I was never a model student back in my Sunday School days, but there is one quote from Proverbs that I've always remembered: “Eat honey, my son, for it is good.” Timeless secular wisdom, in my humble opinion.
Humanity’s historical love of honey makes sense: as sugar cultivation only really ramped up in about the 15th century, honey was likely the sweetest comestible you could get your hands on for millennia. Add to that its beautiful golden hue, the sadomasochistic danger of collecting it, and its wine-like ability to absorb the natural scents and flavors around it, and it’s no wonder that it’s been symbolically synonymous with all things good as far back as the written word takes us. From a biblical lure of the dairy-rich promised land to “the best way to catch flies” to one of the most classic terms of endearment, humanity’s affair with humble bee nectar is one of our most enduring. A personal favorite food memory is the first time I tried honey from a source other than a plastic bear and realized just how complex and flavorful it could be. This same complexity translates to its olfactory attributes, of which modern perfumers have not hesitated to take full advantage.
Traditionally, honey has been a bit of a bridesmaid and never a bride in the fragrance world. While some classic scents have let it shine—like the infamous Dior Poison—honey has conventionally only lent a helping hand to other notes in the form of a touch of warmth or a hint of sweetness. Now that we have moved on from our collective Bath & Body Works trauma and embraced gourmand scents anew, contemporary perfumers are celebrating honey’s floral richness to great success (such as with Gisou’s viral honey hair perfume).
Below is a list of some of the best-honeyed fragrances on the market. If you’ve ever been tempted by honey scents, I highly recommend getting your sticky little Pooh Bear paws on one of these today. (All scents listed are unisex.)
Thumbsucker
Don’t be grossed out by the name—it’s a reference to a Hindu god-king who got pregnant through a sitcom-esque mix-up and, due to not having breasts, had to feed his child on the nectar from his divine veins through a slit in his thumb (so maybe a little gross). In keeping with its deific origins, it’s one of the best honey-forward scents I’ve experienced. The clear, golden note of honey is crisp and exquisitely floral without being too sweet, and is warmed up beautifully by the base notes of Himalayan cedar and bitter almond. With narcissus, violet, and cherry playing second fiddle to honey—and not the other way around, for once—Thumbsucker perfectly captures the subtle scents and flavors of honey that tend to be forgotten in light of its sweetness.
Mad Honey
Mad Honey is tied with Thumbsucker as far as my top honey scents but differs in one big way. Here, honey shares the spotlight equally with another divisive ingredient: rose. I love rose in a gourmand context (if you don’t like rose desserts, try some mahalabia or Persian Love Cake and get back to me), so I shouldn’t have been surprised at how fantastic this pairing is. The first whiff is bursting with both warmth and juiciness, with a lovely nutty undertone, like sitting in a sunbaked courtyard in an old Greek town eating baklava and rosewater loukoumi. Unlike the usual Bulgarian rose, the Damask rose used here has more of a plush, jammy fragrance. With pink pepper, tonka, rum, and earthy patchouli, Mad Honey is a must-have for rose, honey, and gourmand lovers alike.
Kasbah
Inspired by the colorful party scene of 1960s and 1970s Marrakech, Kasbah is a warm and woodsy take on honey. Using white honey brightened with sweet orange and lime and a base of vanilla and leather, this fragrance is less syrupy and more subtle and sophisticated. I don’t personally know what a party in Marrakech with Mick Jagger, YSL, and Veruschka would have smelled like, but I have to imagine Kasbah is pretty close, conjuring up the image of a painfully cool soirée full of sweaty rockstars, Harvey Wallbangers, and burnt-orange upholstery.
Or du Serail
Or du Serail (literally “gold of the seraglio”) leans more into the fruity lusciousness of golden honey. I detected a very distinct mango note, and while that sweetness and acidity are tempered beautifully by herbal tobacco and warming amber, Or du Serail still seems decadently pulpy, bringing back memories of accidentally letting my Mango Kerns go warm on a picnic. Reminiscent of the deep, sticky fragrances of the 1980s, Or du Serail is a new and improved take that radiates smooth subtlety and understated opulence.
Oud for Highness 75
Krigler is the house of a million stories, and Oud for Highness is no exception. Originally created for King Hussein of Jordan in 1975, Oud for Highness is woody, spicy, and rich, made with royal Asian oud. Warmed by amber and sweetened with honey, it also has the most incredible saffron note I’ve ever experienced, clear and resonant and free of any cloying saccharinity. Krigler uses only the best and rarest natural ingredients—for example, oud is the resin from a rare tree infected with an equally rare fungus—to the extent that global warming is actively threatening the production of some of their scents. Oud for Highness feels like an ode to gold, a perfect marriage of aureate saffron, luminous oud, and, of course, golden, luscious honey.
Nektar
Nektar was formulated with the goal of capturing all the different facets of Sidr honey, a rich nectar that comes from the Omani Jujube tree. It is seamlessly complex, capturing perfectly—I don’t know how else to say it—the essence of honey’s seductive, syrupy smoothness. With top notes of clary sage and bergamot, a heart of cinnamon-spiced honey and leather, and a foundation of cedar, vetiver, and Bourbon vanilla, Nektar is surprisingly both fresh and warm, clear and resinous, a harmonious tribute to honey’s multifaceted natural origins that goes down as easy as a shot of Glenfiddich.
Bee
Given the name of this scent, I shouldn’t have been surprised, but this was the most pure, realistic honey scent I found, in absolutely the best way. It smells like a jar of expensive wildflower honey from some Napa farmers’ market. Thick, rich, decadent, and warm, Bee is made with royal jelly, animalic beeswax, and regal incense. The blossomy impression is no accident: Bee includes all the flower notes that I feel already have a hint of honey, like mimosa, orange flower, and almondy heliotrope. Jazzed up with gourmand notes like orange and ginger and smoothed out with a base of tonka and sandalwood, Bee is like an exercise in olfactory hyperrealism, encapsulating the naturalistic complexity of honey itself.
Tobacco Honey
Of course, Guerlain has to be on this list; its logo is a bee, after all. While the brand has had multiple fragrances with honey notes over the years, this newest offering stands out for its simple premise of highlighting the marriage of two bold ingredients. Tobacco and honey are truly a match made in heaven, with tobacco’s rich, herbaceous notes of whiskey, caramel, and hay perfectly complementing honey’s warm sweetness. While possessing the same vanilla and amber accords of many honey scents, it also has the intriguing addition of sesame, clove, and anise. With a woody base of precious oud and creamy sandalwood (and a beautifully customizable bottle), Tobacco Honey is a powerhouse scent for any honey lover.
All the Queen’s Men
Dedicated to the steadfast worker bees who produce the ingredient at the center of this fragrance, All the Queen’s Men is a rich and spicy yet decidedly fresh scent. The honey is combined with notes of cinnamon, rum, vanilla, and dried fruit (hungry yet?), accompanied by the coniferous fragrance of fir balsam and other woodsy notes. A scent that pays homage to the often dendrological origins of honey as much as the honey itself, it has both honeyed sweetness and resinous spice in equal measure.
Narquile Candle
Okay, this is not a perfume, but I couldn’t help it: this candle just smells too amazing. If this scent could somehow magically transform into food, I would eat it with a spoon. Whenever I read the phrase “honeycake” in a book as a kid, this scent is the flavor I pictured. The honey note is more like Graham cracker honey or a Medovik cake; not cloyingly sweet or sticky but warm, malty, and slightly caramelized. Another tribute to the winning combo of tobacco and honey, this candle is also spiced for a subtle holiday vibe. While it’s apparently a December bestseller, I would be very okay with this burning in my home year-round.