Green Irish Tweed

The lemon verbena strikes first with a tart, almost lemony brightness that's immediately tempered by iris's cool, underground quality—like crushing green stems between your fingers whilst standing in a damp garden. There's a fleeting soapiness, clean without being generic, and a metallic edge that suggests rainwater rather than cologne.

Violet leaf emerges with its characteristic cucumber-like freshness, whilst santolina adds a quietly bitter, aromatic dimension that makes the whole thing feel less polite, more natural. The greenness here is at its most assertive—vegetal and alive, with the ambergris beginning to add a subtle salinity that hints at coastal air rather than beachside coconut.

The oakmoss and sandalwood finally have their say, creating a soft, woody-earthy base that's refined rather than robust. The green accords fade to a whisper, leaving behind a clean, slightly powdery musk with just enough maritime ambergris to keep it interesting, settling into something that smells expensive in an understated, old-money way.