Eau de Parfum
Petal to the Metal
Key Notes
She’s elegant. She’s glamorous. And she’s flooring it.
PETAL TO THE METAL is not your average rose. This one’s got a wild streak. Inspired by Edward’s mum (part floral, part rev head), it’s a sharp-tongued bloom with a glint in its eye that trades dainty for daring. With a V12 underfoot and a rose behind her ear, she takes the long way home just to feel the curve of the road. A trail of white smoke, a whisper of fuel, and a flash of lipstick in the rearview.
It opens with the sharp snap of green mandarin and Sichuan pepper, softened by the unexpected crunch of green hazelnut. Cassis gives a nod to something familiar, but this rose doesn’t stay in its lane. Wild roses get tangled with patchouli and eucalyptus leaves, grounding the heart in something cool and distinctly Australian.
The dry down hums like an engine cooling in the shade, velvety cashmere woods, oakmoss, and a soft skin musk linger long after she’s gone.
No brakes. No clichés. No passengers.
This is a rose that knows who she is. A collision of power and polish.
She leaves you in her dust. Scented, stunned, and wishing you’d kept up.
White Denim
Petal to the Metal
Every (S)MER fragrance is a memory in a bottle. This one is the most personal yet.
It's for my mum, Sara. Not "Sarah." She'd cut you for saying that.
She raised three reckless boys, built a serious career, and drove fast the entire time. Efficiently, she'd say. Her own dad called her a lead foot, so maybe that's where I get it. Licence points came and went. She never slowed down for any of them.
She's part floral, part rev head. Sharp tongued, stylish, never on time, and always worth waiting for.
And now she's in the fold for real. She's there in the lab with me: filling, labelling, polishing, packing every bottle and candle by hand. Nothing gets past her eye. If you're holding a (S)MER bottle right now, chances are her hands touched it before yours.
This one's for you, Mum.
x EH
The Thread
Wild Turkish Rose
The rose in Petal to the Metal grows where roses have grown for centuries: the valleys of Isparta, Turkey, where entire towns smell of petals for one month a year.
The harvest can't wait and can't be rushed. The flowers open before dawn and start losing their oil the moment the sun hits them, so they're picked by hand in the dark and the early light, and processed the same day. It takes thousands of blooms, picked one by one, to make a few drops of what ends up on your skin.
Most rose in modern perfume is polite. A single note, scrubbed clean. Turkish rose is the wild version: honeyed and spicy, green and a little sharp, alive in a way you can't synthesise.
That's the rose doing 180 through this fragrance. We just gave her the keys.
Some things can't be rushed, faked, or made anywhere else.
That's why it's in the bottle.
Try it on first
All four scents in 2ml vials, fifty dollars, and the full $50 comes back as credit on your full-size bottle. Wear them for a week. Find the one that's yours.
Like trying on jeans before you walk out in them.