Hermann à mes Côtés me Paraissait une Ombre

By the editors · 2 min readThe opening reads like a riddle—tart black currant pressed against vegetal galbanum, a contrast that feels both lush and austere. There's an immediate tension here, fruit sharpened by green bitterness, as if sweetness is being deliberately withheld.

As the incense emerges, the fragrance darkens into something more contemplative. Olibanum casts a resinous veil over the composition, smoothing the edges without erasing them. The vetiver and patchouli anchor it firmly in earth, while ambroxan adds a skin-close luminosity that keeps it from feeling heavy or overtly mystical.

This is fragrance as meditation rather than declaration—shadowy, abstract, quietly intense. It suits those who prefer perfumes that don't announce themselves immediately, who appreciate the interplay between transparent and opaque. The literary reference in its title proves apt: it's less about what you see than what lingers just beyond your grasp.