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The Story
Biting into a ripe pear in the middle of a flowering garden.
An afternoon at the height of summer, the watering done. Light, air and nectar run into one another. Leaves let go of their green smell into warm air, fruit comes off the branch, and there is damp soil, crushed stem and the sparkle of a chilled drink in among the flowers.
The fruit stays translucent rather than syrupy. Pear and cassis blossom hang in the air more than they land, charged bright by pink pepper. May rose opens into the centre of it, cooled by violet leaf and cut across by an unexpected current of spearmint, so the flowers read as living rather than picked. As the brightness goes, iris root lays down a dry powder, softened by sandalwood and by the warm skin-like character of ambrette.
The Notes
The Perfumer
The Brand
























