Eternal, Silken & Gourmand
Esteemed
~ £3500 for 1kg of Vanilla Absolute
A true base note, lingering with an enveloping presence.
Mexico, specifically in the region of Totonicapán & Papantla
“Vanilla” has come to mean plain, safe, forgettable... yet its story is anything but. Behind the familiar softness lies an orchid bound to witchcraft, blood, and desire. Its pods have been offered to Aztec gods, stolen for the black market, and at times worth their own weight in silver. In perfumery, it lingers as both comfort and seduction — a sweetness shadowed by something darker.
“A relic of orchids, fragrant as memory, potent as lust.”
Vanilla oozes warmth like molten gold, clinging to the air with gourmand echoes of spiced liqueur and dark chocolate truffles. Beneath the velvet richness lies a woody undertone, aged as though steeped in oak casks, giving the note both gravity and shadow.
Its aroma conjures the hush of a paneled chocolate apothecary, where copper pots steam with sugared cream and the air swirls with the powdered ghosts of roasted cocoa. There is comfort in its embrace, but also seduction — the scent of indulgence enjoyed behind closed doors, half-whispered and unforgettable.
Creamy, Cocoa, Liqueur, Woody, Spiced, Honeyed, Syrupy, Caramel, Resinous
Vanilla is among the most versatile notes in perfumery, its smooth depth able to entwine with almost anything. When blended with florals such as jasmine or rose, it softens their brightness into something velvety. Paired with spices like cinnamon or cardamom, its warmth glows hotter, turning sweet comfort into exotic fire. But when shadowed by smoke, leather, or resin, vanilla transforms into pure indulgence — sensual, addictive, and darkly luxurious. Most often though, it rests as a base note: a steady foundation upon which lighter accords rise and fade, always leaving behind its silken echo.
"Vanilla is the quiet protagonist of my creations. It anchors and rounds the brighter notes, like a low shadowed resonance that haunts the skin with a forbidden, smooth sweetness"
The Totonac people of Mexico’s eastern coast were the first to cultivate vanilla, tending the orchid as early as the 12th century. To them it was more than fragrance - pods were burned in temples, offered to their gods, and carried as charms to summon fortune.
When the Aztecs conquered Totonac lands, they claimed vanilla as tribute. Blended with cacao and spices, it flavoured xocoatl - a bitter, intoxicating drink reserved for warriors, priests, and emperors. In their courts, vanilla was a symbol of power and wealth.
In the 16th century, Spanish conquistadors carried both cacao and vanilla back across the ocean. But the orchid resisted them: its flowers could only be pollinated by the tiny “Melipona” bee, found only in Mexico. That defiance gave it an aura of rarity, and by the 17th century, vanilla was a prize of European courts and apothecaries - a black flower coveted like treasure, sometimes rivaling silver in worth.
In the Aztec courts, vanilla-laced xocoatl was more than a drink — it was considered a stimulant of divine power. Emperor Montezuma was rumoured to have consumed cup after cup before his liaisons, the black flower’s sweetness fuelling both desire and a fervour that bordered on madness.
Vanilla’s narcotic sweetness was once more than indulgence. Among the Totonac — and later the Aztecs — it was burned in incense and woven into sacred blends, a fragrance to stir the senses and heighten communion with the divine. Paired with cacao in ritual offerings, vanilla was believed to rouse the spirit and awaken both body and soul — a bridge between pleasure and the gods.
When vanilla reached Europe, it quickly gathered a more dangerous reputation. Whispers claimed it was used in love potions by the upper class, for illicit affairs capable of ensnaring even the most noble gentlemen. Its aphrodisiac qualities were debated in both medical and occult circles, pulling it into the realm of taboo. In 1762, the German physician Bezaar Zimmermann even published a treatise condemning vanilla, warning that it could “inflame the venereal appetite.” Some clergy echoed these fears, denouncing it as a temptation that threatened chastity and lured the soul toward sin.
“Imagine a flower that grows in very few places, blooms once a year, and must be hand pollinated. From each flower comes a single pod, which must be hand picked and dried in the sun. It travels all across the world to come to us, and we have the audacity to call something so rare and beautiful “plain”
The island of Madagascar produces over 70% of the world’s vanilla, with its humid climate and fertile volcanic soil creating the rich, creamy sweetness prized in perfumery. This “Bourbon vanilla” is considered the gold standard, offering a warm and almost intoxicating depth.
Tahitian vanilla is rarer and softer, with floral nuances that lean towards cherry, anise, and delicate almond. Its scent is less sharp than Bourbon vanilla, making it highly sought-after for more sensual and exotic compositions.
The birthplace of vanilla, where the Totonac people once worshipped it as a sacred gift from the gods. Mexican vanilla carries spicy, woody undertones, with a darker richness that hints at cacao and ancient rituals.
Unlike most plants, vanilla orchids cannot rely on nature alone. Outside of their native Mexico, where a tiny bee once carried out the task, each blossom must be hand-pollinated within a single day of opening. This delicate act binds human labour to every drop of vanilla, turning it into one of the most labour-intensive crops in the world.
After pollination, the long green pods form and grow as the vines continue to climb over months of heat and golden sun. Farmers carefully guide the orchids, tying them along trees or trellises to ensure steady growth. The pods are left to ripen for up to nine months, absorbing the soul of their soil before they are ready to be taken.
Once finally ready, each pod is plucked from the vine by hand with great care but still fresh & green, they hold little fragrance. To unlock their aroma they must undergo a painstaking ritual: first, briefly scalded in hot water, then entombed in a cloth-lined wooden box for up to 2 days to “sweat”.
For the next 2 weeks, they are laid in the hot sun by day, and blanketed at night. As the pods dry, they darken and develop the signature resinous sweetness. Only after 4 months of rhythmic fermenting, drying and aging do they become the dark black beans recognised the world over - the final relics of the orchid.
The vanilla pod’s scent is locked away, and only through intricate processes can perfumers capture its sweetness. Unlike many botanicals, vanilla cannot simply be distilled; its essence requires patience, ritual, and artful extraction.
The most revered form in high perfumery, vanilla absolute, is obtained by gently steeping the pods in solvent, before careful purification and filtering leaves behind a dark, resinous material. Thick and potent, it carries the unmistakable warmth of the pod - rich, balsamic, and long-lasting on the skin.
Modern perfumery often favours CO₂ extraction, where pressurised carbon dioxide draws out the aromatic compounds without solvents. This yields an oil truer to the natural pod itself - smoother & creamier - offering perfumers a faithful representation of the orchid’s treasure.
Produced through ethanol extraction of cured pods, Oleoresin is thicker and less refined than an absolute, capturing a broader, earthier spectrum of vanilla’s profile. Some perfumers blend it with other extracts to amplify depth.
Though less common now, a handful of perfumers still use tinctures: vanilla pods simply macerated in alcohol. These yield a ghostly, softer vanilla - often valued for its nuance rather than its strength.
In Madagascar, farmers patrol their vines at night with machetes, ready to confront raiders who slip into the fields under torchlight. Theft has long haunted the crop, with records of stolen harvests stretching back to the 19th century, occasionally even sparking bloodshed. Clever Vanilla farmers took to using needles to tattoo initials or sigils onto the fresh, green pods. As they ripen, the wounds scar into permanent brands making sale on the open market far more problematic for any thieves.
Totonac myth tells of Princess Tzacopontziza, so fair that her father swore her to chastity, in service of the Goddess of Fertility. But when she eloped with Prince Zcotan-oxga, they were hunted down by Aztec priests and punished with death beneath the shade of a tree. From that blood-soaked earth, a vine coiled around the branches, crowning itself with pale orchids that exuded an intoxicating fragrance. The priests believed it to be born of the lovers’ sacrifice, a sacred emblem of passion - and from this very vine, it is said, all modern vanilla descends.
European apothecaries prized vanilla as a stimulant and healer, but whispers in folk magic spoke of far more perilous uses. Blended with myrrh or benzoin, vanilla was said to “open the womb of fate,” a charm to bind hearts - or to curse them. Love spells laced with its sweetness could sour into obsession, madness, and decay. During the fever of witch trials, women caught with hidden pods risked accusation of witchcraft, and some apothecaries locked their stores away, deeming the black flower too potent for unguarded hands.
Vanilla’s path into perfumery was slow, but inevitable. Long treasured as a sacred plant, then as a culinary indulgence, its dark sweetness finally found permanence in the world of fragrance towards the end of the 19th century. Unlike the fleeting spice of cinnamon or clove, vanilla offered warmth, sensuality, and a depth that seemed to linger like nothing else.
Vanilla’s first great entrance came with Jicky, a fragrance that shocked and seduced Paris. It was the first perfume to weave natural vanilla with synthetic vanillin, creating an accord at once creamy, balsamic, and irresistibly modern. Jicky is often called the first “modern” perfume, and its success marked vanilla not as a passing note, but as a cornerstone of perfumery itself.
If Jicky was the door, Shalimar flung it wide open. Blending bergamot, iris, and a sultry overdose of vanilla, it became the definitive oriental fragrance, a temple of sensuality in a bottle. Shalimar made vanilla not just an accent, but the soul of seduction.
Through the decades, vanilla remained a hallmark of luxury. From Caron’s Tabac Blond to Dior’s Hypnotic Poison, its dark warmth surfaced again and again, shaping the very language of sensual fragrance. It was no longer just “sweet”, it became mysterious, carnal, and addictive.
In niche and high perfumery, vanilla is reborn once more. No longer confined to gourmands, it now appears smoked, spiced, salted, and shadowed - its versatility making it as modern as it is eternal. From gothic interpretations to avant-garde blends, vanilla endures as both relic and rebel, a note that refuses to fade.
Made in England. Vegan. Cruelty-free.