Cowboy Grass

American desert sage, flowering white thyme, and prairie ryegrass from the Old West. Perfect for bank robberies on horseback.

This is the fragrance that brought us onto the scene in 2008. A strange combination, it used to be made with a homemade tincture of herbs, citrus peels, and flowers. As I learned how to make perfume, I experimented with many ancient methods. This helped me understand the aromatic relationships between plants. There's no better way to learn a skill than to simply start. That's the Cowboy Grass ethos. Although it's quirky, it was an instant hit.

Cowboy Grass is a play of contrasts. The freshness of bergamot with the dustiness of thyme. The medicinal notes of clary sage and basil contrast with the softness of rose. And finally, the dry peanut crackle of vetiver with the warm amber of benzoin.

The scent of cowboy grass evokes images of the American West. The landscape is filled with grasses, herbs, and shrubs that have been used for medicine, food, and rituals for thousands of years. It's impossible to describe how vast the Old West is. The first time I toured the country with a band in college, I remember seeing one plant repeatedly stuck to the front of our van. That year, it was everywhere. I later found out it was clary sage. I was blown away by seeing real tumbleweeds, the Rocky Mountains, the deserts, and so on.

Clary sage is the heart of Cowboy Grass. An herb once used for "eye cracks" or some horrific ancient ailment, clary sage is pungent, whitish-green, fresh, and powerful. It can be channeled in many directions. In CBG, the green grassy notes are extended toward the top of the fragrance, breaking through the red, woody freshness of the rosewood-bergamot complex. The grassy effect is modified in the base, where a rich maple tone of vetiver and amber is found. The vastness of the grassy plains is almost sacred to an American.

Cowboy Grass is dirty and leathery. Not the warm, aristocratic leather of the parlor sofas, but the saddles worn and ragged by the years of riders traversing the West. Perhaps there's even a hint of the ashy, oily smell of an antique Colt 45 revolver strapped to the seat. That's what Mick might have smelled like the moment he howled out the chorus in "Torn & Frayed" (part of the Stones' epic "Exile on Main Street"—a masterpiece of American sonic language).

Side note: An Italian man who is influential in the beauty business once told me that Cowboy Grass doesn't smell like cowboys at all.

- DS

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