By Night (White)

By Night (White) is a study in contradictions—a fragrance that pairs the crisp bite of Sicilian lemon and black pepper with a pillowy, almost narcotic floral heart, before collapsing into one of the most unabashedly powdery bases in contemporary perfumery. The opening suggests brightness, perhaps even freshness, but this is a feint; within minutes, that citrus sharpness becomes scaffolding for a heliotrope-vanilla accord so dense it feels almost edible. The floral notes—orange blossom, jasmine absolute, violet—don't bloom individually so much as meld into a single, creamy white floral blur, their indolic edges softened by tonka bean and benzoin until they're plush rather than piercing.

This is fragrance as comfort object, a scent for those who remember when powdery meant glamorous rather than dated. The coriander seed adds an oddly savoury undertone that prevents the composition from tipping into pure dessert territory, whilst the sandalwood provides just enough woody structure to anchor what might otherwise float away on clouds of white musk. There's something distinctly nocturnal about it—not dark or mysterious, but soft-focus and intimate, like catching the scent of face powder and vanilla extract on someone's skin as they lean close in low light. It's for the wearer who finds animalic ouds exhausting and wants something enveloping without aggression, something that whispers rather than announces. Think cashmere pyjamas, not sequined gowns.