Resins smell like the amber-golden aftermath of a forest fire—warm, slightly sticky, deeply comforting. Imagine inhaling the scent of a church's incense, but earthier: there's honeyed sweetness mixed with subtle bitterness, a whiff of burnt wood and smoky vanilla. It's like pressing your nose against aged leather that's been warmed in sunlight, with an almost medicinal undertone. The aroma clings to your skin and clothes, leaving a lingering, almost resinous residue in the air.
Resins come from the hardened sap of trees—frankincense from the Boswellia tree (Arabian Peninsula), myrrh from Commiphora species (East Africa), and benzoin from the Styrax tree (Southeast Asia). Trees secrete these substances as a defence mechanism against wounds and insects. Historically harvested for rituals and medicine, resins are now extracted through bark incision, allowing sap to oxidise and harden naturally. Some, like labdanum, are solvent-extracted from plant material or lab-synthesised to capture their essence chemically.
Resins anchor fragrances, providing warmth and longevity. They're the "glue" that binds volatile top notes to the skin, creating depth and complexity. Perfumers layer them with florals or woods to add richness, or pair them with citrus for contrast. They're base notes that evolve slowly, revealing sweet, smoky, or creamy facets as the fragrance develops throughout the day.
Surprising harmonies
Penhaligon's
Prada
Zoologist
Zoologist
Yves Saint Laurent
Pierre Guillaume
Stéphane Humbert Lucas
Acqua di Parma
Tom Ford
Zoologist
Rammstein
L'Artisan Parfumeur