The Story
Why it exists.
The beginning
Jill McKeever created 1993 as a sensory memory of an era. The early 90s underground, where patchouli smoke hung in basements, incense burned in head shops, and counterculture meant something real. For Strange Women built its identity on botanical perfumery, and this fragrance is an extension of that philosophy: using natural materials to recreate a feeling, not just a smell. The cola note is the bridge between nostalgia and subversion, sweet, familiar, yet slightly wrong in the best way. It's an aromatic interpretation of that particular moment when everything felt uncertain and possible at the same time.
What makes 1993 work is the unlikely combination: cola's sweet warmth against patchouli's earthy depth. The two shouldn't balance each other, but they do, and the burnt match note is what keeps everything grounded. Saffron adds a quiet complexity that rewards close attention, while amber prevents the whole composition from tipping into something gimmicky. This isn't a novelty fragrance. It's an artistic statement about what the 90s felt like, the contradictions, the searching, the sense that something was about to change. The materials do the heavy lifting: Indonesian patchouli's depth, saffron's spice, teakwood's warmth. Natural ingredients creating an unnatural mood.
The evolution
The opening hits bright and sweet, cola and amber arriving together like a carbonated drink poured over warm wood. There's a fizz to it, something almost effervescent, before the sweetness settles and becomes intimate. Within 30 minutes, teakwood and patchouli take over. The cola doesn't disappear, it becomes part of the landscape, warm and present, while the burnt match note threads through adding a smoky edge. The heart phase is earthy, slightly sweet, with saffron emerging quietly in the background. By hour two, the drydown settles into something darker. Patchouli and saffron linger longest, staying close to the skin like a memory of the room you just left. The cola fades but the earthiness and warmth remain for hours, on fabric, it can last until the next day. The final hours smell like sweetened patchouli, resinous and quiet, the sweetness almost gone but the warmth still there.
Cultural impact
1993 sparked conversation in independent fragrance communities, the kind of scent that either compels or repels on first encounter. Those drawn to it tend to be looking for something that defies easy categorization, an artistic statement that rewards attention rather than immediate approval. The cola note became a focal point of discussion: some found it captured something specific about the era's mood, others remained skeptical about whether the concept delivered. What made the conversation interesting was the focus on execution, does it actually work as a fragrance? That question, ultimately, is the right one.
