I Stopped Matching Scents to Seasons
At some point, I stopped assigning fragrances to weather. What once felt “too heavy” for summer became comforting. What felt “too fresh” for winter suddenly made perfect sense in a grey room.
Like these four by Jorum Studio—I couldn’t tell you which season they belong to anymore. I just wear them when the moment asks.
🪨 Monolith: Bought midwinter, loved in July. Peaty whisky, black coffee, and smoked wood—like bumping into a cigar-smoking Victorian gentleman in a mill, who somehow smells kind. Despite its dense base, it’s never cloying. In an AC-cooled car, it’s a gentle intoxication.
🌿 Paradisi: My go-to for being unknowingly captivating. A friend hugged me in Paris and wouldn’t stop asking what I was wearing. Rooty green, a little damp, a little flirty. Like Manet’s Luncheon on the Grass, if the girl in the painting smiled back.
🍊 Pony Boy: Opened like a grapefruit explosion, but dried down to something like citrusy hay. Sweet without being syrupy. A cologne that feels like youth on horseback—sticky fruit juice and sunlight.
🧊 Spirit Cask: Took me six months to find. Boozy, minty, tobacco-warm. My work scent of choice—fresh enough to sharpen my brain, soft enough to slow my pace.
Who says summer can’t smell like whisky, or winter like cut grass?
#beauty #fragrance #ScentWithoutSeasons
