Unholy Water

Unholy Water is a paradox in a bottle: vibrant neroli and citrus meet the dark, smoky depths of oud and incense. It’s a fragrance that captures the clash of purity and sin, light and shadow—where innocence gets just a little scorched.

Top Notes: neroli, lemon, bergamot

Middle Notes: amber, nag champa

Base Notes: cedarwood, oud, birch tar, incense

It opens with the brightness of neroli, zesty-lemon, and bergamot—a crisp, clean clarity that immediately draws you in. But then it deepens, as amber and nag champa add a warm, resinous glow. The base is dark and smoky, with cedarwood, oud, and birch tar curling into an incense haze. It’s a scent of contradictions: fresh and smoky, holy and a little wicked, like walking out of a church and straight into temptation.

This scent is a piece of my childhood, rooted in springtime Sundays at church in Greece. Every week, during the sermon, someone would pass a tray for donations, carrying a beautiful silver flask of cologne to dab on your hand after you gave your coin. The scent—neroli and citrus—mixed with the smoky incense, the freshly ironed clothes, and the waxy glow of candles. For a kid, it felt like a reward, a fleeting moment of ritual that made me feel grown-up. But it was never just about the smell; it was also about the whispers of guilt and curiosity, the struggle to decide what was right and what wasn’t. Unholy Water is my way of bottling those moments—the innocence, the rebellion, and the sacred tangled with the profane.

go ahead, cast the first stone if you dare