Full-size bottle
· 15 products left
$155
3.4 oz
Room 1015 - Sweet Leaf
4:20 am, still on the road.
The sun, as pink as GRAPEFRUIT, is melting on the turquoise horizon. It’s dripping slowly on the blue concrete under your wheels. These purple trees along the road, they wave their leaves like old friends. Red EUCALYPTUS tentacles are sucking up the last drops of the dawn. The whiffs of dreamy JASMINE clouds and CANNABIS floating all around. The green ANGELICA on orange sand looks so unreal...The Universe rolled in a piece of thin white paper, and you’re behind the wheel. Sweet Leaf — the scent of a colourful trip with no destination.
The sun, as pink as GRAPEFRUIT, is melting on the turquoise horizon. It’s dripping slowly on the blue concrete under your wheels. These purple trees along the road, they wave their leaves like old friends. Red EUCALYPTUS tentacles are sucking up the last drops of the dawn. The whiffs of dreamy JASMINE clouds and CANNABIS floating all around. The green ANGELICA on orange sand looks so unreal...The Universe rolled in a piece of thin white paper, and you’re behind the wheel. Sweet Leaf — the scent of a colourful trip with no destination.
Stop and smell these
Featured notes
Learn more about the top, middle, and bottom notes in this fragrance.
Explore all notes
But don't just take our word for it
Here's how others described
the scent
the scent
The Scentbird community has spoken, and this is how reviewers categorized this scent.
- Strong47%
- Fresh20%
- Warm17%
- Light7%
- Sweet5%
- Powdery2%
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
In good company
People who loved Sweet Leaf also like
Defer to the crowd
6092 reviews
Here's what our customers had to say about this product.
Filter reviews
- DSDakota S.11/02/2024Reviews 3Products received 0Strong smellIt does smell great but the cannabis is a bit over powering00
- FLFreedom L.11/02/2024Reviews 1Products received 0Sweet leafThe notes were more organic than im used to… smells more like oregano than cannabis lbs. Ill see if it grows on me but im not sure it meshes well with my body chemistry. It smells like whiskey mixed with spices. I only liked it cause the case was brown like a blunt wrap lolMy ratingsSpicyMysteriousPartyFallStrongRefined00
- DSDaequan S.11/02/2024Reviews 2Products received 0Never againSmells like straight pepper00
- JEJONATHAN E.11/01/2024Reviews 2Products received 0very nicecasual sweet and yummy00
- ktkyle t.10/31/2024Reviews 1Products received 0never again buyhonestly it stinks10
- DSDaequan S.11/02/2024Smells like pepper
Explore new arrivals
Room 1015
Sweet Leaf