Collectible PHI - Une Rose de Kandahar

Bitter almond and apricot kernel hit first, almost marzipan-like but saved from confectionery by the rasp of cinnamon bark and a bright squeeze of bergamot. The sweetness is immediate but complex, edged with spice that prickles at the nose. Within minutes, the rose begins its emergence—not fresh-cut, but concentrated and slightly jammy, as though petals have been macerated in apricot brandy.

The Afghan and Bulgarian roses take centre stage, their absolute richness creating an almost overwhelming floral density that the tobacco leaf tempers with its dried-fruit sweetness. Geranium adds a metallic, slightly soapy facet that prevents the composition from becoming too plush, whilst the spices recede into a warm haze. This phase is the most overtly feminine, yet the tobacco's earthiness and the faint leather undertones keep it firmly unisex territory.

What remains is surprisingly austere—the sweet elements have largely dissipated, leaving a skin-close veil of vetiver-tinged musk with whispers of patchouli and ambergris. The rose is now a memory, a powdery trace held together by tonka's hay-like vanilla and the faintest echo of cinnamon. It's warm but not heavy, intimate rather than projecting, like the scent of someone's neck after a long day.