Our Story
The Story Behind ENCTD
It all started coming together when my husband said,
“You have got to start making your own perfumes.”
In that moment, it clicked—and somehow, it made more sense than anything else had in a long time.
It didn’t feel like a new idea. It felt like a remembering.
Scent has always called to me. As a child, I would pick flowers along the way and soak them in a carrier oil for weeks, hoping to create a fragrant potion I could anoint myself with. I didn’t know the word for it then, but I was chasing atmosphere, intimacy, and beauty. I experimented with melting soap, layering oils, exposing resions to heat, even burning cone incense imported from India just to watch the scent linger in the air. Always searching for new ways to connect through scent.
Then life took an unexpected turn.
I lost a large part of my memory—both old and recent—due to functional amnesia. Major moments disappeared. Shared experiences with people I loved were no longer accessible. I couldn’t recall milestones, or familiar faces in the same way. And even now, I often struggle to hold on to meaningful moments before they fade into blurred traces.
That’s when I began to realize… my scent memory stayed.
Even when faces, voices, or places slipped away—fragrance remained. It could bring back feelings, whole chapters of my life, in vivid emotional detail. I could feel, cry, laugh, and reconnect—all from a single note lingering in the air.
That was the beginning of a new kind of remembering.
I started building an archive of fragrant memories—ones I could revisit, share, and feel deeply. Not just the joyful ones, but even the bittersweet. They all became part of me. I began creating perfumes not just to smell beautiful—but to hold feeling, intention, and presence.
Fragrance was never just a hobby.
I’ve always worn scent based on mood, season, outfit—or none of that at all.
It’s a form of expression—like poetry for the senses. I wear scent the way some people wear color: to match my mood, set the tone, or stir something within. I never followed rules. I wasn’t afraid to blind buy, wear a "masculine" note, or mist a summer scent in the dead of winter. It’s never been about fitting in. It’s been about belonging to myself.
My husband saw that in me and gave me the push I didn’t know I needed.
Now, Enchanted Alchemy is where I translate memories into bottles. It’s where emotion becomes wearable, and storytelling takes the form of slow, intentional, small-batch perfume—crafted with care, made to last, and kind to the Earth.
This is Enchanted Alchemy.
How do you want to be remembered?