I kept the creative process of Treazon concealed from you for the most part. A little glimpse into the artistic direction have been published last year - at which point the formulation was actually ready!

Treazon perfume has been a raw concept for quite some time now. It all began as an impromptu study of tuberose, broken down into its many components - specific molecules, and raw materials that help coax the tuberosiness out of the rather subtle absolute.



Poucher's book played a big role in helping me discover aspects of tuberose I've never before thought would be so important and prevalent in creating a "big tuberose":
From that, I created a sketch that was very simple, yet powerful: tuberose, birch, vanilla, anise, cinnamon and cassis. I blended them up guided by my nose, and set them aside to oblivion with a random name "Treazon" sketched all over the formula and the lab bottle. That was back in October 2005!

This simple little perfume turned out to be crucial in creating the effect I desired so much years later, after experiencing the epiphany of Tubereuse Criminelle in Paris; yet being disappointed at the drydown (too similar to Fleur d'Oranger, in my humble opinion): the almost disturbing scent that takes over the room after dark after bringing home a stem or two of tuberose from the flower shop. It usually happens only in the summer time. And when I find them - I always feel particularly lucky. They are often hard to find, and even once you do find one or two - they tend to be either buried in a bouquet with a bunch of indolic lilies; or very unimpressive visually as they travel long and far and the edges of the petals are often browned and damaged.
 Yet non of this prevents the flower from taking up the entire house (I live and work in a two story apartment) and it makes the few days of living with a tuberose stem quite memorable. Across the street from my home there is a retirement home, and more often than never there are service cars that take folks to their last trip, which is rather sad to watch; but is also a constant reminder of the frailty and preciousness of life. I feel like we live in a very unhealthy segregated society where we separate ourselves from the threatening realities of illness, death and depleted youth; not to mention the "inconvenience" of chattering children, toddlers etc.

So imagine the evening coming down, the bone-flower  placed on my windowsill facing downwards on an ambulance across the street... And the scent of heady flowers coming off strong and potent, non apologetic, and invisibly takes over the scene. That was the inspiration for Treazon at its final stages, which helped me refine my vision for it and also develop a visual representation for the perfume - an aspect that is challenging for such a small establishment; yet sometimes very helpful not only for marketing but also for creating the right mood and being able to communicate my olfactory "story" to my audience. Which is what I'm trying to do now.

It's also a challenge to explain how or why I pick the names for my perfumes. You will notice, if you glance at my perfume collection, that there are some scents that are particularly bold and have big somewhat political names - Espionage, Schizm, Sabotage... These always have a healthy (I think) dose of humour in them but are tackling rather heavy political phenomenon that have caused mankind much pain and strife. I suppose it's just my way of dealing with the things that constantly cast a shadow over our lives and my particular life story (which thankfully is only "not-directly" affected by all the big wars that have been fought by my ancestors and all their resulting misery - displacement, wounding and so on and so forth).

Treason is perhaps the most unforgivable thing: betraying your own people for a very questionable and doubtful cause. Yet it is something we do on a daily basis without even noticing: we betray the people we love the most. We do that unknowingly by revealing something personal about them to someone else who wants to hurt them or gain from their loss. We say bad things about those who are near and dear to us and betray their secrets just because we are weak and need someone to listen to our troubles. And simply because we don't know any better. So you see, treason is not something that is only reserved for heroic wars and to great betrayers of countries, spies and defectors. It's something that we commit in times of truce - or peace - as well.

And to me, all those things associated with treason and treachery have that toxic, bittersweetness of seductive poison. Which is why I picked notes that are rather strange and unusual and controversial. The original sketch has all these components: birch, which is full of salicilates, feeling simultaneously medicinal (wintergreen, menthol and cough syrup) and candy-like (grape and cherry). Cassis is at the same time delicious and berry-like, yet also has what many refer to as "cat pee" smell.

And last but not least: tuberose itself is a flower that people tend to either love or detest. So I won't be in the least surprised if this is the reaction that Treazon will garner: people will either love it, or hate it, for what it is, what it smells like, what it represents - and the name (spelled with a "Z" to make it a little more fun and less literal; besides, I love the look of the letter "Z" and I've been traditionally substituting it for the "s" in many of my perfume names where it is slightly possible).

To the "basic" sketch of Treazon I gradually added other notes to fine tune it and create more complexity and sophistication. Massoia bark for extra milky lacontic goodness. Wintergreen to make it even more medicinal and grape-like. Yellow mandarin for intense floralcy. And that spectacular orange blossom from Egypt for it's particularly grape-like quality, only to intensity the tuberose effect. There is also a tea rose from China (a thing of a rarity), and orris butter and load of vanilla absolute - the dark, slightly woody, real stuff. And did I mention the African stone tincture yet? It brings forth the animalic quality and makes it just ever so slightly meaner - and deeper. And most importantly: a very salicylic tuberose from India, to balance the more buttery and slightly green one I had. All in all, there is 34% tuberose in the entire formula. And at $8,000 a kilo, this makes the final (aka retail) price of Treazon hardly a profitable affair. But I want you to enjoy it while I can make it - so please do!

Polianthes tuberosa - single stemmed flowers, the ones that are used for perfumery. 

To the layperson, the mention of tuberose usually brings to mind “rose”. The name, however, refers to the tuberous roots of the plant, which is related to narcissus and is native to Central America and Mexico. Nowadays, it is mostly cultivated in India and to a lesser extent in Egypt and in Southern France. Currently there are only two tuberose fields left in Grasse, which are processed by enfleurage: the preferred method for this flower, which possesses the rare quality of emitting more scent after it’s been cut and separated from the plant. Therefore, enfleurage is actually more cost effective as it yields much more absolute than by solvent extraction. Enfleurage, however, is not possible in India because of cultural and religious restrictions: for enfleurage requires two types of animal fats - and tallow. Cows are sacred to the Hindus, and pork is prohibited by the Muslims - two major populations in the flower growing regions of India. The good news is, that Indians are currently exploring enfleurage with vegetable fats - certainly something to look forward to!

The flowers themselves look somewhat like lilies arranged on a tall stalk that is one meter in height. The plants grow from a bulb for 4 years before they bloom in July! This of course furthers the cost of the absolute as the land remains in use but with no profitable crop for so long.The tuberose for perfumery is different species than the one for bouquets that you’d find at the florist (though their scent is similar) – they are from the single flower variety, where as the ornamental ones (grown in gardens and available in the flower shops) have two flowers clustered together on the stem.

As far as the fragrance goes - tuberose has made a name for itself as a narcotic, sedative scent that is dangerously seductive to the senses and even has the powers to make innocent girls unable to control themselves sexually. Virgins and young girls are not permitted on the tuberose fields after dark from fear that their innocence will be compromised... As a perfume, tuberose scents are known for being grand and at times even obnoxious (i.e.: Poison, Fracas, Jardin de Bagatelle, Carnal Flower, etc).

Tuberose absolute, however, is everything but loud and obnoxious. It is soft, smooth, waxy, with hints of green and almost mushroomy qualities. Some specimens might feel a bit rubbery or medicinal - and this can be either an interesting and desirable quality or an unwanted one, depending on the perfumer's perspective. The best tuberose would feel buttery, creamy and with sweet grape top notes from methyl antrhanilate (also present in large amounts in orange blossom, ylang ylang and other white floral notes). A somewhat off-putting medicinal note may also be present, reminiscent of wintergreen or birch - which comes off the methyl salicilate that is also one of the constituents.

According to Bo Jensen, tuberose’s chemical makeup comprises of “benzyl alcohol and -acetate, methyl and benzyl benzoate, methyl salicylate, methyl anthranilate, eugenol, geraniol and nerol and -acetates, and farnesol, but its power and original effect is due to a multitude of gamma- and delta-lactones, some of them only found in tuberose” (i.e.: 6(Z),9(Z)-dodecadiene-4-olide, tuberolide and tuberolactone). It is probably those lactones that account for that creamy-dreamy, buttery characteristic of a good tuberose absolute, which is even more obvious in the tuberose floral wax.


Tuberose at the flower shop - this is a different variety, that is double-stemmed. 

To say that tuberose is one of my favourite raw materials would be an understatement. It's the queen of the flowers, mistress of the night and a welcome participant in too many perfumes I've created. I say "too many" because it is a very costly raw material, going for about 8,000 per kilo, making some of my perfumes almost unrealistic for commerce.
 
White Potion was the first perfume I've created with it, back in my very early days in 2001. In White Potion, the tuberose plays centre stage but has a very muted, well-mannered persona (thus making it a perfect member of the Language Of Flowers - my soliflore collection that is an homage to time past where soliflores were synonymous with elegance and refinement. And it was particularly fun to use tuberose in the other spin-offs of White Potion: the body oil, which only "opens up" once it's on the skin (due to how the salicilates are behaving in the oil base - they are almost "invisible") and in the fragrant white chocolate bar. I used it later in my contemporary, all-natural soliflores to give a white floral, creamy nuance in Gigi (gardenia soliflore, where tuberose has a traditional place to accentuate the big white floral qualities of gardenia), InCarnation (carnation soliflore) and Zohar (orange blossom soliflore).

Schizm, also created in 2001 - was an outrageous Chypre floral animalic, with all the white florals imaginable (tuberose, orange blossom, sambac and grandiflorum jasmines), counterbalanced with dry cedarwood and salty oakmoss, and a touch of tart mandarin and savoury cepes and black pepper.  Schizm was the first perfume I created with a name in mind first - and than the perfume came along. The concept was for a perfume with "schism" or division with it; and indeed, it begins more dry and almost acrid; yet develops into this sensual, floral-musky chypre.

In Razala, tuberose plays in the exotic, nearly erotic fantasy of an animalic, Arabian-inspired perfume. It has all the makings of a harem perfume: myrrh, oud, ambergris, saffron, rose... Tuberose gives it a creamy touch which along with the magnolia brightens it and brings some light into a rather dense and seductive composition.

l'Écume des Jours is that rare place where my wildest imagination followed Boris Vian's book of the same name. It is a true fantasy perfume, and the tuberose played a role in the deadly "lung water lily accord" - which is simply a made-up illness that only Boris Vian could come up with and make it seem beautiful.

Last but not least is Treazon: my newest perfume, which is a study in tuberose that has gone wild (more on that in a separate post). It's like White Potion's evil sister, accentuating all the aspects in tuberose that are more controversial and disagreeable. It was done before me (it was compared to Tubereuse Criminelle, which does not surprise me), but this one is with natural ingredients, exaggerating the salicylic aspects with an overdose of wintergreen and utilizing lactonic notes such as massoia bark to bring forth that creamy, milky and sweet aspect of tuberose, yet keep it dark and extreme.

"A traitor needs two things: somebody to hate, and somebody to love." - John LeCarre

It is Treazon time at Ayala Moriel Parfums!
I'm pleased to announce that Treazon is out of the lab and ready for your enjoyment - at your own risk, of course!
So far, this scent is proving to be highly addictive and controversial...

The original launch date was scheduled for 12.12.12 - yet I've decided to release it a bit earlier, due to prodcution and schedule changes. Treazon is the first perfume with the new packaging that my graphic designer has been labouring over since the spring. Very excited to share it with the first who dare order a bottle of Treazon!

Tuberose stems unveil toxic wintergreen; narcotic blossoms stare at death across the street. Nightfall. Window screens.

Treazon is tuberose at its darkest and most dangerous moment – right after dark.
From than on, the seemingly innocent little white flower’s aroma is so intoxicating,
that young maidens were prohibited from walking through tuberose fields, from fear that
their decency will be betrayed, and their innocence defeated by lust.

Try this at your own risk: bring home a fresh-cut tuberose stem. Wait till after sunset and explore your the limits of olfactory seduction. Alternatively, you can dab a drop or two of Treazon on your pulse points, and watch your heart race to meet... danger! 

Top notes: Aniseed, Cinnamon, Wintergreen, Sweet Birch, Cassis
Heart notes: Tuberose Absolute, Orange Blossom, Orris Root
Base notes: Benzoin, Vanillla, Massoia Bark, African Stone Tincture

Rave Reviews for Treazon Perfume!

"The composition isn’t your usual floral fare – Treazon has an odd mix of infatuation with opulent Tuberose and a nonchalant glamour of something a bit retro". -
Visit Beauty Huile to read Nav's review of Treazon, my upcoming killer tuberose.

"Ayala Moriels's tuberose is a true femme fatale. She teases and tempts, all the while you know she's nothing but danger (...) what I love most here is the even more narcotic vanilla in the dry-down. It's infused with all the spice and nectar that run through the veins of Treazon, and has a distinct dark and almost animalic character that make the fragrance wonderfully sexy and addictive".
Visit The Non-Blonde to read Gaia's full review of Treazon.


"The opening blast of wintergreen will knock your socks off (...) Treazon, which is a natural perfume, softens into a silky, dusky, not-buttery tuberose accented with vanilla and spices. It has an almost wine-y undercurrent".
Visit Now Smell This to read the rest of Robin's review of Treazon - which is described for the 2nd time as "breathtakingly beautiful" (the first one to say it is Gaia aka The Non-Blonde) and "very wearable". I'm also particularly honoured that this review comes next to the wonderful Forest Walk by my friend & colleague Laurie Erickson, and the 7 Virtues Afghan Orange Blossom (which I'm yet to smell).
And last but not least - read Fragrantica's review of Treazon. 

If you've already tried Treazon, please add your reviews of Treazon or our other recent perfumes - Etrog, Zangvil, New Orleans and Orcas - to MakeUpAlley, Fragrantica or Basenotes and you will be entered to win a Treazon mini ($90 value), or your choice of scent (same or lesser value). Winners will be announced Saturday night (November 18th). Your name will be entered into the draw as many times as your reviews.
Plus: to further increase your chances of winning, leave a comment below telling us which perfume/s you reviewed and where; and tell us what you think of the name Treazon! Your name will be entered as many times as your reviews and comments :-)