Mar 03, 2026

Saman Elyass
— Founder & CEO

When I was younger, I used to check my father’s bathroom cabinet often. There were always various aftershaves in there – mostly fougères, and some Old Spice. Occasionally Lacoste. Maybe even an unlabeled bottle of Kouros, where you could just barely make out the logo through the wear of time.

And they all carried the same DNA: oakmoss, sometimes that pissy-sharp coumarin, and loads of aldehydes. Lavender was always present somewhere in the timeline of the scent profile once you started sniffing them.

Typical masculine scents.

They were also, somehow, a comfort. A smell that reminds me of my father.

If my synesthesia had to explain oakmoss, Photography by Jinny Lee.

There’s a traditional lineup of linear chypres and fougères that still represent the genre beautifully:
New York Intense by Parfums de Nicolai,
Kouros by Yves Saint Laurent,
Antaeus by Chanel.

In modern times you could add
Chypre Siam by Rogue Perfumery,
Danger by Roja Parfums,
Reckless by Roja Parfums,
or even X for Men by Clive Christian.

All of these are, by most opinions, excellent examples of the fougère or chypre tradition.

Which leads me to a thought.

If the first fougère – Fougère Royale by Houbigant in 1882 – was groundbreaking and established the blueprint for the genre, why hasn’t there been more innovation since?

Sure, I understand that an authentic fougère carries that oakmoss–lavender cloud of herbaceous deliciousness. And yes, that DNA is present in most fougères released today.

But still.
It’s been 144 years.

Sometimes innovation is
more fun if you’re two

My friend Marcus recently gave me a sample of a perfume called Pan’s Labyrinth.

It’s a collaboration between perfumers Matthew Schmuelian and Rajesh Balkrishnan under the American brand Lost Tribe Perfumes.

Lost Tribe is an all-natural perfume house working with rare materials and approaching perfumery in a very unique, creative way.

The brand has a sort of modern pop-Americana aesthetic with a contemporary twist. Their names and themes often connect to pop culture, films, rap songs, and basketball legends – triggering memory and nostalgia.

Billion Dollar Baby - Nelson de la Nuez.

The second perfumer in the collaboration, Rajesh Balkrishnan, is also a respected epidemiologist and professor of public health at the University of Virginia.

And, quietly, a spectacular perfumer.

He has worked on remarkable collaborations such as Keman for DI SER, Socotra for Hunayn, and more recently a larger collaboration with Mallo Parfums.

So before smelling this, I had high expectations.

Pan’s Labyrinth is a modern fougère reimagined through softness and depth. Developed over a year in collaboration with perfumer Rajesh Balkrishnan, the fragrance went through ten revisions before reaching its final form.

Lavender, moss, and coumarin form the backbone, opening with bergamot, rose otto, bitter almond, and a powder accord that softens the genre’s traditional sharpness. As it settles, sandalwood, musk, oud, and oakmoss bring quiet warmth.

The result is a smooth, enveloping fougère that replaces crisp edges with a velvet texture.

The first 30 minutes

The fragrance opens with a beautiful rose otto.

The otto gives the blend both a sour sparkle and a soft sweetness. It balances beautifully with the powder accord, almost giving a kind of grape Kool-Aid impression.

Texture-wise it feels like velvet, hard candy, and syrup all at once.

There’s also something slightly classical about it, a light, airy French opulence. The opening breeze reminds me of how I imagine the city of Taif in Saudi Arabia might smell in the morning: roses floating in dry desert air.

Photo: Madeline Spanier

Photo by Pawel Czerwinski

The clouds

As the fragrance moves further along, something playful appears.

Clouds.

Pink clouds. Purple clouds. Effervescent and luminous.

If I had to describe it simply, it’s like what artisanal Kool-Aid might taste like, the kind of small-batch drinks you find on the top shelf of expensive organic stores, quietly waiting to drain your wallet for five times the price of juice.

It’s a match made in pink heaven.

The base

Eventually the fragrance settles.

And it’s a safe landing.

The first three to four hours almost depleted my entire serotonin–dopamine reservoir. The base feels like a comfortable resting place.

Here I detect more of the oud and perhaps the bakhoor tincture, though everything is blended so seamlessly that it’s difficult to separate individual elements.

Which almost makes me sad.

Because it means the journey is ending.

Photo by Joey Bania