Her Skin

A winter farmer's market. A girl with half her face buried in a huge cloud of spun sugar on a stick, cheeks flushed rosy by the cold, tucked into a warm cashmere hoodie. That single remembered scene is the subject of Her Skin.

Candy floss gives an airy sweetness, sugar spun so light it seems to be mostly air. Peony and rose take that sweetness beyond the market stall, toward the color in cold cheeks and a fresh floral brightness. Peony's lightness softens the fuller rose and brings it closer to the candy.

Patchouli and musk catch the sugar and petals with an earthy depth and the warmth of skin. As the name suggests, where it lands is neither a sweet shop nor a bouquet, but the warmth inside the hood.