The Story
Why it exists.
The beginning
Black Licorice was released by Ayala Moriel in 2002 as a seasonal fragrance for Halloween, a standing part of the collection that arrives when the nights turn. The perfumer, Ayala Sender (also known as Ayala Moriel), built it around the peculiar duality of black licorice: the way it reconciles spicy warmth with minty cool, rough dryness with a smooth, mouthwatering sweetness that pulls you back bite after bite. She didn't try to soften that tension. She leaned into it. The result is a fragrance that wears its inspiration honestly, sticky, fragrant, and impossible to mistake for anything else on the shelf.
What makes Black Licorice unusual is how faithfully it reproduces the sensory experience of the candy rather than just borrowing its name. Star anise and aniseed deliver the cold, green, almost medicinal first note that defines real licorice root, not the sweet red ropes that line convenience store shelves, but the black ones that demand something of you. Blackcurrant bud adds a dark, tart berry nuance that keeps the opening from going flat, and the honey absolute thickens the heart into something warm and almost edible without turning the fragrance into a dessert.
The evolution
The opening hits cold and green, a sharp anise note that arrives before you've even finished spraying. It lingers here longer than most top notes, five, maybe ten minutes of that distinctive licorice bite, prickling the air around you. Then the honey and rose push through, sweeter than expected, rounding the edges without erasing the sharpness entirely. Ylang-ylang adds a lush, slightly narcotic floral depth underneath. The drydown is where the tarragon earns its place, an herbal, slightly bitter quality that cuts through the vanilla sweetness and keeps the whole composition from collapsing into something too comfortable. The patchouli anchors it low and dark. On skin, expect moderate presence that requires leaning in, long enough to be worth it.
Cultural impact
Black Licorice occupies an unusual position in the niche fragrance landscape: a seasonal scent, conceived around a single confectionery idea, that has remained in production since its 2002 launch. It appeals to a specific kind of wearer, someone who remembers black licorice candy and wants to wear that memory rather than replicate it. Among Ayala Moriel's catalogue, it stands apart not because it represents any particular landscape but because it translates a flavor into feeling, the sticky, sweet-salty pull of something that demands a second bite.
