Table of ContentsThis year introduced me to new passions and hobbies I never thought I’d entertain.
Perfume was one of them.
I never thought I would spend such a significant chunk of my money on perfume. Or that I’d spend hours reading about the linearity of a perfume, its sillage, or its projection. Past me would cackle and label present me pretentious. Sillage? Really?
However this obsession with perfumery and fragrances snuck up on me silently, and before I knew it I was buying stands for my perfumes.
Since then, I’d like to think my addiction has slowed down. But there is still one perfume house I always circle back to. One whose sillage and projection I’d gladly be pretentious over.
That perfume house is Amouage.
Amouage & Omani Heritage
The House of Amouage was born in Oman in 1983, under the rule of Sultan Qaboos bin Said Al Said. Commisioned with the aim of preserving Oman’s rich history in global frankincense trade, Amouage has grown into one of the most luxurious and sought after perfume brands.
Oman’s history as a hub in the trade of frankincense and myrrh is central to Amouage’s identity— many of its perfumes feature a smoky frankincense note as a nod to that heritage.
Interestingly, while the house’s roots are deeply Omani, the noses behind its creations are often Western— perfumers like Guy Robert, Pierre Negrin, and Quentin Bisch craft Amouage’s scents using rare and traditional Eastern ingredients: oud, amber, myrrh, and most iconically, frankincense.
Branded as “The Gift of Kings”, Amouage offers fragrances that are bold, nuanced, and unapologetically luxurious. In reviving the traditions of Arabian perfumery and marrying them with modern expertise, the house has built a legacy on the meeting point between East and West.
Frankincense is part of Oman’s identity. You smell it at the airport, in people’s homes— it’s everywhere. It’s also the signature that unifies our work at Amouage.
Discovering Amouage
I had always known of Amouage— their small stand at Doha’s airport always seemed full of people— but I had never really experienced any of their fragrances.
That was until earlier this year when my perfume hobby started. I started researching Amouage and their fragrance collections.
Amouage— waves in Arabic— had, by far, the most overwhelmingly positive reviews. People would gush over it in the reviews, and I thought they were simply exaggerating, as many perfume enthusiasts do.
I decided to pick up a bottle, just to see what it was all about. I checked and found a retail store selling a full bottle of Interlude Man for a decent price.
Interlude
I interpret what I see and feel into scents. All the social and natural chaos and disorder surrounding us today can be translated to a much more intimate level. The interlude moment is a reflection of all the trials and tribulations one overcomes to attain personal satisfaction and achievement.
When I recieved Interlude, I was immediately blown away by the packaging.
With niche perfumery, you expect purposeful, intentful presentation, especially when you dish out over 380 USD for a perfume. And of all niche perfumes I’ve purchased, Amouage easily takes the cake for the most gorgeous packaging.
The bottle itself blew me away too.
Styled like a traditional Omani dagger— a Khanjar— the flacon is adorned with the Amouage emblem, a 12 pointed star. The cap is weighty and crowned with a gorgeous sapphire blue Swarovski crystal, also reflecting Khanjar patterns.
Even before spraying, Interlude made its presence known. As I removed the cap, a wave of incense hit me; resinous, deep incense.
I sprayed it once on my wrist and took a whiff.
I still don’t know what Interlude smells like, exactly. But I had read about how frankincense was harvested, and I think it serves as a great analogy to the fragrance’s profile.
Interlude & harvesting frankincense
a lone boswellia sacra tree stands in the sun-parched Omani landscape. the frankincense tree stands, alone. a testament to resilience.
a harvester approaches.
he is immediately hit by notes of sharp, medicinal greenery. not lush, ripe greenery, but rather sharpened, angular, dry, spiced greenery which draws him closer— not gently though.
the harvester draws his mengaf, a curved blade. he strikes the tree, cutting through the bark, exposing its pale flesh. the tree bleeds.
frankincense, a resin meant to protect the tree against foreign predators, bleeds from the tree. it also serves to prevent the tree from losing its most valuable resource: water.
as the exposed resin dries, it crystallizes into frankincense.
over time, the tree heals and regenerates a layer of bark where it was struck.
then, the harvester returns. he strikes the tree again, harvesting the frankincense and creating new cuts. this process is repeated several times. each time, the frankincense becomes more concentrated, more fragrant.
The harvester is gone.
And the tree, again, begins to heal.
Interlude performance
As with all Amouage perfumes, the performance on Interlude is stellar. In fact, Interlude might be the best performing Amouage.
On skin, I get 6-8 hours of consistent projection before it settles into a bitter-herbal skin scent.
On clothes, it is eternal: it literally will not dissipate until you wash the article of clothing.
I use 2-3 sprays max on pulse points during the colder seasons. This would probably suffocate in closed, hot spaces.
Very lingering sillage too, and the perfume exudes presence as you move. You don’t wear Interlude as much as you carry it with you.
Overall, it is very easy to let Interlude wear you, not the other way around. It is genuinely a very challenging perfume to wear. It is, definitionally, a statement perfume.
Unapologetically dark and smokey, Interlude does not demand you understand it at all. But in my opinion Interlude tells a tale of pain, rupture, chaos, repair, beauty. And if you want to witness that, then Interlude is a masterpiece worth enduring.
Decision
Uncompromising, distinctive and incandescent, Decision captures the paradox that lies at the core of all of life’s most powerful decisions: it is focused on its goal while remaining open to countless possibilities.
After falling in love with Interlude, all other perfumes smelled dull to me. I have not bought any perfumes since buying Interlude.
Except Decision, also by Amouage.
Against all odds and decisions, I found myself in Oman recently. Oman, the birthplace of Amouage.
There, I got to wander the old souq of Mutrah. I was bombarded by a thousand different scents. Piles of real frankincense, sold by the kilogram. Vendors begging you to try their perfume oils. Potent spices piled up in neat dunes.
I also visited several Amouage boutiques. I think I visited so many times that the representatives genuinely got bored of seeing me there so often.
And 2 days before I left Oman, I smelled Decision.
I had walked in to buy a dark, brooding perfume like Interlude, maybe Memoir or Epic. But the representative, after hearing I already owned Interlude, recommended Decision.
I decided to try Decision.
Apex of Oman, Jabal Shams
Renaud Salmon, Creative Director at Amouage, shares the scene that inspired this perfume.
He describes his journey to Jabal Shams, the highest peak in Oman, rising over 3000 meters.
“When I arrived at the base of the mountain and started walking,” says Salmon, “something caught my eye. Across the terrain were what looked like conifers at first, but when I got closer to them, I saw they were juniper trees – their branches twisted into unusual shapes.” Many junipers are survivors of electrical storms, struck by lightning that turns their sap into steam, causing the bark to split and fossilise. Legend says that these trees carry a mystical quality, and their wood is sometimes also used to burn at home like frankincense.
After this striking opening, the light spreads further, aided by the gleaming sheen of Atlas Cedarwood.
Finally, a warm Vanilla in the base conveys the profoundly liberating effect of acceptance.
Most trees die when struck by lightning.
But the Juniper tree decides to live.
Decision performance
Decision is no Interlude in projection and sillage. Its more calm, less theatrical and doesn’t really seek to prove anything loudly as with Interlude. If Interlude was the scent of tragedy and healing, then Decision is the breath of calm after deciding to heal.
On skin, Decision performs moderately well, projecting loudly for 3-4 hours before becoming a present yet tamed scent. After 9 hours, it becomes a creamy-spicy skin scent.
On clothes, this might perform even better than Interlude. It sticks around forever and refuses to let go. I sprayed Decision once on my watch’s strap when I bought it, and almost 2 weeks later, I can still smell it.
I can see Decision worn in every season, just maybe not during peak heat, where the sweetness of the resins could become overbearingly cloying. Otherwise, go heavier on the trigger with 4-6 sprays.
The sillage is moderate on Decision, and I help it linger a bit more by doing a spray on my nape.
However, this perfume is still not an easy wear. The metallic-sweet note can be off-putting or clinical to some, but if you found Interlude wearable, then Decision comes as gentler, cooler, and more restrained.
Some believe lightning is punishment, divine wrath.
But in Decision, Amouage reinterprets lightning as revelation.
The fragrance strikes first with unripe citrus, split suddenly by metal. And yet, it never feels angry. The frankincense and resins ground it— composed, restrained.
If Interlude was a wound torn open, a chaotic bleeding of heat and smoke, Decision is the scar that remains after healing.
It doesn’t shout. It doesn’t demand.
It simply is— clear, measured, whole.
Wearing Interlude feels like being possessed by fire.
Wearing Decision feels like standing in the aftermath of lightning, unburnt.
Decision is not about destruction. It is about clarity,
about choosing to live after the storm— and finding beauty in what remains.
tangent on the ‘pretentious’ nature of perfume hobbies
I am well aware how out of touch and ostentatious a perfume hobby may seem. Spending hours reading about fragrances, spending unimaginable sums of money on what, to most people, is scented alcohol; all this talk of projection and sillage. It all seems so bourgeois and insane.
But I encourage you to look at it in a different lens: Our sense of smell is one of our main 5 senses that structure how we experience the world.
We spend hundreds— even thousands— on sight (fashion, apparel), sound (headphones, concert tickets), touch (fabrics, furniture), and taste (fine dining).
All of these are demonstrations of consumerism, I understand. But we appease all these senses with little social consequence. No one bats an eye when you spend 300 USD+ on a pair of Sony Headphones or 100 USD on a night out.
But when it comes to smell, one of the most intimate and emotional senses, indulgence becomes ‘pretentious’.
A common counterargument is that perfumes are rapid consumables. However, a well-made fragrance offers years of use. At 100ml, you’re looking at around 1000–1200 sprays— that’s three years of scent if you apply it three times a week.
Perfume, in that sense, is actually one of the more enduring luxuries.
AMOUAGE
Amouage is “only expensive once, after that it’s priceless”.
Beyond marketing flourish, I think this line captures the ethos of the house perfectly.
From the beginning, Amouage set out to revive the forgotten grandeur of Arab perfumery and introduce it to the West— not as mimicry, but as a dialogue. And in doing so, it forged its own identity.
An identity linked with fragrances that are challenging, transcendental, and ritualistic.
An identity rooted in Omani identity, built upon the backs of local artisans, sourcing ingredients like frankincense from protected Omani regions.
An identity which brings massive pride to the Omani people and challenges Western perfumery giants like Dior.
It has formed this identity all while still costing less compared to niche brands like Creed (which costs far more per milliliter). All while maintaining the quality of ingredients and artistry of the brand.
I truly believe that Amouage is a perfume house people should try at least once. If price is a barrier, be on the lookout for samples. You could even split a bottle with someone. Or wait for a discounter selling on clearance: I got Interlude for 180 USD. I wear it once a week or so, and it changes the color of my day every time.
Perfume may not be essential. But it can be transformative.
And Amouage, the Gift of Kings, reminds you why scent matters.