The masculine rose
Rose is often described as feminine.
Soft. Romantic. Delicate.
That idea feels so familiar that it’s rarely questioned. But it does not follow historically, nor botanically.
For centuries, rose has been used across cultures in ways that had nothing to do with gender.
In Middle Eastern perfumery, rose was paired with woods, resins, smoke, and spice.
In South Asia, it was used in oils and attars worn by everyone.
In European history, rose appeared in early masculine fragrances, grooming products, and medicinal preparations.
So how did rose become “feminine”? Marketing.
As perfume became commercialised in the 20th century, fragrance was split into categories that were easier to sell: one aisle for men, one aisle for women. Notes were assigned genders simply because of the lack of complexity in the commercial perfume production.
Here’s the truth, rose is incredibly complex. Depending on how it’s blended, it can be:
dry and peppery
dark and resinous
green and sharp
warm and animalic
Rose can feel expansive and even austere. There is nothing inherently soft about it. It’s the context it’s placed in. Pair rose with sugar and vanilla, and it reads sweet. Pair it with leather, woods, spice, or smoke, and it reads deep and restrained.
Same flower. Different story altogether. That variation has nothing to do with masculinity or femininity.
At Kotinetta, rose is treated as what it actually is: a structural note. Sometimes I use it to soften edges, or sharpen them.
How it wears depends on the composition, and the person.
Love, Azama