Faizal Privée Fragrances

Lanete comes from Leyte and Bicol, distilled in 2016, and it’s a Philippine oud through and through.

It opens with fermented tropical fruit, warm and immediate, the kind of depth I always look for in traditionally distilled oils.

As it develops, subtle indolic florals start to weave through rich agarwood resin, and a refined incense accord builds underneath.

The drydown is where Leyte material really shows itself, smooth, resinous, quietly persistent. It doesn’t shout, it just stays with you

Phongsali carries the mountains in it. I sourced this from the highland forests of Laos and Yunnan, and it opens with a dry, bitter musk against deep, green kinamic facets, unmistakably wild from the first breath.

The heart settles into something denser. A resinous core wrapped in cool forest air, the kind of profile only true highland agarwood can give you.

By the base, the bitterness has softened into dark woods, aromatic resin, and a mineral warmth that lingers long after the initial impression fades.

I wanted to share what’s actually in Chandan Cha, for anyone curious about how it builds.

It opens with bergamot and apple, brightened by camphor and sea salt.

That first breath is meant to feel clean, almost coastal, like walking into an old tea house after rain.

The heart is where it gets its character. Black tea and pu-erh, smoky and dark, softened by cardamom and saffron. White lotus and orchid sit underneath, quiet and creamy, so the tea never feels harsh.

Then it settles into the base I built the whole fragrance around. Mysore sandalwood, frankincense, and Trat oud, with a soft camphor accord running through to tie it back to where it started.

It’s a scent I kept coming back to while making it. Hoping it does the same for you.

Rozá Encens sits somewhere between a flower and a fire.

I built it on the tension between rare roses, blue lotus and deep oriental woods.

It opens earthy and warm, moves into a velvety rose heart wrapped in smoke and incense, and ends somewhere animalic and low, leather, resin, musk.

Opulent, but never soft.

Coming soon.

Luxe de Borneo, note by note.

The opening is deliberately unsettled. Pink pepper and blackcurrant give it lift, but cinnamon, cumin and borneol pull it somewhere darker almost immediately. A touch of nigella and betel nut add a bitterness I didn’t want to smooth over.

The heart is where it softens, but not by much. Iris and blue lotus, powdery and cool, alongside magnolia’s creaminess. Chinese rosewood brings warmth, birch adds a leathery edge, and Malinau Absolut oud starts to rise through it all, connecting the florals to what’s coming.

The base is the reason I kept working on this one. Musk skins and Tibetan musk, animalic and warm. Oakmoss underneath for depth. Then Kalbar oud and aged Malinau oud together, honeyed, resinous, some of the rarest material I’ve used.

It’s not an easy scent. That was always the point.