In The Name

Composing within a classical perfumery genre and showcasing fine materials is one thing. So is writing a technically correct piece of calligraphy.

But art begins where technique gives way to impact – in how the work moves you, arrests you, and forces attention.

That shift – from merely looking or smelling to lingering, questioning, and wondering – is what distinguishes art from craft.

Over centuries, artists have learned how to induce it: through specific color relationships, musical intervals, and, yes, through certain olfactory triggers that consistently carry greater weight.

This is why you and I respond to oud the way we do. Its capacity to inspire awe is not accidental. Certain flowers do the same – narcotic, expansive, commanding attention in a way lesser botanicals cannot.

So when composing a perfume that carries the Basmala, compromise is not an option. You reach for those elements that traditional cultures identified long ago as possessing greater spiritual gravity – scents that do not merely please, but hold your senses.

Classical art is about treading the line between individual expression and a heritage that took ages to refine – the act itself becoming an art form.

Because this limited-edition perfume is inspired by the calligraphy on the plaque, I wanted to give you a fragrance that draws on the same classical lineage. A classical style, yet one with my own ‘modern’ signature.

In The Name puts the classical ghalia lineup in full view – oud, rose, saffron, musk, ambergris – and lets you track each aromatic as it locks into the next. Instead of a mash-up as you’d get in modern ‘splash’ art, the composition is finely tuned to reveal the ingredients inside.

Straight away, there are waves of Royal Guallam. The piercing kinamic lift in the oud itself is the first thing you should seek out.

Then the top snaps into focus: Boswellia sacra frankincense, distilled to preserve its citrus-resin bite, and saffron-infused sandalwood with a golden-crimson glow. That pairing has a single purpose: to create a bright yet smooth top layer that joins the wafts of Vietnamese agarwood incense.

In fact, I used five varieties of frankincense to adorn Royal Guallam, along with Haitian amyris and tangerine – all chosen to accentuate that kinamic bite.

The heart is where the composition becomes even more compelling. Turkish rose bleeds its redness into the saffron and the oud – nothing jammy, nothing syrupy – producing a voluptuous yet tightly controlled saffron-rose-oud effect.

The rose doesn’t bloom. It rides the oud’s natural florals and adorns them, the way illumination beautifies calligraphy without overwhelming the letters.

The base is a ghalia in the old sense, not the marketing sense: aged, beach-combed ambergris for projection, and aged musk to stir up that oudifying depth – giving the oud a pulse and keeping the rose from floating away. I’ve also incorporated the so-called modern musks: hyrax, muskrat, and civet. Anyone familiar with how these perform in Iris Ghalia will understand the choice.

A measured dosage of vintage Mysore sandalwood (Santal Royale, distilled from 1980s Mysore granules) adds a creamy undertone. It’s unusual for a ghalia, but here it lends a restrained sense of regality to the oud-rose-saffron core. Introduce jambu laced with angelica root, and the Mysore turns more tenacious, a little less tame, better aligned with the bite of Royal Guallam.

What’s modern here is the finish.

Turkish calligraphers are meticulous about finishing. Writing is only the beginning; weeks of refinement follow, where lines are chiseled to perfection. Most stop when the text is complete. Masters continue until every line is exact.

Likewise, in this perfume, the scent progression unfolds in layers. The aromatics don’t dissolve into one another – they show themselves. You can smell the writing. The result mirrors the calligraphy on the plaque: classical form, but you can still see the finesse of the ink strokes and the line is perfectly clean.

I’ve composed my share of ghalias, always with an EO twist. With In The Name, I want to give you a ghalia where you can taste the botanicals – the regal oud, dense saffron, luscious rose, truffley musk, and saline gris – this is the one you keep reaching for, because it keeps revealing itself with every spray.

In the classical world this perfume comes from, art isn’t isolated. Calligraphy belongs on the wall. A tasbih belongs in the hand. Scent belongs on the body. Each is handled daily, slowly, attentively. They not only beautify the seemingly mundane but also actively prompt contemplation of beauty, transcendence, and art.

Extremely limited edition.

Limited to one bottle per customer.

Coupons/discounts not applicable.