Continuing in the philosophy of avoiding to describe scents as LIKE vs NOT LIKE, I must be careful how to put this: I am simply not immediately attracted to rose as a raw material — it just does not speak to me … yet. When I think of rose I get silence.
Rose to me is an olfactory no man’s land. It is everything to everyone and at the same time it is no (one) thing. Everyone has their opinions about rose and everyone’s right.
I want to be captivated by a raw material, especially florals, for my nose being captivated is a pre-requisite, probably because florals are so defining, polarizing even, and those that do attract me seem to be the in-your-face florals like Tuberose, Osmanthus and Ylang Ylang.
A floral must captivate me the way Oud did for Mona Di Orio here in this article:
“So in the morning, when the alarm clock was ringing, I smelt something…not a smell… I smelt a presence. I had the feeling that someone was in my bedroom…and I turned my head, and I opened my eyes, and I saw the blotter. And I had a shock. And I said, “This is it! Wow! Okay, I want to do it!”
When I read this description about how she was transfixed by the scent of Oud after not really wanting to work with it, I knew I had unconsciously set a marker for myself with regards to florals.
I find floral notes challenging because they deserve the utmost consideration, a gentle hand and a wise heart. They are after all the heart of a perfume. And, is there anything more important than the heart?
To date, whenever I have been tempted to make a purchase of rose essential oil or absolute, my finger pauses perilously over the ENTER button like some sort of suicide victim teetering on the edge of a precipice. On the edge. Completely unsure and afraid. Slowly, oh so slowly, gently I am drawn back to safety by an olfactive wisdom of rose that tells me I am not yet ready for this note.
I am still in training and so I succumb to its wisdom and wait.