Studio Tanaïs approaches perfume as a way of returning the self to itself through material, ritual and desire. In this collection, sensuality is understood as something sacred, earthly and deeply embodied. It is a philosophy where pleasure is never separate from ritual, and what nourishes the soul arrives through the medium of the body.
This vision is profoundly articulated in the founder’s memoir, In Sensorium: Notes for My People. Here, fragrance is a map of history and a language of liberation, used to navigate the "fault lines of power" from colonialism to caste.
Throughout the collection, the materials of the earth become instruments of self-possession, carrying a gravity that feels offered, tended and almost devotional. The following selection of fragrances offers a deeper look at the brand’s olfactive world, seen through the author’s memories and evocative excerpts from the book. These scents do not simply smell beautiful; they clear, mark, consecrate and protect.
MALA
“When I returned to New York, I missed my old [New Delhi] haunts and scents of the little Gold Leaf cigarettes I smoked, tea, spices, garlands of rose, carnation and marigold dangling from the wedding shops, so I recreated that place in this perfume, Mala, as in, a garland of flowers, beads, and stories; in Spanish, a bad woman. I use a single drop of scent of a loose woman°—choya nakh oil—to fix the perfume, so it lingers.”
—Tanaïs, “Mala,” In Sensorium: Notes for My People
MATI
“Mati held the scent of their motherland, Purba Bengal, East Bengal, ancestral Bengal. When they tasted matí for the last time, they absorbed the essence of desh…They knew they might never return home again, so they settled for the memory of the earth, rain-wetted matí on their tongues.”
—Tanaïs, “Mati,” In Sensorium: Notes For My People
PILGRIMAGE
“Losing my sense of smell terrified me, threatening my livelihood and what brought me so much pleasure. When I regained my strength and nose, I went to my perfume studio to work on a commissioned fragrance. Bay of Bengal saltwater accord, dirtied drop by drop with the murky notes of patchouli, seaweed absolute, and red Buddha wood, reminiscent of river pollution, pyre ashes, aquatic funk. Mitti attar accord sourced from Kannauj, remnants of worship flowers, carnation, rose, and marigold, bright and spicy florals punctuated by cardamom and the nutmeg at its heart. Perfume would be my pilgrimage.”
—Tanaïs, “Pilgrimage,” from In Sensorium: Notes For My People by Tanaïs
MOJAVE
“Joshua Tree, January 2020. (...) In the afternoon, I would drive to the park to take a hike and record what I saw and smelled. Juniper needles I cracked between my fingers, the scent of wet clay from the remnants of snowfall in the shadows between boulders, untouched by the sun. (...) This land, where the Mojave and Sonoran deserts meet, once belonged to the Serrano, Cahuilla, Chemehuevi, and Mojave tribes. (...) I made a perfume called Mojave, to honor the First People of this land. Sacred notes of palo santo, wild white sage, and black copal are the incenses of the Americas, burned in ceremony for protection and clarity; as oils they smell as cool as a desert night.”
—Tanaïs, “Mojave,” from In Sensorium: Notes For My People by Tanaïs
