L'Iris

The neroli arrives with a crisp, almost bracing luminosity, immediately joined by that distinctive galbanum greenness—like crushed lily stems and sun-warmed grass—whilst the Sichuan pepper adds a subtle numbing spice that tingles rather than burns. Within thirty seconds, you've already understood this fragrance's minimalist intent.

Jasmine sambac softens the edges without surrendering the green core; champaca flower adds a honeyed, almost fruity warmth that plays beautifully against the geranium's peppery dryness. The powdery accords bloom here, creating an almost cosmetic softness that feels like wearing vintage cashmere—expensive and slightly nostalgic.

The iris absolute finally takes command, revealing itself as the true skeleton of the composition—that pale, root-like dryness settles into skin like talcum and old paper. Musk and ambergris create a subtle, almost transparent halo rather than a heavy base, leaving behind something closer to a skin scent than a fragrance; intimate and faintly powdered.