If fragrance is a journey then here we have arrived. Savile Row, Sir?
And prey what could be more pleasurable than the reassuring odour of ones tailor’s saloon? In the heart of London’s bespoke finery: Mayfair, Palladian architecture, discretion. And so near to my Club!
Yes, indeed here we are on familiar territory. A fougère no less. The foundation stone of masculine perfumery. But just as a Britsh gent can be recognised by his ability to embrace the unfamiliar with panache, the detailing here comes from a surprise of beeswax and honey.
This is a three-piece suit of a fragrance, the eternal triumvirate of oakmoss, lavender and tonka-bean that masters complexity, to deliver simplicity. Perfection one care wear. A seamless weaving of violet leaf and leather, a harmonious pairing with amber and woods with an echo of hay, bitter almond and tobacco.
Because the point of tailoring is to feel good at all times. To be ready. To be at one’s best. Because just like The Help, presence and discretion are the order of the day.