The Impudent Cousin Matthew Penhaligon's 2019

"I immediately noticed, this is a pressure pain when you press it." (Lothar Matthäus)
There are truths in life that hardly lack a certain logic. This is often similar with seemingly simply constructed fragrances, like those from the Portraits series: You get what it says on the label, and you can clearly identify the individual components. "I always liked simple songs," I quoted John Lennon for "Radcliff" from the same series. This also partially applies to "Matthew," but when it comes to the logic and recognizability in the composition of the components, and especially its endurance, it somehow fails to truly convince me. It doesn't really touch me. "The problem with Matthew seems to be just a problem of place and time [...]," begins the official characterization at Penhaligon's. I would reduce the sentence to: "The problem with Matthew is time."
The opening is furious. The duet of mandarin and petitgrain is delightful; here, the leaves, twigs, and unripe fruits of the bitter orange seem to be dominant, while the mandarin adds at best a hint of lemon pulp, and the whole thing feels creamy. It's British and noble and indeed a bit youthful nonchalant. Within the first hour, this initially strong citrus impression in terms of sillage turns more into a vetiver-like green. The leaves and twigs seem to take command. Far off, I believe I am hallucinating a slightly leathery hint; I attribute this to a certain similarity to "Agua Fresca Vetiver" in this phase. And then, after about two to three more hours, the boy with the duck head runs out of steam. That is truly cheeky. Wasn't there something with patch as a base? Unfortunately, not at all for me. But even if it was only used as a fixative here, it hasn't done a sustainably good job.
That would all be fine and good, but not for the price. This then triggers a pressure pain every time you press the spray head.