Dorian

Ah, the very notion of a candle for Dorian Gray. One must admit, it possesses a certain morbid charm, a fashionable wickedness that is quite irresistible. It would, of course, have to be a scent of immense complexity and contradiction, a perfume of paradox worthy of a man who is both a perfect work of art and an imperfect work of nature.

This candle, you see, is not merely for illuminating a room but for obscuring a truth. The very act of lighting it is a decadent confession, a small, delightful surrender to that which one knows to be quite wrong and finds all the more appealing for it.

The first breath of its smoke is a bright and rather frivolous thing, a momentary distraction. One perceives the sharp, witty tang of bergamot, like a well-turned phrase designed to divert attention from a deeper meaning. But this pleasantry is a mere prelude, for beneath it lies the rich, honeyed weight of tobacco, a scent of secrets shared in dimly lit chambers and of sins committed in a moment of languid boredom.

As the flame dances, so too does the fragrance, revealing a more curious character. There is the supple, unyielding smell of leather, the scent of a locked, forgotten room where some dark and inconvenient part of oneself is kept hidden away. It is the odor of a life lived on the surface, its darker aspects tucked neatly out of sight.

Yet, this is not all. For with the leather comes the sudden, shocking intimacy of violet, a bloom whose delicate, innocent perfume offers a striking contrast to the darker notes. It is the scent of a young boy's first boutonnière, a sweet and pure memory that has become tinged with a rather morbid nostalgia. The violet, in its frail beauty, serves as a poignant reminder of what was and what has been forever changed.

The final note, the lingering base of the scandal, is the opulent and creamy tonka bean. It suggests a life of luxurious indulgence and hedonistic pursuit, a sweetness that promises everything and delivers nothing but a soft, enveloping sense of moral decay. It is the scent of a beautiful tragedy, a perfectly composed ruin.

To possess this candle, then, is to possess a microcosm of Dorian's very soul—a surface of dazzling, almost innocent appeal, with a secret and sinister heart slowly festering in the shadows. To burn it is to witness, in miniature, the fragrant corruption of a beautiful thing, a process as fascinating as it is fatal.

Scent Profile:

Tobacco Leaf

Bergamot

Tonka Bean

Violet

Leather