Full-size bottle
· 19 products left
$155
3.4 oz
Room 1015 - Purple Mantra
Focus the mind on the transcendental voice within - hear it merging with your own senses. Breathe it in - and it is released. Slow and deep inhaling - of the invisible - it fills your aura with iridescent light - the unexpected blast of INCENSE purifies your thoughts - The purple scent of LAVENDER touches your senses - calming the nervous system - All unnecessary distractions are slowly washed away - your mind is a blank page - ready for a revelation - or a revolution within - Weightless - everything is possible when your spirit is light like an IRIS petal - A sudden sparkle of PINK BERRIES makes you smile - Here it comes, the manifestation of inner peace - While MARJORAM gently weeps - the whisper of WHITE FLOWERS balances your senses - and a CLARY SAGE softly takes you higher. Transparent echoes of AMBROXAN and MUSKS escape upward from your spiritual depths - crossing the barrier between earth and heaven in plumes of MYRRH. All boundaries are pushed. The transcendental source of the creative spirit within you is finally unlocked. Like never before, you are hearing this voice, clearly. Now exhale… and create.
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Featured notes
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Fragrance family
Woody
Rich, textured and warm - these scents evoke assertive sensuality and confidence. Scents in this family are focused around the beautiful harmony between creamy, sensual woods and delicate floral tones, blended with hints of sweetness and amber resin.
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the scent
The Scentbird community has spoken, and this is how reviewers categorized this scent.
- Strong61%
- Warm23%
- Powdery6%
- Sweet3%
- Light3%
- Fresh2%
About the brand
Explore Room 1015
Stop, rewind. A shiny black stretch limo with tinted windows and gleaming hubcaps pulls up to 8104 Sunset Boulevard. Sepia Polaroid, freeze frame. Time to wind back an old cassette with a pencil to a time when the Continental Hyatt Hotel, aka the “Riot House,” was the place to be.
The 70s was a decade of total delirium for any self-respecting rock group. And L.A. was an inevitable stop on the journey. Between concerts, there were three commandments in the Bible of Rock that all managers had to obey: a crowd of totally hysteric fans in the hotel lobby or, more often, in the darkness of an unmade bed, the tour rider to be followed religiously (24 pages about how to present the yogurt for Metallica) and the art of trashing a hotel room. A place of debauchery and nihilism.
Rumor has it that Holiday Inn rooms had an annoying reputation for being as boring as they were destructive to the soul. When you put wild animals in a cage and keep them in a confined space, it’s no surprise if they end up out of control. After all, they’re born to be wild. So, furniture goes flying, fire extinguishers start spraying, beds break and walls crack. When the California heat wilts the palm trees and burns rubber tires, rock ‘n’ roll turns the volume up to 11. There’s an uncontrollable urge to break everything, to turn everything upside-down.
The Riot House trembled on more than one occasion, but never fell down. In 1972, a TV flew out of Room 1015 and landed 10 floors below in a corner of the parking lot. Keith Richards and Bobby Keys – the Stones’ sax player at the time – didn’t think it worked very well. Q.E.D.
Not to mention the motorcycles in the hallways, the rooftop pool overflowing with bubbles, Jim Morrison dangling from a balcony, the epic battles of Keith Moon from The Who… Or, even more iconic, the Christ-like Robert Plant who took himself for a Golden God above the Sunset Trip with his angel’s hair, Nepalese bracelets and skimpy T-shirt, convinced that he had finally found the Stairway to Heaven.
The electric opiate years. No reason, no faith, no laws and definitely no taboos. Sexual liberation and universal love. But, above all, the metronome of an unprecedented creative explosion. Don’t forget that Lemmy Kilmister wrote the song “Motorhead” on a night off at the Riot House.
Today, Room 1015 remains a place of contemplation. The nostalgia of an era of absolute freedom, where the air still holds the lingering smells of sweat, leather, fur, alcohol, a burned patchouli leaf and an open flight case…
The Eagles sang “Hotel California,” with its supposed satanic undercurrents. There were certainly untamed demons in every hotel room from San Francisco to Las Vegas, from Hollywood to Venice Beach. But Room 1015 clearly outnumbered them all.
Learn moreThe 70s was a decade of total delirium for any self-respecting rock group. And L.A. was an inevitable stop on the journey. Between concerts, there were three commandments in the Bible of Rock that all managers had to obey: a crowd of totally hysteric fans in the hotel lobby or, more often, in the darkness of an unmade bed, the tour rider to be followed religiously (24 pages about how to present the yogurt for Metallica) and the art of trashing a hotel room. A place of debauchery and nihilism.
Rumor has it that Holiday Inn rooms had an annoying reputation for being as boring as they were destructive to the soul. When you put wild animals in a cage and keep them in a confined space, it’s no surprise if they end up out of control. After all, they’re born to be wild. So, furniture goes flying, fire extinguishers start spraying, beds break and walls crack. When the California heat wilts the palm trees and burns rubber tires, rock ‘n’ roll turns the volume up to 11. There’s an uncontrollable urge to break everything, to turn everything upside-down.
The Riot House trembled on more than one occasion, but never fell down. In 1972, a TV flew out of Room 1015 and landed 10 floors below in a corner of the parking lot. Keith Richards and Bobby Keys – the Stones’ sax player at the time – didn’t think it worked very well. Q.E.D.
Not to mention the motorcycles in the hallways, the rooftop pool overflowing with bubbles, Jim Morrison dangling from a balcony, the epic battles of Keith Moon from The Who… Or, even more iconic, the Christ-like Robert Plant who took himself for a Golden God above the Sunset Trip with his angel’s hair, Nepalese bracelets and skimpy T-shirt, convinced that he had finally found the Stairway to Heaven.
The electric opiate years. No reason, no faith, no laws and definitely no taboos. Sexual liberation and universal love. But, above all, the metronome of an unprecedented creative explosion. Don’t forget that Lemmy Kilmister wrote the song “Motorhead” on a night off at the Riot House.
Today, Room 1015 remains a place of contemplation. The nostalgia of an era of absolute freedom, where the air still holds the lingering smells of sweat, leather, fur, alcohol, a burned patchouli leaf and an open flight case…
The Eagles sang “Hotel California,” with its supposed satanic undercurrents. There were certainly untamed demons in every hotel room from San Francisco to Las Vegas, from Hollywood to Venice Beach. But Room 1015 clearly outnumbered them all.
Fragrances from Room 1015
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Defer to the crowd
1172 reviews
Here's what our customers had to say about this product.
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- LLLACEY L.09/19/2024Reviews 1Products received 0Not my cup-o-teaAll I could smell was the incense. Absolutely nothing floral about this. It became a gift.00
- JVJuniper V.09/19/2024Reviews 8Products received 0StinkyI wouldn't even use this as a room spray, the notes are just not well balanced00
- MSMaura S.09/19/2024Reviews 1Products received 0AwfulThis is the weirdest, spiciest scent I have ever smelled. It’s terrible - I would not recommend and will not wear.00
- OBOwen B.09/18/2024Reviews 3Products received 0StrongStrong intense scent. Almost burnt wood profileMy ratingsWoodyClassicDate NightFallIntense00
- SSSophia S.09/18/2024Reviews 1Products received 0SpicyA little to spicy for me00
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Room 1015
Purple Mantra
scent world
featuring: Michael Partouche
Michael went from being a pharmacist by trade to being a
rocker by trade. He says the guitar was his salvation. At a
certain point he leaned into fragrance as a medium for
olfactive counterculture, a bridge between chemistry and art.
rocker by trade. He says the guitar was his salvation. At a
certain point he leaned into fragrance as a medium for
olfactive counterculture, a bridge between chemistry and art.