About the FRAGRANCE
Stories of how Talitha and Paul Getty, Paul Bowles, Mick Jagger, Yves Saint Laurent, and Veruschka all resided in Marrakesh have always inspired me. I’m intrigued by how they were enticed by the kingdom’s energy and dynamics and used it for influences and escapes: clothes, colors, music, interiors, and drugs. I wanted to create a warm and cocooning scent influenced by this era, based on personal reminiscences from the vibrant souks and lively markets in Morocco. Fragrance notes include White Honey, Amber, and Sandalwood.
INGREDIENTS
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FRAGRANCE NOTES
- White Honey
- Soft, sweet, and smooth. Light honey-like warmth with a clean, delicate floral sweetness and a creamy finish.
- Amber
- Warm, resinous, and slightly sweet. Soft balsamic richness with a smooth, golden warmth and a gentle powdery depth.
- Patchouli
- Earthy, woody, and slightly damp. Rich and deep, with hints of soil, dried leaves, and soft spice.
- Guaiacwood
- Smoky, woody, and slightly sweet. Dense, warm wood with a soft resinous depth and a smooth, lingering smokiness.
- Leather Accord
- Dry, warm, and slightly smoky. Smells like soft, worn leather with a subtle woody and resinous depth.
- Sandalwood
- Creamy, soft, and woody. Smooth warm wood with a gentle, slightly sweet and calming depth.
MY CULTURAL ROAD TRIP
The Fragrance Journey is based on the creator’s memoirs from Marrakesh, Morocco.
I meet with the taxi driver Said at the port of Tangier. He is my designated driver for the next couple of days. I am on a cultural road trip, exploring the kingdom. Ahead of every big crossing, I toss a dirham coin. That’s how we decide whether to make a right turn or take a left.
The Atlas Mountains rise far in the distance. As I enter the Kasbah, I can sense the logs still glowing from last night. The gigantic rustic leather-covered doors, in combination with the clay walls, create an ambiance from the past. An oil burner leaves a pleasant scent of woody notes. A woman in a long white linen kaftan passes by, leaving subtle notes of white honey, vanilla, and amber.
I leave the house and enter the courtyard, which is filled with lime and orange trees. The alley of old, quirky olive trees leads to the herb garden with wonderful scents of spices. The morning sun is beaming. My bare feet against the smooth black-and-white patterned tiles, I close my eyes and breathe in. My driver, Said, is sitting on the terrace, holding a hand-rolled cigarette in one hand and a sebsi full of smouldering kif in the other. Hashish fills the air with a sweet, soft aroma together with a fusion of Berber, African, and Arabic music.



