In perfumery, rose rules over its own hereditary kingdom. It never had to fight to win this throne from another; royal status was conferred upon it by the moment it blossomed. Given its eminence within the world of Eastern fragrance, it's no surprise that Rose gets its own dedicated category in the Attar Bazaar catalog. Out of seven available roses, I've tried four; three I will present today, and the last -- it's a doozy! -- I'm saving for the weekend. You may be sure the remaining roses from Attar Bazaar's garden will bloom on this blog in the future!
According to AB: "Extracted from very dark ruby red rosebuds, this particular scent is a nighttime delight: flashingly exciting, to captivate the body, mind, and soul. One drop is sufficient for the whole night."
According to me: At first I got all excited. Up top, Night Rose smelled like sweet orange peel and dry rose petals with a touch of bitter almond. But then it went all Murphy's Oil Soap and lemon disinfectant on me, and I started to fret over the sorry state of my kitchen linoleum. Many people adore the odor of a freshly-cleaned house, but unless your house actually IS in perfect condition, a scent like this can make you feel like a total housekeeping failure. I hate being guilt-tripped, and this perfume does so in a tart and unpleasant tone of voice. Sorry, but for me, Night Rose is a definite "no".
According to AB: "Sweet, light, and pink in color. Will transport you to a garden of ancient beauty, filled with soft breezes. A very elegant and feminine rose scent. One can easily fall in love while wearing this fragrance!"
According to me: When Attar Bazaar colors a perfume oil some wild, distracting hue (like Blue Nile or Nour), it usually signals fun times ahead. Tinted a preposterous, girly pink, Persian Rose surprises me by smelling entirely natural-- almost photo-real. Peppery, crisp, dewy, and very fresh, this fragrance could be wafting directly from the center of a rose growing in that "ancient garden" described in the brochure. It never goes sour, and provides a compelling reason for me not to write roses (OR girliness) off.
Sudanese Black Rose
According to AB: "Sudanese Black Rose is available again!! Same sultry mysterious fragrance we have missed for so long!"
According to me: I didn't know much about Sudanese Black Rose except that it had been temporarily discontinued. I imagine it must have been pretty well-loved to be welcomed back from retirement with such fanfare; yet skepticism marred my initial opinion of this 'classic' AB fragrance. Black Rose opens with the same household cleaner effect as its cousin, the soapy-sour Night Rose. Had a sink been nearby, I might have scrubbed it off-- never realizing what a mistake this would be. As it modulates ever so slowly into a deep, dark Rosa damascena tinged with allspice, honey, and bitter chocolate, Black Rose assures me that good things take time. Because it ends much closer to my liking than where it began, I choose to place my trust in it. Perhaps in the course of another professional hiatus, it might succeed in ditching that unfortunate top note-- and then I shall never again be tempted to throw Black Rose out with the bathwater.