No. 5

The aldehydes detonate immediately—a fizzing, almost aggressive burst of abstract citrus-soap that's both clean and strangely fatty, like cold-pressed lemon oil meeting expensive tallow. Neroli and bergamot flicker through this electric haze, their natural brightness amplified into something nearly extraterrestrial, whilst ylang-ylang's banana-cream sweetness hovers at the edges, hinting at the opulence to come.

The floral heart arrives with substantial weight: jasmine and rose in their full, indolic glory, heady with that slightly animalic warmth that speaks to real absolutes rather than modern, scrubbed-clean synthetics. Iris powder and lily of the valley temper the richness with green, violet-tinged restraint, creating a push-pull between unabashed femininity and cool sophistication that never quite resolves—and that's precisely the point.

The base settles into a warm, musky-vanilla softness where sandalwood and amber blur into skin, leaving a powdery, slightly sweet veil that's more intimate than the grand opening suggested. Vetiver provides a subtle earthiness that keeps the vanilla from becoming dessert-like, whilst musk hums underneath it all, creating that elusive "your skin but better" finish that lingers on coat collars and pillowcases long after you've left the room.