A soft wisp of powder trails across skin, with glints of spice and aromatic bitters. Moroccan iris, it’s fluted edges fluttering, holds it’s picturesque form for one tender moment before crumbling into dust. A dry, golden wind (ginger) blows in and sweeps up iris’ sweet powder into it’s silent, shimmering sandstorm. Flower and rhizome reform and unify into a breeze and when they blow across cedar, their team expands to include this bright, bitter Virginian wood. Enigmatic and intriguing, Arz El-Rab gives skin in a lustrous, subtle finish. A je ne sais quoi sparkle.