I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness…
—Allen Ginsberg Howl
Perhaps the iconic poem of the Beat Generation, Howl needed to be cast as a perfume. By “cast” we mean to make a mold of it, as in the lost wax process, so that you can feel the time it portrays with your mind through scent. This was a time of big perfumes, the discovery of patchouli, cigarette smoke, chypre with a wild touch of something from the east. There was sweat and sex, the world was discovered for the first time.
Possets’ interpretation of Howl is unabashedly sexy, driven mad by welling passions. Black, red and amber musks wrestle furiously with sandalwood and opium tar resin. There is nothing light, sweet, or gentle about this scent. A burning incense backs it up, black patchouli stands in the forefront. Dark, musky, resinous.
Tremendously savage, dark and sweet like molasses rather than sugar.
…and yet, there is something innocent about it all.