Moth
The opening of Moth feels like stepping into a spice merchant's storeroom at dusk—warmth radiates from cinnamon and clove while cumin and black pepper add an almost animalic edge.
The scent fingerprint
Weighted by intensity across 13 accords.
Every perfume in Sillage is represented as a distribution across canonical accord slugs — a lingua franca for scent. Two fragrances with overlapping fingerprints are scent-twins, even if they share no literal note.
- Cinnamon60
- Black Pepper50
- Vetiver45
- Musk45
- Jasmine40
By the editors · 2 min readThe opening of Moth feels like stepping into a spice merchant's storeroom at dusk—warmth radiates from cinnamon and clove while cumin and black pepper add an almost animalic edge. There's an immediate tension between sweetness and earthiness, saffron glowing like a distant lamp. The florals that emerge don't lighten this atmosphere so much as haunt it: jasmine and rose appear softened, almost blurred, as if seen through gauze or twilight haze.
As it settles, the composition reveals its true nocturnal character. Honey thickens the base without making it gourmand, while smoke and vetiver ground everything in shadow. The musk and ambergris lend a skin-like intimacy that feels both ancient and strangely vulnerable. This is a fragrance for those drawn to the beauty of decay and preservation—cabinet curiosities, pressed flowers, the particular melancholy of things drawn to light but belonging to darkness.
