As rich westerners fuel demand for the ancient fragrance, a lucrative race for the resin is killing the trees but leaving little of the trade’s profit for those gathering it
In a corner of Covent Garden, well-heeled Londoners and tourists browse the range of frankincense products sold by a leading cosmetics brand while they drink a complimentary rose and berry tea. Amid the aromatic resin sheathed under glass, shoppers can buy “age-defying” serums, creams and essences, and tablets to strengthen brittle nails and hair.
At one counter, a sales assistant is advising customers on how much of the essential oil to add to their nebuliser to make guests feel relaxed “without overwhelming them”. Another explains frankincense’s “hydrating and rejuvenating” properties, including its alleged ability to smooth out fine lines caused by smiling and squinting. In terms of popularity, she says, it now far outstrips lavender, tea tree and other botanicals.
