Early on in my fragrance journey, I thought of rose scents—along with most florals, really—as something outside my wheelhouse. Despite being theoretically opposed to the idea of gender in perfume, in practice I still tend to gravitate towards more unisex or masc-coded smells. However, I’ve become increasingly interested in the idea that wearing a rose fragrance could be a cool flex for me and I’ve been seeking out weirder” roses (whether green, earthy, peppery, salty, or otherwise) that read as “unisex” to me. Of the ones I’ve found, Jorum’s Rose Highland might be my favourite. It’s a cool, bracing scent that opens with a startlingly realistic ocean breeze, salty and mineralic, surrounding the impression of wild rosebushes with herbaceous notes that vividly transport you to a Scottish cliff carpeted with scrubby, flowering heather, overlooking the ocean. Basil imparts an aromatic green touch as sharp pink pepper and cloves spice up the rose’s supporting florals (geranium, rhododendron, and jasmine). This isn’t some pampered hothouse rose, it’s a rugged, thorny one, with just a handful of dark-red blooms. It has a forlorn, solitary flavour, bleak but romantic, perfect for gazing longingly out to sea while swathed in a shaggy Shetland sweater and tartan scarf, listening to plaintive Scottish indie pop. As it dries down, the oceanic notes recede and the rose blooms seem to dessicate into dried petals wrapped in a woody, grassy vetiver, still salty, maybe a little tear-stained. It’s a beautiful, evocative scent that I find very unisex, and it’s also an extrait with impressive stamina: like a cliffside shrub, it’s built to last and won’t be uprooted by inclement weather. Quite possibly my overall favourite Jorum creation (though their recent release Boswellia Scotia is also a top contender).🌹 🥀 🌹