Haze is the aromatic fog of a Bohemian café, where the lurid green fairy of absinthe mingles with the sage-bush dryness of an illicit spliff. But surprisingly, before it is all this, it is a whirlwind brush with a kitchen garden after a downpour, a riotous vortex of crushed mint, snapped plant stems, and the herbal dewiness of clary sage. It smells like fresh lavender buds and wet soil, a winning mixture of sun-warmed herbs and the cool dampness of a spring shower.
Deeply herbal and green, Haze slowly starts to dry out to the bittersweet, grassy smokiness that will later define it as a creature of the night. A boozy artemisia note adds that anisic, Pernod-like twang that still, years after absinthe was made legal again, feels quite naughty. The impression of marijuana is there, but subtly so, and certainly not enough to get you pulled over by the police. A softly smoky leather accent in the base ties it all together – pulling the scent from bright, wet, sunlit kitchen herbs to poetry reading in a Parisian café in one easy, fluid arc. Sexy in a casually-tousled way, Haze is for those who like fresh and aromatic, but done with an irreverent twist.
