What follows is a personal story. But the fact that you landed here reading this means that you and I share certain sentiments. That’s why this is probably just the perfume you’re looking for. Let me explain.
It’s not even something most perfumers can afford to do for themselves. Perfume like this can’t be turned into a commercial product because it’s outrageously expensive to make, and you deplete a whole bunch of spectacularly rare ingredients in the process. That’s why I only made one bottle.
But when the only bottle ended up with a Buddhist monk whose students practically forced me to part with it (watch the video below for more on this), I decided to make a new batch.
I’ve sprayed guests with it and once attended a dhikr gathering wearing it (everyone could smell it, they told me afterward), but it was genuinely intended to be for personal use only. So, why are you reading this?
It wasn’t just that I needed a new bottle for myself. There were a few other reasons I decided to make more the second time around… and actually share a portion of it. Most importantly, because hard as you may look for it, there is no perfume like this. But there used to be…
The ancients used to carry musk pods right in their pocket — that was their perfume. People knew Ibn Mas’ud had visited a town because they could smell him long after he had left. The companions could tell the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) had been somewhere because his scent lingered to tell them so.
This has been on many people’s minds lately: what happened to perfume? Not studies in chemistry. Not the birth of a new kind of marketing where celebrity endorsement and nudity wiped away the essence of fine fragrance. What happened to perfume?
A musk pod bursts into chards of pepper and clove, with sex appeal tempered by real beauty. A scent that makes you wonder in awe at the smell of flower petals drunk on a generous dose of an age-old fixative. A scent you actually cherish for itself, rather than what you think it’ll do for you.
It’ll come as a shock to some. And that’s kinda the point. To wake up the sleeping dragon from a slumber induced by repeated injections of synthetic muscs and fixateurs over how many decades now. To let you taste a gourmet meal instead of another serving of McFragrance.
Some already thought EO No 2 was priced on the high end…… because they were comparing it to the price of your typical Happy Meal. But I knew for sure this private blend would never fly because it’d be ‘expensive’. Not overpriced, not inflated, but simply reflecting the quality and preciousness of the ingredients in a market that goes out of its way to disconnect you from nature with terrific — and terrifying, if you look closely — marketing.
Aside from precious jasmines, rose, and around forty other essential oils and absolutes, what makes the EO Private Blend so unique? For one, I practically used up ingredients I barely ever touched over the past ten years, and wiped out a large portion of vintage Irian Jaya oud, a series of rare roses (including Japanese rose), and fresh Siberian musk in vintage Mysore sandalwood.
On top of the Siberian Mysore, you don't just get plain alcohol as the carrier either (the industry standard, even for the niche-est perfumes). Instead, all of these precious ingredients were infused — entirely — into a pure deer musk tincture. This is the backbone and power drive of the perfume. The blast of spice amplified by a gush of animalics that speaks to your primal self… but is kept in check by the fusion of jasmines, rose, olde school Irian oud, and black tea steeped with blackberries.
Did we go overboard, or simply back to days when perfumery wasn’t defined, regulated or judged by ‘marketability’, growth scaling, and your department’s quarterly fincancial report? When what mattered was the smell.
EO Private Blend is exactly what you want to wear to stick it to the system and flaunt a fragrance so far out it even makes all the mainstream ‘noirs’ blush from shame. Here’s to perfume with pepper spitting musk that's potent, loaded and loud. Wear it around your neck, with your chin up proud.