Enso

Like sunset over the ocean or sunrise from behind a canyon, there’s beauty in the world that is uncontested. Universal.

The scent of rose is like that. You may know someone who doesn’t like a particular rose perfume or soap or some way rose was used, but the pristine scent of rose? It’s like an olfactory sunset; a scent you’ll always be awed by, and never tire of.

That’s why rose is at the heart of the most widely loved perfumes; why you can’t have a ghalia without it.

And then you’ve got rose + oud, a duo that’s technically enough to qualify as a ghalia – a rose-oud melange was the signature scent of history’s most frag-obsessed Sultan, after all.

A fine rose-oud perfume is like sunset on a clear, mild, windless day. If there was ever an attar I’d put my name on, it would be on such a timeless duet.

Enchanted Rose is already easily one of the most decadent rose-oud perfumes you could ask for, an oud-rose extravaganza decked out with a bouquet of the world’s most exquisite roses lacquered in a precious mélange composed of vintage Myitkyina and Ta’ifi rose added in addition to the already Nha Trang-ed beauty.

That’s why I didn’t tamper with it too much to bring you Enso.

At some stage, whenever you compose a perfume, you’d have the neat compound – the attar, undiluted, without any additives or carriers. The attar is the foundation of what may become the perfume…

May become… because it inevitably ends up getting changed or tweaked in order to make it work as a spray. Certain smells belong in the attar domain, while certain notes start to fly when sprayed. The dynamic is different, and the perfumer has to account for that.

It’s almost pointless to go into an ATTAR vs SPRAY debate, except to say that it’s hard to argue that an attar gives you the most immediate, QHD experience of a composition. A spray perfume is meant to act a certain way, diffuse a certain way, project a certain way… unfold differently – compared to the primal whiff of a swipe directly on your skin where it’s just you and the naked fragrance.

So… Japanese rose, otto and absolute, Royal Ta’ifi from the 80s doused in more Ta’ifi blended into Burmese oud, also from the 80s – undiluted, unaffected, leaving a velvet trail on your skin.

A combo of rose and oud which now smells thicker, more intimate – 100% concentration where none of the notes tapered into the air mid-spray.

Of course, Enso isn’t just a rose-oud duo (for that, get Mélange Royale). It’s an EO-ed rose-oud kernal that gives of wafts of black tea because – well… who’s done that before? And pear shot up into a vein of saffron. And green mandarin thrown against a canvass of red roses.

And then more rose. Lots and lots of roses. The Sultan’s own Dehnal-Ward (easily among the smoothest ottos I’ve ever smelled) atop even more Royal Taifi. And beeswax because – well… have you smelled beeswax blended with pear and rose? It lets you smell sweetness from another planet.

Sure, rose can be cloying to some. Overly sweet if it’s not the best quality. But you can’t overdo the best roses on the planet. The finest harvests money can buy today in a Jacuzzi with the finest harvests money could buy. And when we’re talking about the Sultan’s money, you know you’re not getting dried scraps, but the freshest Ta’ifi petals picked that one time that year, early as they could that morning almost half a century ago.

And castoreum because… have you smelled pear essence injected with all those roses and ouds and pu-erh and black pepper and beeswax? The sweetness it adds and how it transmutes them into a diffusive blast of petals and oud smoke and spice bags popped open everywhere?

And Nha Trang to put your nose in a sling after an overdose of euphoria.

And more of that vintage Burmese oud’s purple resin on top of the vintage Burmese we already had in here because you don’t want that euphoria to end.

I can’t think of a trio to outdo the ripples of Vietnamese kinam Nha Trang oozes into a stream of ancient Burmese agarwood smoke that sticks to the jammy pollen chord of beeswax. And roses everywhere.

Did I mention the three-decades-old Tigerwood in here? Because that would just be off the hook. Malaysian Tigerwood’s darker resinous profile works magic with rose alone – but here adds a herbaceous tone absent from the other ouds’ more bitter, redder tone which turns a spray into a scent you don’t care to decipher – and instead just be enchanted by.

If Enchanted Rose (Pure Parfum) was a bit out of reach price-wise, then Enso gives you, not just everything its spray rendition would, but everything under an olfactory magnifying glass, fully-loaded, 100% neat.

If you’ve tried, or are fortunately enough to own Enchanted Rose then you will LOVE Enso.

If all this rose-oud talk is new to you……… get your nose ready is all I can say.