A unique olfactory experience
Think of it this way: natural tuberose, jasmine, osmanthus, mimosa, carnation, and even rose are plant materials that you’ll almost never encounter in commercial perfumery, simply because you can’t scale a business that operates with very expensive materials due to low yields. You can’t make a hundred bottles of perfume with a hight content carnation in it because no one will have enough carnation to sell it to you. So what’s your best bet if you want to know what some flowers smell like in a composition? An artisan who works with small batches and collaborates with distillers and suppliers who are particular about their passions.
In this kind of work I collaborate only with leading professionals who can guarantee the quality of their distilled oils, concretes and absolutes, such as Esensera in Denmark, Heritage Oils in Italy, or the occasional ethnobotanist and resin nerd I cross my path with.
I like to think of the stuff I pour into my scent creations as the ‘stuff of the gods,’ as only the best will do. This means investing a considerable amount of money in the basic and precious ingredients, which also means, invariably, that what I make can only qualify as exclusive, insofar as it occupies the high end spot on the spectrum of things of value.
What they say
‘Sensei, it’s perfect. You really should create a whole line based on that scent. AMAZING.’ – Kelley Becker, Germany
‘Thank you for creating such magic. Amidst the chaos, your creativity shines bright, uplifting our hearts.’ – Julia Chapple, Australia
‘Everything is so beautiful and mystical, your handwriting, the packaging, your words, the scent, I've just put a little bit on my skin... So delicious, addictive and delicate at the same time. Thank you, I will use it so proudly, so gratefully, so confidently, my best gift ever, my most powerful talisman. Thank you for your art and wisdom. I admire you so much, count me among your friends and grateful followers.’ – Fatima Oropesa, Mexico
‘When you announced your oud oil, somehow I managed to be one of the first people there, expecting it to be sold out. For a moment, I thought I would buy all 9, but relented and got just one that I love and treasure (and use). It was lovely to just wander in, without racing, and still be ever so lucky.’ – Noelle Sinclair, USA
‘An exquisite and lovely thing. The face oil smells divine.’ – Jessica Newton, USA





















About Agger Senses
We use knowledge to remedy our human condition. But we can’t remedy the odours that enter our noses. I’m interested in that. In addition to weaving words, I blend perfume oils. Old Testament style. The Song of Songs style. Nothing more, nothing less. While I fling my books to the larger public, I reserve my alchemy for the noses who already know what the world of desire is really about.
Under the signature, AGGER SENSES, I create limited edition fragrances. Agger is a magical place in Denmark at the edge of everything. In this liminal space I encounter the purity of elements, with the Zephyr, the west wind, leading the way. The sea is only 200 meters away from my house. I hear its waves and smell the salt. The lyme grass and its roots is my local ‘vetiver,’ the strong ingredient in perfumery. The buckthorn is my ‘frankincense.’ The wild rosa rugosa is my precious ‘rosa damascena.’
The whole place oozes with secrecy, the kind that we encounter in old perfumery books, the books we read for the type of knowledge the Greeks call metis, the knowledge derived from keen observation, acquired skill, subtle wit, and quick judgment. I invite you to experience my ‘reading’ of plant matter and precious elixirs in the form of a blend of talismanic proportion, a magical artefact that does more than correct a corrupt nose.
In this kind of work I collaborate only with leading professionals who can guarantee the quality of their distilled oils, concretes and absolutes, such as Esensera in Denmark, Hermitage Oils in Italy, Enfleurage in New York, alongside with a small number of ethnobotanist nerds and distillation fanatics.
I like to think of the stuff I pour into my scent creations as the ‘stuff of the gods,’ as only the best will do. This means investing a considerable amount of money in the basic and precious ingredients, which also means, invariably, that what I make can only qualify as exclusive, insofar as it is both scarce and occupies the high end spot on the spectrum of things of value.
For more insight into this work, read my reflections here, Scents and Divination.