Sultan Red Rose Attar

The original release had an extremely raunchy description which we’ve been told was… too much.

You see, just as certain perfumers have gotten requests from their significant other to bottle up their musky armpit sweat and make a perfume out of it, this is a bottled up memory of coming of age, elevated to the immaculate olfactory vistas of none other than a Sultan’s finest rose harvest.

Perfume can be intensely carnal, and this attar is an olfactory portrait of the all-too-human eroticism we are meant to indulge in, not deny. The scent of the ointment that sticks to her hair that sticks to your cheek. The scent of rose, of the Himalayan oyster, the Greeks’ red grape. One that makes you wonder, when did the rose gardens dry out? When did rose beds and the raunchiest musk lose their carnal intimacy? 

Through the world’s most precious rose and pure musk, Sultan Red Rose Attar sets out to conjure not animalics but these human, all too human odors that we encounter in our most passionate moments.

Just like that plastic flower at the department store gives you as much oxygen as the plastic pot it’s in, muscone isolates and lab-made rose stir up sales, streamline and cut costs, but are bereft of soul. That’s why natural ingredients matter, and why I used aromatics that are the creme de la creme in each genre, some of which I’ve had to wait years to acquire, others I’d kept for years waiting for the right time to bring them out. (The previous edition sold out four years ago!)

Sultan Rose Attar was originally composed of three ingredients. Sultan Red Rose Attar adds thirty more, including twelve-years-aged Imphal oud for its sleek orange zest and virgin musky allure. On top of that, a thick dose of wild Filarias to round the scent out with an uber-rare oudilicious base. 

The Sultan’s private rose harvest from the early 80s – the brightest otto, oud dripping from its petals, infused into musk pods potent with primal charm. A motif that celebrates love and rosy-cheeked blushing and hot-blooded play. A risque aphrodisiac that kisses your skin and stokes the titillating flame between the two of you.

This oud parfum is my humble rendition of those timeless fragrances so pheromonal you feel that sultry musc a la musc carnal lick-your-lips primacy, just as you felt it (or will feel) for the first time on your wedding night. When you felt it again, but deeper, as you dreamt of holding her hand. As the poets taught you, to fancy a kiss. And more than that.

Older as I now am, I remember fondly and uncomfortably my coming of age. A single swipe of this red rose pastes it all onto a canvas for me to behold. My finest ouds, a Buddhist master’s finest sandalwood, a Sultan’s oldest rose harvest, all in a scent that lets you look back and remember your first look at her, her first look at you. Love. And lust.

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