Herod

Herod is an olfactory portrait of a man who reads Baudelaire in a leather wing chair whilst pipe smoke curls towards mahogany bookshelves. Olivier Polge has crafted something that feels simultaneously Victorian and entirely modern—a tobacco composition that bypasses the stale ashtray trope entirely in favour of something plush, resinous, and unapologetically sensual. The cinnamon here isn't your Christmas biscuit sweetness; it's the bark itself, woody and slightly medicinal, colliding with pepper to create an opening that prickles at the nose before softening into something far more inviting. What makes Herod genuinely compelling is the interplay between osmanthus and tobacco leaf—the former lending an apricot-suede quality that stops the latter from becoming too linear or predictable. The incense weaves through the composition like sandalwood's smokier cousin, adding a ceremonial weight without tipping into church territory. Then there's that base: vanilla and tonka bean could have rendered this a sweet shop disaster, but the vetiver and cedarwood provide just enough earthiness to keep things balanced on the edge of decadence without tumbling over. This is a fragrance for the man who wants to smell expensively groomed without smelling clean—worn to evening engagements where the lighting is low and the conversation substantial. It's got the performance to match its price tag: robust sillage that announces you before you round the corner, and longevity that lingers on shirt collars until the next wash.