Kashimire

Kashimire arrives as a declaration rather than a whisper—copaiba balsam and cashmere accord immediately establish a soft, resinous warmth that feels almost tactile, like wrapping yourself in fabric that's been sun-warmed. There's something deliberately fuzzy about this opening, a quality that suggests comfort without sacrifice of sophistication. The amber adds honeyed depth, anchoring what could have been an ephemeral cashmere fantasy into something with genuine presence.

What makes Kashimire compelling is how it refuses to play soft throughout. As the composition settles, sandalwood emerges with a creamy, almost talc-like character—note the crucial interplay here between the geranium's green-tinted spice and ylang ylang's indolic sweetness, which prevents the sandalwood from becoming merely pale and soothing. Instead, you're smelling a fragrance that balances powder and prickle, sweetness and subtle pepper. The vanilla doesn't arrive as gourmand overstatement but as a sweetening agent that softens the spicier edges whilst the labdanum and patchouli in the base add dark, almost leather-like undertones.