Le Parfum de Thérèse

That melon-cucumber pairing hits like biting into chilled honeydew with soil still clinging to the rind—green, wet, almost disconcertingly savoury. The plum emerges within minutes, adding a jammy sweetness that feels heavy against the aqueous opening, creating an immediate tension between ripe fruit and bitter green. There's an herbal sharpness threading through, something between crushed leaves and white pepper.

The florals finally assert themselves but refuse to behave: jasmine reads more green and indolic than white-petalled, whilst the rose smells of thorns and sap rather than romantic velvet. That fruity opening persists as a sweet undertone, now tempered by increasingly prominent spice and the first whispers of leather—soft, almost powdery suede rather than anything animalic. The composition thickens, becoming rounder and more resinous as patchouli begins its slow creep from the base.

What remains is predominantly earthy: vetiver's bitter, smoky rootiness wrapped in blonde leather that's gone slightly salty on the skin. The patchouli provides dark, chocolate-tinged depth without ever smelling headshop musty, whilst ghostly traces of that initial fruit sweetness linger at the edges like memory. It sits close, intimate and skin-like, the wood and leather accord achieving that rare quality of smelling simultaneously lived-in and refined.