Cèdre-Serge Lutens.

Spray yourself with a big tuberose perfume of the 80’s (Giorgio, Carolina Herrera, Fred Hayman 273, first-edition Chloe). Then go out for a night of absolute debauchery. Smoking, drinking, dancing, fucking, fighting, getting lost in bad parts of town, pissing yourself, shitting yourself, vomiting, and finally collapsing, still dressed, into a fleabag motel at dawn. When you wake up, bleary-eyed and covered in myriad bodily fluids, you will smell like Cèdre. Totally filthy, indolic and unpresentable and appropriate only in the tiniest doses, if ever. Govern yourself accordingly.


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