Oud Ispahan

The labdanum arrives first—resinous, amber-hued, with an almost burnt-sugar quality that immediately signals richness. Rose petals appear within moments, not fresh-cut but concentrated and syrupy, already entwined with the labdanum's sticky warmth. There's a fleeting sharpness, perhaps from the patchouli's green edges, before everything melds into a cohesive, honeyed-floral haze.

The patchouli fully emerges now, bringing its earthy, slightly mossy character to temper the rose's sweetness, creating a fascinating tension between opulence and restraint. The oud begins its quiet work, adding medicinal, woody shadows that give depth without dominating—it's the scent of aged wood in an antique shop rather than raw agarwood. The whole composition feels denser now, more resinous, as though the ingredients are folding into one another like layers of silk.

What remains is a beautiful, ambery wood-rose hybrid where individual notes become harder to separate. The sandalwood's creaminess comes forward, softened and slightly vanillic, whilst the labdanum continues its amber glow against skin. The rose persists as a ghost of its former self—no longer jammy but present as a rosy-woody warmth that clings intimately to the skin.