Le Feu d'Issey Light

The bergamot-aniseed combination strikes immediately with licorice brightness, but mahogany and coconut muddy the waters deliberately—this isn't clean citrus, it's woody and slightly creamy from the outset, refusing clarity. There's an unsettling sweetness that doesn't feel quite like gourmand; instead, it's aromatic and almost medicinal, as though you've just opened an apothecary jar.

Milk arrives like cream poured into tea, instantly softening the spice as rose and jasmine become ghostly florals beneath the powdery-green hydrangea. Caramel surfaces not as a sweet note but as something almost resinous and dry, creating a strange powdery-gourmand tension that feels both comforting and intellectually challenging—the fragrance becomes genuinely interesting here, shedding its opening's woody confusion.

Cedar and gaiac wood dominate with a dry, almost medicinal warmth, whilst vanilla and amber remain restrained, never cloying. The musk and sandalwood create a creamy-dry skin scent that becomes increasingly intimate, smelling more like personal warmth than projection—by hour four, it's barely discernible beyond an arm's length, a veil rather than an announcement.