Shingl

Xerjoff's Shingl arrives as a peculiar contradiction—a fragrance that positions itself as unisex yet feels decidedly masculine in its construction, though not in any conventional way. Christian Rostain has crafted something deliberately skewed, where the floral accord (100%) should theoretically soften what comes next, yet instead the aniseed and basil in the opening create an almost medicinal herbaceousness that wrestles with the iris and patchouli in the heart. This is no graceful floral. The rum note feels almost fermented, adding a boozy warmth that prevents any powdery delicacy from taking hold, whilst the vetiver grounds everything in earthy dryness.

The character is restless, slightly unsettled. Shingl wears like someone who's deliberately chosen something slightly off-kilter—who prefers their fragrances to have rough edges rather than smooth transitions. There's a spiced sweetness (76% sweet accord, 88% spicy) that prevents this from becoming austere, but the vanilla and ambergris base refuse to coddle. Instead, they anchor an almost tobacco-leaf quality that emerges once you stop paying attention to what's in the bottle and simply exist with what's on your skin.