Erémia
Aesop (2021)

So strange. Last autumn I didn't like it and I wrote "Patchouli and galbanum are all I feel, after the first citrus whiff. A leathery scent, in my book. Very dark and wintery." Now, in May, it smells marvellous. Balsamic, a tad sweet but not cloying, I am buying myself a bottle. Strange how things change.

This is the way to do a cologne – a citrus chorus for uplift, a little lie-down in a bed of fresh herbs, and the most downy and bosky iris note mellowing everything out. Erémia feels completely natural and unforced, the powders of mimosa and iris at its centre seem to have nothing by way of artifice about them, and yet there’s a luxurious, polished quality, too. It’s a kind of agrestic garden where the planting gives way at the edges to open fields and distant glades – but viewed from the salon. Lovely stuff, though Aesop’s steep pricing seems totally uncalled for, especially as the thing performs at cologne strength.