As the cavalier poet Robert Herrick wrote:
‘The rose was sick and smiling died;
And (being to be sanctified)
About the bed there sighing stood
The sweet and flowery sisterhood.’
It’s a beautiful poem, and a perfect illustration of the more morbid side of the rose. Yet, even at their darkest and most morbid, roses never forgo their romance or beauty. Think of the showers of bright rose petals in Alma Tadema’s famous painting: the roses of Heliogabalous; who wouldn’t want to nuzzle their way deep under that fragrant shower? The Emperor’s swooning guests certainly seem un-bothered by their rather picturesque fate. Perhaps they simply appreciate Alma-Tadema’s attention to detail: each petal was, legend has it, painted from life and one can well believe it when one looks at the vivid, lightly veined petals which seem to almost pulsate with life in contrast to the emperors hapless victims, suffocated as much by their perfume it seems as by the weight of so many flowers.
Darker roses can be intoxicating and delicious; these are the roses which follow us into autumn and winter, whose sharp thorns puncture the snow and whose red petals blaze through a haze of falling snowflakes.
So, here is a brief introduction to my two favourite perfumes in a darker genre of rose. Two different sorts of deeper, darker, delicious rose.
If you desire an immortal rose with just a hint of the gothic and a large dose of romanticism then none could fit the bill better than Frederic Malle Une Rose. Tuber notes give this perfume the qualities of an earthy kiss and red wine entwined with the roses throughout Edouard Flechier’s composition give the whole perfume a velvety intensity that few perfumes can match. It’s an utterly unique and deeply memorable example of the perfumers art. You dab this on and you instantly feel as if you have been wrapped in a velvet cloak, as though you are about to sit down to a rich dinner of truffles and wine, as if you are about to dance the tango and the feeling is sensational.
A less earthy but equally warm, dark and intense rose is Hatria by Angela Ciampagna. This perfume is a sensationally delicious blend of warmth and spice. Cloves and caramel wrap around this rose and the most notable initial notes before the rose starts to come through in earnest were, for me at least, saffron and sandalwood. A beautiful combination, the saffron floats away, whilst the sandalwood retreats into the background. It’s a courtesan’s kiss of a perfume, it would be fabulous on the legendary Cora Pearl. This also feels like the perfume which should be wafting among Heliogablous’s unfortunate guests. Perhaps, the reason for the mysterious smiles on their lips and that delicious sense they give off that this really is the best party they’ve ever attended.
