Granville

Granville is Demachy's ode to the windswept Normandy coast where Christian Dior spent his childhood summers—and it smells precisely of that wild, salt-kissed landscape. The fragrance opens with a bracing citrus snap, lemon and mandarin oils that feel almost astringent in their freshness, before diving headlong into a remarkably literal interpretation of Mediterranean scrubland transplanted to northern shores. What makes this compelling is how the thyme and rosemary aren't dried or culinary; they're green-stemmed and resinous, practically dripping with essential oils as if you've crushed them between your fingers during a coastal hike. The pine adds an unexpected dimension, creating an aromatic triumvirate that's simultaneously herbal and coniferous, whilst black pepper provides a crackling, volatile edge that keeps the composition from becoming too soft or pretty.

The sandalwood base is subtle, more textural than overtly creamy, allowing those aromatic herbs to remain the star throughout the wear. This is decidedly not a polite fragrance—it's too green, too sharp, too unapologetically vegetal for conventional tastes. It suits someone who appreciates the austere beauty of wild landscapes, who'd rather smell like windblown herbs than vanilla comfort. Granville works brilliantly in cooler weather when its bracing character feels invigorating rather than jarring, particularly during countryside walks or grey-skied mornings when you need something to sharpen the senses. It's unisex in the truest sense: neither masculine nor feminine, just uncompromisingly itself.