It’s not a straight diphthong in Arabic; there is a little glottal stop between the vowels. Don’t we need more sounds like that in relatively lazy English? As to the luxurious flowers,the Perfume Society informs us:
Enigma of Taif is a newish fragrance (2025) by Swiss Arabian, a house that is known for its beautiful blends. Its note list is luscious to read:
Top notes are elemi, Plum, Pink Pepper, Cardamom and Black Pepper; middle notes are Taif Rose, Saffron, Violet, Olibanum and Osmanthus; base notes are Oak Tree, Amber, Molasses, Labdanum and Vetiver.
All of these components, despite their number and variety, are in service to the rose at the perfume’s center. I’d love to say more about it, but since I can’t seem to find it anywhere, a more detailed impression will have to wait. Suffice it to say, for now, that it just sends me into ecstatic spirals when I sniff it.
Like, Literally, Roses
I started my rose investigation session today with my purest roses:
Bulgarian Rose: this vial was given to me by a Bulgarian poet at the Curtea de Argeş Poetry Nights festival in Romania in 2018. This rose is very literal, a rose I might smell in the bower of my coop garden, a little metallic, a little spicy, decidedly sweet. I imagine the blossoms a pale coral of medium size.
Tea Rose by Perfumer’s Workshop: This one is actually a blend, and an EDP rather than an oil, but to my nose it smells exactly like the rambling, pale pink, tiny tea roses that have gone feral all over Bolinas. It’s lighter than Bulgarian rose, and a little pepper, just like the real things. The note list: Peony and Chamomile; middle notes are Bulgarian Rose, Damask Rose and Tea Rose; base notes are Geranium, Violet Leaves and Cedarwood. Somehow the perfumers managed to convey the lightness of this rose variety with the added notes.
Damascus Rose: This one is unbranded, bought in bulk at Anwaar Co on Atlantic Avenue not too far from Smith St. I must say that I absolutely LOVE shopping here. The fellow behind the counter is congenial, laughs a lot, and is so patient with me wanting to smell absolutely everything. The older gentleman who I believe owns the shop is also lovely; he praised me for preferring oils to alcohol perfumes, and according to the younger guy, he applies the strongest, most barnyard-y oud oil to his garments. We asked him, laughing, if animals follow him around when he did that. Anyway, this oil is GORGEOUS. I don’t know if it is a blend or not. These essences just get poured from aluminum cans, and they certainly are not on Fragrantica. But this rose, I can say, is richer, rounder, sweeter, and jammier than the other roses I have mentioned so far. You will not pay a lot for a little vial of this. Maybe $10-15.
Rose + Oud: The Everly Brothers
Rose de Ambre [sic] by Al Mahas is a cheap thrill. I paid 9.99 on Amazon for a little roll-on in this cunning round bottle: The published notes are: Rose (Bulgarian and Turkish), oud (Agarwood), vanilla, and violet. Rose and oud together are like John and Paul or, better yet, The Everly Brothers. The oud brings the rose down to earth somehow, into the lower registers. This arrived with the cap broken, which is a bit of a drag, but I can deal with it because it smells so profoundly delicious.
Sahara Rose Absolute by Habibi NYC offers a generous helping of wood and spices with this desert rose. It’s got one of those note pyramids that set off a serious desire mechanism in me: A cool breeze of Armoise, Cinnamon Leaf, Birch, Cardamom, Lavender, and Golden Sugar. Heart: A smoldering core of Taif Rose, Saffron, Plum, Leather, and Cypress. BaseL A sensual, smoky finish of Patchouli, Vanilla, Tonka, Amber, Sandalwood, and Cedarwood.
If you like your rose scents to take you on a journey, this is a beautiful choice. Habibi NYC has a discovery kit that is very worth exploring for $40.
The Glory of Naseem
Arzan, a concentrated perfume oil by Naseem, is one that sends me into ecstasies. I discovered it in a Bangladeshi grocery store in my neighborhood. They let me sniff it but because no one knew the price, I left the shop empty-handed. Luckily, I was able to order it online. Naseem actually has a pretty good USA website and they ship out quickly. The notes: Top Notes: Rose, Red fruits/ Middle Notes: Amber, Vanilla, Sandalwood/ Base Notes: Patchouli, Musk. Maybe it’s the gourmand facets, but this perfume actually makes me salivate, and it’s as if my nose gets welded to my arm when I wear it. The bottle is soooooo pretty, and the sale price is $24.99. I kind of can’t recommend this highly enough.
Zain is another irresistible rose-forward Naseem attar. Here’s their ad copy:
“Zain Attar is a luxurious oriental-woody-musky fragrance that opens with the elegant blend of Turkish rose and vanilla, offering a rich and floral introduction. The heart reveals a beautiful fusion of Bulgarian rose, violet, and oud, adding depth and complexity. The fragrance settles into a warm, resinous base of benzoin, resinoid, white musk, and amber notes, creating a refined, captivating finish that is both comforting and sophisticated.”
They aren’t just bragging. This thing is sublime. The traditional brass bottle alone is worth the $29.99 price tag, at least to me, who fetishizes such things. I’d say that compared to Arzan it is somehow thicker and deeper.
Elsewheres: Olfactory Appropriations
Dopamine Rose by l’Epoque is a fruity crowd-pleaser: Top notes are Raspberry, Rhubarb, Strawberry and Marshmallow; middle notes are Rose, Ozonic notes and Cyclamen; base note is Cashmere Musk. There is something green about this scent, perhaps due to the ozonic notes and cyclamen. It’s lovely and pleasant, but I’m not sure it takes me “elsewhere” enough.
Persian Rose by Pacifica was discontinued and then revived because so many customers clamored for it. I actually don’t love it as much as some of Pacifica’s other scents, like their Amber Cocoa and Sugared Apricot, but it’s still really pretty. Smelling it this round, I seemed to perceive some sort of lemongrass or citrus,and the published notes bear this out: Key Notes: Rose Water, Bulgarian Rose Oil, Violet, Tangerine, Myrrh, Amber. For $22, one could do much worse. If you are less enamored of oudish notes than I am and want to stick to western style fragrances, this one is a good choice.
Lettre de Pushkar (Ella K.), on the other hand, is meant to evoke…Pushkar, Rajasthan, one of India’s oldest and holiest cities renowned for its white edifices. I haven’t been there in real life, though given time and money (please, I need time and money!), it might be one of the first places I’d be inclined to visit. That said, as Fragrantica writer has pointed out [link], the structure of this perfume is western, not Indian. Here are the notes.
Saffron, nutmeg, cinnamon/ Rose, orange blossom, cypriol/ Patchouli, vetiver, vanilla, musk
The top-note spices greet the nose first, and along with the other ingredients, cradle the rose at the center. The scent feels a tiny bit lactonic, maybe from the vanilla.
I Can’t Really Smell It
Portrait of a Lady (Frederick Malle, Louis Malle’s nephew). So much has been written about this perfume, and so much of it is contradictory, that I hardly know where to begin. People think it is a masterpiece, too masculine, for grandmas, too spicy, just a rose perfume, inexpertly reformulated, the most gorgeous perfume ever created, that it may just be a case of, well, you should get a decant and see for yourself what you think. As for me, I don’t know…I barely smell a trace of “something nice.” Anosmia? Skin chemistry? Puzzling indeed … .If I am indeed anosmic to this thing that people mostly praise to the skies, how very tragic!
Otohime 