Opens on a bite of liquorice and star anise sharp enough to make you sit up, then walks straight into fougère country — lavender, geranium, hay — without ever settling there. What keeps its distance is the drydown: tobacco, patchouli and a touch of civet turn the whole thing warm and slightly dirty, closer to a cigar box than a barbershop.
Not enough price observations yet — check back soon.
On your Sniff List? We’ll track it when it lands.