Realism

Realism opens with a spray of fresh-cut grass and herbal brightness, sunlit and immediate, before settling into a green, slightly earthy heart where crushed flower petals meet the mineral tang of soil. There's an almost damp grass-clipping quality here—alive, root-level. The base exhales hay and cedar, grounding everything in warm, dry wood and the smell of a barn in late afternoon. It reads less perfume than presence: sensed rather than announced.