I’ve had my sample of Chêne for a little while now, but have been keeping it “on ice” for a day lacking in natural inspiration. Lightning struck: I’ve just started a fantastic new book which hits me in all the right places (darkness, hilarity, perfume, metal)… Here, it’s better if you just have a taste:
Thirty hours later, my luggage was parked in a fleabag hotel on the Lower West Side, I was wiping my sweaty palms on my skirt, pulling at my suede boots and trying to forget a bra strap was slowly but surely sliding down my left shoulder. I should have worn something else besides Chêne, something safe and innocuous and familiar, but Chêne was my invisible armor. Uncle Serge would not let me down, not at his prices he wouldn’t.
You can’t read a paragraph like that, and not go running for your sample of Chêne.
I carefully dab it on the back of my hand, and before I can ask, “where’s my coffee?” am transported to another age. Oak logs are being stripped, torn, stacked. The men of the land labor to build ramparts around their growing village, and the man directing these labors will one day be their king— but not yet. Women and children help too, clearing and hauling, leading oxen whose carts are laden with fresh logs. They are a quiet folk; toiling in soil by day, crouching around hearth fires by night, living close enough to the forest to fear attack by both bandit and beast. As I stand by watching, a sweet mingling of their odors rises on a draft. I close my eyes and inhale deeply.
Notes: cedar crystals, wood sap, black thyme, oak, immortelle, beeswax, silver birch, rum absolute and tonka bean
Top image from “Pillars of the Earth,” Photo of Tree Knot is mine.