The Gothic Aromancer: Legend-Led Fragrance with Cursed
Inside Cursed, redefining fragrance through story-led composition
By: The Lace Ledger Staff
Image courtesy of @audhd_photography
Betrayed by the endless parade of luxury beauty counters and their soul-less, cookie-cutter curations, she was tirelessly searching for a fragrance that could mirror her darkness.
Light fractured across mirrored displays as she moved from counter to counter, the air thick with sweetness that clung and collapsed all at once. Bottles gleamed in identical rows, each promising something unforgettable, each dissolving before it could take hold. The scent shifted, blurred, soured and disappeared.
She was searching for something with depth. A cemetery after midnight. A raven stationed above. The carnivorous presence of a mid-century vampire moving through a crowded room, unnoticed but unmistakable.
Just as she began to abandon all hope, something sinful appeared in the distance. A evil flicker. A ominous glow. The air shifted as she approached, sweetness falling away. It was strange. Unsettling. Positively haunted. This is exactly what she was looking for.
From within, Cursed, the gothic Aromancer spoke, not in formulas, but in consequence. We listened as the process revealed itself: scent summoned from narrative, notes chosen for what they imply as much as what they are, compositions built slowly until the air feels altered.
Consider this your invitation into a world where each elixir is drawn from the air of aftermath, doomed from the moment it is composed. Complex and unforgettable.
1. Cursed fragrances like Moonstruck, Kill For Me and Vampiren Veil read almost like chapters in dark fairytales . When developing a new scent, does the story arrive first, or do the key notes lead you toward the narrative?
The story always comes first. Always.
It usually begins with a single ominous idea. Something like: “A woman betrayed, who chose not to forgive”. I write from that until it feels real enough to step into. It becomes the spine of everything.
Only then do I begin composing the scent. And even then, I’m not asking what smells nice. I’m asking what the air would actually carry in the aftermath of that moment.
For example, for our fragrance Pretty as Poison, I chose Bitter Almond very deliberately. Not just for its scent, but because it portrays the unmistakable trace of Cyanide. That quiet implication changed the entire tone of the fragrance.
Image courtesy of Cursed
2. Cursed describes themself as the Aromancer, which feels wonderfully theatrical. What does that title mean to your team, and how does it shape your approach to perfume making?
We’ve never felt right calling ourselves perfumers in the traditional sense. Aromancer is closer.
Aroma: scent, atmosphere.
Mancer: someone who practices or conjures.
We’re not just blending something pleasant. We’re crafting something that behaves more like an elixir than a perfume. Every creation starts with the same question: If this legend had just unfolded, what would still be hanging in the air? Not symbolically, but literally.
That approach removes us from trends entirely. Trends don’t matter when you’re trying to recreate a place, a moment, or a consequence. The result is something that feels less like a product, and more like an artefact you’ve come across.
Image courtesy of Cursed (model @threnodyinvelvet)
3. The visual world of Cursed has an unmistakably gothic aesthetic, though not in a costume-like way. What aspects of gothic culture or storytelling resonate most deeply with your team?
Cursed is a Frankenstein of different eras stitched together. There’s the romantic tragedy of 19th-century gothic literature, everything beautiful, but doomed. Velvet, candlelight, old stone, incense that’s settled into walls over decades.
There’s also psychological horror. Not shock or spectacle, but that persistent sense that something is slightly wrong, even when everything looks perfect.
And then, there’s modern alternative culture; raw, expressive, and unapologetic.
What matters is how those elements are handled. It can’t feel like costume or homage. It has to feel like it’s always existed, like you’ve just stumbled across it rather than it being presented to you.
Image courtesy of Cursed
4. Every perfumer seems to have a handful of beloved ingredients they return to. Which materials feel most essential to the Cursed olfactory universe?
Patchouli will always be in our bones. Not just as a scent, but for its history and olfactory links to death, earth, and exoticism.
Beyond that, we’re most drawn to ritualistic materials that carry weight beyond their scent. Incense. Resins. Smoke. Things that don’t just sit on the skin, but create a presence around you.
We’re far less interested in immediate impact, and more in how something unfolds over hours, how it settles, and what it leaves behind.
Image courtesy of Cursed
5. Looking across the Cursed collection, is there one fragrance that felt like a milestone release? What makes that composition stand apart?
Pretty as Poison was our inception point, the first time everything aligned. Story, scent, and visual identity all existing in the same world without compromise. There’s a restraint to it I still value. It doesn’t try to please too much. It doesn’t soften itself. It knows exactly what it is. Beautiful… but with dark intent behind it.
That was the moment I realized we didn’t need to conform to the usual perfume house “fake luxury” tropes to make something people would connect with. It set the standard we still work to now.
Image courtesy of Cursed
6. Cursed fragrances have an immersive quality, much like a gothic novel. How do you construct that sense of atmosphere within a perfume?
It comes from obsession. Most of our fragrances go through well over a hundred versions before they’re “finished”. Not because we’re unsure… but because anything less often feels unfinished.
I might reduce a formula dramatically just to allow one material, say a smoke accord, to behave the way it should without interference.
It has to feel like it was summoned directly from its legend. When someone smells it, even briefly, they should feel like they’ve stepped into something they weren’t entirely meant to experience.
Image courtesy of Cursed
7. What has surprised your team most about the way people connect with Cursed fragrances so far?
How deeply people lean into it. We’re told constantly that attention spans are dead and everything has to be instant. But, when something feels real… people slow down. They read the legends. They return to them. They find meaning in places we didn’t explicitly point to.
That level of engagement isn’t typical, and it’s something I’m very aware of. It’s rare, and it’s something we never take for granted.
Image courtesy of Cursed
8. Running an independent perfume house inevitably brings unexpected lessons. What has the process of building Cursed taught you about creativity or persistence?
That constraint can sharpen your instincts. We have indeed built Cursed independently, without a penny of outside investment. Which means every decision carries weight and risk.
If something doesn’t meet the standard, we don’t release it. It either earns its place or we bury it six feet deep… and leave it there. That kind of constraint forces clarity. You become much more decisive about what belongs, and what doesn’t.
Persistence for me comes from a strong vision & dedication to my craft. When you can already imagine the end result, you don’t waiver when things get difficult… which they always do.
9. The world of Cursed feels expansive and still unfolding. What directions or ideas are currently whispering to you for future creations?
This is just our first chapter. We’ve been intentionally restrained with releases. Building solid foundations before expanding.
Our upcoming work remains secret, but the tone has shifted slightly more atmospheric & immersive for the next. Some of the ideas we’re working with feel less about what sits on the surface, more about what pulls beneath. We also have some unique collabs taking shape, one with an artist who creates from behind a similar veil to us.
Image courtesy of Cursed
10. Following last year's release of del Toro's Frankenstein, we wait with bated breath for his reimagining of the Phantom of the Opera. If Cursed were to design a fragrance celebrating the film, what would it smell like?
Damp velvet, cold stone, a faint trace of candle smoke lingering in an empty opera house. There would be something hauntingly romantic at its core, a rose, but not a fresh one. More macabre & decaying, wrapped in resin and shadow.
As it develops, something more intimate would emerge. Skin, warmth, a quiet sensuality hidden beneath the mask. And beneath it all, a subtle blood-like metallic edge. Not sharp, but present.
It wouldn’t be a fragrance that announces itself loudly. It would draw people in slowly, almost against their will. Just like the Phantom.
What lingers is the point of view. Nothing here is softened to appeal, and that’s exactly why it works. Once you’ve experienced fragrance this way, it becomes harder to settle for anything that sacrifices alignment.
Which Cursed fragrance will you try first?
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