As a child, I had a so-called "club jacket." A "club jacket," as I learned, was dark blue, had a collar similar to a blazer that could be folded over, and featured two round breast pockets at the bottom and square ones at the top. The breast pockets, the cuffs, and the jacket itself could be fastened with shiny buttons made of gleaming metal. My "club jacket" was hip-length and was only worn on festive occasions. Additionally, it had an embroidered crest in red, blue, and gold on a white background. I asked back then what kind of "club" it was, since a club to me was a gathering of people with some official commonality, like a sports club. To my disappointment, I learned that my jacket did not belong to any real club but was merely inspired by jackets from clubs. In the process, I also learned about the English gentlemen's clubs of the last century.
Later, I would get an impression of such gentlemen's clubs from various books, films, and series. Presumably, I did not get a realistic picture of club life from that time, but that did not stop me from vividly imagining what it would be like to belong to such a club. I knew that only men could be admitted to such a club, but I did not understand it. Thus, my imagination of what it would be like in such a club was automatically linked to the idea of what it would be like to be a man.
The scent of Source transports me into this old idea of being a member of an English club:
Bright, sour-smoky, Source is not initially to my liking. It seems to me like the most pleasant kind of incense, even though I don't particularly like incense, plus the peaty-sour flavor note of whiskey. I also don't particularly like whiskey for that reason. Nevertheless, the top note is quite bearable and okay for me, which I cannot say about many similar top notes. The reason is: everything here feels natural.
After just a few minutes, I can understand the library impression of Moincha: Yes, this is how old, dusty tomes can smell, whose leather bindings begin to dissolve sourly and strangely from the many hands that have touched them. However, the image of the library only lasts a very short time for me, as the scent now becomes sweet. A sweet-smoky mélange gradually forms, which is neither too smoky nor sweet in an edible sense, but rather how I imagine an old, soft leather armchair in my British club of the last century. Together with the whiskey, I now also see ancient, cracked leather armchairs and dark furniture in polished wood, with a tome or two on side tables.
There is smoking, but not excessively, and the cigarettes and cigarillos are of high quality. Whiskey is consumed, but again, not excessively, rather in a refined manner, and of course, the whiskey is also of good quality. Perhaps this club association is the reason why the scent radiates such a friendly calm, a slowing down in the best sense, a concentration on the essentials in times when one still had to write letters by hand, which perhaps even had to be taken by carriage to the harbor to be brought to their destination by ship. This slowness, this down-to-earth calm, frees me from any hustle and bustle of present-day life. I sink deep into my club chair.
A few hours later, the smoke is almost gone and the acidity has completely disappeared. What remains is sweetness, and a hint of powder begins to set in.
In the end, Source fades away pleasantly mild and slightly nutty, continuing to soothe with a touch of musk on wood.
Welcome to the club!
Top Notes 
Black pepper
Mandarin orange
Silent Cedar
Heart Notes 
Cypriol
Frankincense
Karmawood®
Oud
Praliné
Base Notes 
Amber
Benzoin
Musk
Sweetgrass
Cedrolemon
First
