Odin New York
A unique visual signature based on accords, character, and seasonality
Black pepper and ginger detonate simultaneously, all nasal heat and zinging brightness, while bitter orange contributes only its rind—no sweetness, just citrus oil and pith. The effect is almost aggressively spicy, like crushing peppercorns under your palm and inhaling deeply. Within minutes, frankincense begins its cold, churchy smoke, tempering the heat without extinguishing it.
Guaiac wood takes centre stage with its distinctive tarry, medicinal character, smelling of old wooden railway sleepers and therapeutic ointments. The frankincense intensifies its resinous grip, whilst nutmeg adds an oily, almost numbing quality rather than warmth. This phase is where Tanoke feels most itself—smoky, woody, uncompromising, with the spices now serving as texture rather than punctuation.
Black musk and patchouli create a base that's earthy in the literal sense—soil, bark, decomposing wood. The sequoia contributes a pencil-shaving dryness that keeps everything austere, never allowing the patchouli to turn sweet or the musk to go animalic. What remains is a woody skin scent that's more forest floor than fragrant timber, stubbornly ascetic until the end.
Tanoke is a study in controlled smoke and spice, where Corinne Cachen has orchestrated a fragrance that feels like standing downwind of a bonfire in the Pacific Northwest. The opening wastes no time—black pepper and ginger crack against bitter orange peel, creating an immediate heat that's more camphor-sharp than sweet. This isn't polite spice; it's the kind that makes your sinuses flare. Frankincense drifts through the heart with that particular cold-smoke quality, meeting guaiac wood's creosote-like medicinal edge. The nutmeg here doesn't read as kitchen spice but rather as something darker, oilier, adding to the resinous thickness that begins to dominate.
What makes Tanoke compelling is its refusal to soften. The sequoia and black musk in the base don't offer comfort—they double down on the astringent, almost antiseptic quality that guaiac introduces. Patchouli appears not as the hippie favourite but as dark, damp earth, the kind you'd find beneath fallen logs. This is a fragrance for those who find typical "woody" scents too polished, too obviously expensive. It's got grit under its fingernails.
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3.9/5 (312)