As a perfumer, I’ve worked with countless raw materials, each with its own character and story. But one has always stood apart for me: cistus.
There’s something about its duality, its quiet strength, its earthy elegance, that speaks directly to my instincts. I often say I’m a daughter of the Kazakh steppes, a place where beauty is vast, harsh, and silent. Cistus reminds me of that. It holds something wild and rooted. Something ancient yet alive.







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