Cumming

Pine and bergamot arrive with a sharp, almost medicinal bite, undercut by black pepper's warmth and the woody burn of whiskey—Cumming opens like stepping into a highland distillery. The heart softens into something stranger: vinyl's synthetic plasticity threads through heathery florals and evergreen fir, while tobacco smoke curls beneath, grounding the sharpness. As it settles, peat dominates—earthy, almost mineral, like wet moss after rain—anchored by leather's dry grip and soil tincture that smells lived-in, ancient. What lingers is smoke-stained leather and the deep, loamy dark of peat settling into skin.