About the FRAGRANCE
Purple Haze is evocative of the Woodstock Music and Art Fair in 1969 as well as Lennon and Ono’s staged ‘Bed-ins for Peace’ in Montreal and Amsterdam, also in 1969. On a personal note, the perfume reflects the legendary artist Keenak who I met in Bahama Village, Key West. Guitar on his back, snake skin boots, skinny jeans and long hair. The fragrance Purple Haze is a tribute to creativity, freedom and indulgence and sets the ambience for 19-69. Fragrance notes include Cannabis Accord, Violet Leaf and Patchouli.
INGREDIENTS
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FRAGRANCE NOTES
- Corsican Cypress
- Fresh, dry woods with a green, aromatic character. Evokes the scent of cypress trees, crushed needles, and clean forest air.
- Cannabis Accord
- Green, herbal, and earthy with a dry, leafy character. Reminiscent of freshly crushed cannabis leaves rather than smoke.
- Violet Leaf
- Green, crisp, and slightly earthy. Smells like freshly crushed leaves with a subtle watery and floral nuance.
- Patchouli
- Earthy, woody, and slightly damp. Rich and deep, with hints of soil, dried leaves, and soft spice.
- Black Pepper
- Dry, sharp, and spicy. Warm with a fresh, slightly woody bite and a crisp aromatic heat.
- Dry Woods
- Clean, woody, and slightly rough. Feels like sun-dried timber with a soft, airy, and neutral dry warmth.
Same scent, different ritual
KEENAK AND I
The Fragrance Journey is based on the creator’s memoirs from Key West.
Key West is one of the most inspiring places I know. It is so empowering and plays all my senses and emotions. Swaying palm trees, orchids, beautiful bougainvillea and situated on the most southern tip of the US, only 90 miles from Cuba. The motto of this melting pot is “One Human Family”.
This is also where the story begins with me and Keenak. I had already spent a few seasons in Key West and was getting to know the locals. Only a few yards away this eccentric character was passing by, just outside my favorite coffee shop in Bahama Village. Guitar on his back, snake skin boots, skinny jeans, black silk shirt open all the way down to his belly button. Add to that: layers of necklaces, bracelets and headband under his trademark, a black feathered hat. Who was this man? Was he an old hippie, a survivor from Woodstock? Or maybe a rockstar?
I was captivated and knew I just had to meet him again. I started to ask around the town for clues. They told me he was a busker living on a boat. Others said he was a talented musician with a special liking for booze and psychedelic substances, sleeping rough under a bridge. One day I bumped into him yet again. I had been getting groceries at Faustos with my three-year-old daughter when I spotted him sitting on the pavement, casually playing his guitar. There he was, this mysterious man from a different time and place. We hit it off right away and Keenak invited me to come by his place for a fluid lunch, or perhaps a few uppers if I so preferred, the following day.
His trailer park was in the shady badlands of Stock Island, a tiny parcel of land just across Cow Key Channel. We talked about life, music and literature. My European heritage and his life as a roving artist. I was intrigued by the quirky scent that embraced his home. I recognized weed, patchouli, vanilla and wood. When I mentioned this he told me about a special patchouli oil he had been using since he was a young man in “Nam”. The ladies loved it so why break a winning concept he said and laughed. Then he leaned over towards me and whispered “But man, if you really want to know my true secret spice, it is the weed. The best one is ‘Purple Haze’, but it’s fucking hard to find these days.”