Smolderose
January Scent Project (2017)

Smolderose opens with a scent reminiscent of rose water, with a subtle jammy or amber tinge. It’s not as jammy or sweet as Rose Flash by Tauer, but the amber helps balance it, preventing it from becoming too watery. There is a hint of smokiness, though it’s mild—don’t expect a strong or overwhelming smoky aroma. Labdanum and oud aren’t very prominent. It has a slight sangria-like, tart vibe. Up close, I can detect a faint fruity sweetness, likely from the amber and floral notes. On paper, the smokiness is more apparent, but on my skin, the rose takes center stage and persists into the drydown.

As the fragrance nears its end, I catch hints of a light woody base and possibly patchouli, but it remains fairly linear. If you’re a fan of rose and want something a bit more complex than a typical rose air freshener, give this a try. I prefer it over other rose fragrances like Tea Rose. It's well-composed, with the rose not coming off as overly perfumey, as it’s nicely tempered by the other notes, despite the dominant rose scent.

This fragrance could work well in the fall, spring, and possibly winter due to its decent performance. Be sure to test it on both paper and skin. Like many scents, Smolderose smells different on skin—my partner detected salty elements and more woodiness on skin, while the smokiness was more apparent on paper. It’s one of the better rose fragrances out there, and if you like rose scents, it’s worth sampling. However, it may resemble other rose fragrances you already own, so I wouldn’t give it points for originality. It’s still a great fragrance, but I personally prefer Burvuvu for its incorporation of more woods and red cedar.

Smolderose was so what I wasn’t expecting when I first wore it that all thoughts of reviewing it were banished in a fug of ‘is that it?’ disappointment. This is one of those perfumes that had a near-perfect – for my taste – notes list and knowing the unafraid assertiveness of John Biebel’s other creations my expectations were raised. So, on first go the disappointment was that that the smoke was light and aerial rather than heavy, the rose similarly thin and clear rather than heady, and – oh woe – no saffron to be detected, far less the agarwood.
I revisited knowing a bit better what to expect and setting aside hopes of something smouldering – and it was worth it. While by no means anywhere close to being one of my favourite rose perfumes Smolderose nonetheless has its moments. It wrongfoots the wearer almost immediately by coming on quite airy and light, but then uncoils to offer the lovely BDSM temptation of freshly polished black jackboots that brings out my inner masochist, combining it with an almost reedy smokiness and that thin, rose water kind of sweetness that trickles through it. The cade keeps wanting to drag the thing into sordid, tarry depths, with the patchouli valiantly attempting to beef up the rose, but the rest strains the other way, pulling into the light. And that makes for a certain dynamism that enlivens the wearing experience – there is the ozonic tug of the sea at one end combined with the grease and fumes of the automobile workshop at the other, with bang in the middle a ritual involving starched white robes and the sprinkling of rose water.

Smolderose (the EDP version) is beautiful and arresting, but I have to admit straight up that I cannot smell the rose in it. What I smell is primarily the head-spinning fumes of a room where tins of black boot polish are stored, a smell that is tarry and (pleasantly) chemical rather than smoky.

I smell the lemony-minty green sting of geranium in a minor key, which is a rosy note, I guess, as well as the leathery undertone of choya nakh (roasted seashells), a distillate used in very careful doses in traditional Indian attar perfumery to add a marine-leathery tone. Choya nakh is also used by Mandy Aftel to give Tango its smoky, skanky-leather undertone, and indeed, there is a somewhat similar tarry boot-rubber effect in that perfume too.

But, for me, that almost benzene-like honk of black boot polish is what prevails. This seething, fizzing, gaseous miasma of fumes joins with the scent of our old Calor Gas heater, whose electric bars, when heated up, emitted an addictive aroma of heated electrical cogs and springs. I have a fondness for this accord, which I smell also in Gris Clair (Serge Lutens), because it seems to occupy a physical space in the air, charging the oxygen particles with ions and static electricity. I should mention that Smolderose takes up such a firm physical presence in the air that my head swims if I inhale too deeply.

Some may be offended that I don't pick up on the charred rose or the other multi-layered complexities that I'm sure are actually there, in the fabric of the scent. But what I smell works for me anyway. If you, like me, loved the cozy smells of the school supplies closet, with its vaporous, almost intoxicating fumes of glue, polish, paper, ink, and other chemicals, or have experienced the particularly Irish childhood experience of hugging the Calor Gas heater until it heated up enough to thaw your frozen limbs, then perhaps Smolderose EDP will strike a memory chord for you too.

A very interesting and unique take on rose. I haven't smelled anything like it. There is rose all the way, but paired with what smells like gasoline to me. Not oud or wood, but more like gasoline from a petrol station. There are other notes of course, likely resins and florals and even sea shell is mentioned in the notes pyramid above.

It is an intriguing fragrance. I like it, but because of its uniqueness I suspect one might get bored with it after some time. Although it is a rose-focused scent, it leans more masculine in my opinion.

A bright blast of citrus. It sparkles. The rose seems to change its character throughout the top, heart, and the base - from spicy sweet, honeyed, then earthy. I get a smoky, sugary wood vibe from time to time. This has an incense-y, patchouli base that goes on and on. Overall I love this stuff. I'm a huge fan of rose perfumes. And, this one is different from all I own. A decant of this will be in order one day.

Opens bittersweet, smoky-oily and jarringly chemical, pretty much like a noxious petrol spill. It settles quickly enough to reveal a drier a little less unpleasant but no less weird melange of fruity/smoky notes that reminds me of cheap shampoos.

I'm disappointed. I've heard wonderful things about Smolderose and had looked forward to sampling it. I love rose scents and I'm familiar with rose-oud combos but this oddball is definitely not one of them. I don't smell any rose of any known genre or subspecies here either.

Maybe I'm hyperosmic to the ‘fruity floral shampoo' note but IMO it has no business being here. In any case the ‘petrol fumes' introduction to rose & resins has been done before and with much greater finesse in Histoires de Parfums Rosam. It makes this effort by January Scent Project seems amateurish in comparison.

Ultimately it boils down to the scent. I didn't enjoy it, couldn't scrub it off soon enough. And that's why I'm giving it a ‘THUMBS DOWN'.