Ah, roses. As you may imagine (and regulars here know), with a pen name like Old Herbaceous, it is likely that I love roses. And I do – especially the highly fragrant English Roses hybridized by the late David Austin. As of last count, I am growing 14 of them, mostly in large pots. I’ve even visited the amazing display by David Austin Roses at the RHS Chelsea Flower Show! One rewarding aspect of seeing many varieties together in real life is that one can appreciate the different scents they emanate, as well as their different shapes and colors. Below are some photos from my terrace:
The fragrance of roses is actually a very complex ballet of many different molecules. As the American Rose Society notes, different varieties can smell quite different from each other, though recognizably and undeniably “rose”. According to ARS and the website Flower Power, “Rose scents fall into seven distinct categories. They are: rose (or damask), nasturtium, orris (which is similar to violets), violets, apple, clove and lemon (the fruit, not the blossoms). There are also twenty-six other less common aromas that can be discerned. Among them are: honeysuckle, moss, hyacinth, honey, wine, marigold, peppers, parsley, and even fruity raspberry.” These different nuances present an irresistible opportunity to perfumers: they can create endless variations by emphasizing one facet or another of a rose accord’s complicated structure. The Perfume Society says that rose is a note in at least 75% of traditionally feminine fragrances and at least 10% of traditionally masculine fragrances. While many perfumistas dislike rose notes in perfume, it may be that they haven’t found the right rose yet, since there are so many, varying widely from the classic rose-scented soap your older relatives may have used. In fact, one of my favorite perfume houses focuses almost entirely on rose-centered fragrances: Les Parfums de Rosine, founded by the late Marie-Helène Rogeon.
I’ve written about many of the rose fragrances I own in past years’ “Roses de Mai Marathon”, but this month I have some new ones with which to illustrate “rose” as a note in fragrance. The newest in my collection is The Coveted Duchess Rose, from Penhaligon’s “Portraits” collection and created by perfumer Christophe Raynaud. It is an eau de parfum that Fragrantica classifies as an “amber floral”. I think that’s a misnomer; the “amber” quality is due to a vanilla accord which, oddly, isn’t listed as a note on Fragrantica but is listed on the brand’s website. Other notes are Rosa centifolia (one of the varieties most used in perfume), mandarin orange, musk, and “woody notes.” The mandarin orange note opens the fragrance, which quickly pivots to a beautiful, fresh, classic rose accord. As it dries down, Duchess Rose gets warmer and muskier in a soft progression toward its base notes. The rose accord is evident throughout, but the vanilla becomes an equal partner in its dance after a couple of hours. One of the things I like about this fragrance is that it starts out very dewy and fresh, because of the mandarin orange, then slowly warms up, with the floral aspect strongest in its heart phase. It reminds me of a sunny English summer day, dawning cool and fresh, the light becoming stronger as the sun rises, then warming into late afternoon.
Probably the most unusual new rose fragrance in my collection is Miguel Matos’ Miracle of Roses, which comes as an extrait. I was able to try it and buy it this spring in Barcelona, at The Perfumery (if you get a chance, do go visit this wonderful shop with its many niche and artisanal perfumes!). It is named for a legend about St. Elizabeth of Portugal, a medieval queen. M. Matos tells the story:
“Elizabeth was born in Zaragoza, Spain in 1271, she was the daughter of Peter III of Aragon and was married off to King Denis of Portugal in 1282. Throughout her life, Elizabeth demonstrated a great compassion to the poor and legend says she would leave the palace in disguise, in order to take food for the less fortunate.
The Miracle of Roses happens one day when the king discovered that Elizabeth was leaving the palace to take food to the poor. This is something that the queen had been forbidden to do. The king had threatened to lock her up and she was to never leave the palace again if the disobeyed. Despite this, the Queen never stopped feeding the poor and every day she would leave the palace and help her people.
One winter day, Elizabeth left the palace carrying pieces of bread hidden in her dress. As the King saw her going out, he asked, “What you are carrying?” She answered, “Roses, my lord.” As it was winter and roses were nowhere to be found at the time and in that cold weather, he demanded her to show him what she was carrying. When the queen unfolded her dress, roes fell on the floor.
The transformation of bread into roses is a miracle attributed to St Elizabeth of Portugal, a woman that set an example for devotion to God and kindness to her people. After the death of her husband in 1325, she entered the Santa Clara a Velha Monastery in Coimbra where she lived until 1336, when she passed. Pope Urban VIII canonized her in 1625.”
Miracle of Roses opens with a combination of cinnamon, bread, and milk. Yes, it really does smell of bread and milk, both of which are associated with kindness and charity. The next stage is where the rose makes its first appearance, accompanied by heliotrope, immortelle, and iris. The rose is not dominant, it is equaled here by the other flowers. The base notes are frequent “collaborators” with rose accords in fragrance: sandalwood, honey, incense, and woody notes. Miracle of Roses is a beautiful, slightly eccentric fragrance that is unlike any others I own. In fact, in future wearings I may add a drop on my wrist of the gorgeous attar of Taif roses that my husband bought for me in Dubai, to amp up the rose accord (don’t tell Miguel).
Speaking of Taif roses, the third rose fragrance I’ll use to discuss the note is Perris Monte Carlo’s Rose de Taif, an eau de parfum created by perfumer Luca Maffei; it is also available as an extrait. It is an aromatic, spicy rose, with herbal nuances. Fragrantica lists its notes as: geranium, lemon and nutmeg; middle note, Taif rose; base notes, damask rose and musk. Geranium and lemon are also common companions for roses in fragrance; they share some of the same molecules like geraniol. Not surprisingly, Rose de Taif smells a bit like a scented geranium, and less fruity than some rose-based fragrances. It is a far cry from the rose soaps that turned many people against rose in fragrance! It is clearly still a rose-centric fragrance, but it has a modern flair. As proof of that, my son’s very chic college girlfriend was at our house recently when I was wearing Rose de Taif for this blog post. She immediately sniffed the air and asked what smelled so great. I feel seen! Or smelled. The modern, spicy nuances of Rose de Taif also make it an ideal unisex fragrance, especially for men who may tend to avoid sweeter, more flowery rose scents. There are many great rose fragrances targeted to men these days, but I don’t see any reason why any man couldn’t wear whatever rose fragrance appeals to him, no matter who is the target customer.
Finally, Attar de Roses by Keiko Mecheri. My bottle has gone off a bit, so I get a sort of fermented rose smell when I first spray it, but that evaporates in seconds and becomes a lovely, warm, woody rose. It has been discontinued, so the brand’s website no longer lists it. According to Fragrantica, its notes include: Taif, Shiraz and Ancienne roses, jasmine, warm, woody notes, amber and leather. Jasmine is another classic rose companion in fragrance, famously paired with rose accords in perfumes like Chanel No. 5 and the late, great Joy by Jean Patou. Here, I barely detect it; the woody notes, which smell to me like sandalwood, are more evident to my nose. Although Attar de Roses is labeled as eau de parfum, I think it must have a high concentration of fragrance oil, because I can see it as a moist patch on the back of my hand where I sprayed it, long after that first spray. It stays rose-focused throughout its development in an almost linear fashion, which I appreciate when I’m in the mood.
Bringing us back to the garden aspects of rose fragrances, I actually found a scented geranium this year called – “Attar of Roses.” By golly, when you rub its leaves, it really does smell like a rose! Most scented geraniums smell like citronella or lemongrass to my nose. I like them, but I did a double-take when I smelled this one. So of course I bought it on the spot, and it is sitting in its own, smaller pot on the terrace where I grow my English Roses. I rarely bring tender plants inside to nurture over the winter and try to bring back in the spring, but I may have to make an exception for this one.
Rose fragrances tend to elicit strong feelings, as far as I can tell. Do you love or loathe rose fragrances, or do you have mixed reactions? Please add your thoughts in the comments – just remember that a fragrance you dislike may be another reader’s long-time favorite, so as always, please try not to give or take offense! Also, go see what Portia has to say, over at Australian Perfume Junkies. And Happy Fourth of July to my fellow Americans!
Serenity Now Scents and Sensibilities 