Esprit du Roi Penhaligon's 2011

George Bryan Brummell - known as Beau Brummell - was famous for his hours-long grooming rituals, the imaginative tying of his countless neckties, and the instruction to his valet to polish his boots exclusively with champagne. He was the leading style icon of the early 19th century, a bon vivant and dandy - and probably the world's first It-boy. In a cavalry regiment, he became close friends with the Prince Regent (the later George IV), but fell out with the king and went into exile in France, never to return to Britain, even when the king earnestly begged for reconciliation.

A man of taste and distinction like Beau Brummell would choose a fragrance with understated self-assurance that is both sophisticated and light - one that offers refreshment yet character and is pleasant in company. It should not clash with his selected - though never extravagant or foppish - wardrobe, but rather be cheerful and wittily ironic. Penhaligon's or Monsieur Bertrand Duchaufour's Esprit du Roi - a creation from the early 80s revived a good thirty years later, is this perfume - one that even prominently carries the royal in its name.

It begins with an impressive freshness - one that goes far beyond the usual citrus notes that so many choose as an initial accord, both then and now. The mint gives a lively edge to the multi-faceted citrus chorus - akin to the flash of a rapier - and the bitter green of the tomato leaf lifts it of any remotely effeminate sweetness. Herbs, woods, and foliage press forward like tea leaves darkening clear water to a copper hue, giving it depth and character - yet it remains clear and translucent - just as tea remains translucent if no milk is added.

Esprit du Roi is not a light-hearted scent - and certainly not an arbitrary one. It has the self-confidence and opulence of the 80s, yet it is refined in its expression - refined, but not artificial. Beyond the zesty top note, it develops a nearly fougère-like crispness and edge, which is polished in every facet and has nothing random about it. Just as Beau Brummell would spend hours on his elaborate wardrobe, which never looked forced or strained, but rather aimed for charming nonchalance and a few small 'imperfections' - and he would forget them immediately upon leaving the house.

Conclusion: a rarely noticed gem in Penhaligon's back row. And today more special than ever.