When incensed, he breathes fire.

The World According To Arthur

Brother of Lord George, Arthur sheaths his silver spoon like a sword. You can take a man out of Eton, but can you take Eton out of the man? A sharp-tongued savant, words are best cloaked in sage wisdom and wit. ​

​A stint East will do anybody good. But have his lips been loosened, his Stoic philosophy sweetened? What secrets does his gilded and wandering mind hoard? ​

​Such yarns of silken wisdom can only form under those Mulberry trees, where books became blankets and ideas puffed up like pillows. So, unbind his ambling anthology – Matthew, no Peking! – trawl through his travelling tales. Peel back the layers of Mandarin poetry, the Cantonese concatenations and you reveal… The truth.​

We all know what happened the last time George encountered the Dragon… Who knows if the round tables have turned? Will we see a flash of fiery temper – a melee of incensed chaos – now that the favoured brother has returned? Or, simply a fresh face, warm handshake and – “Brother! Long time, no see.”

2022

Mischief. Majesty. Musk.

The Favourite

The stage is set, the setting is Blenheim. The story concerns the mother of this majestic Palace.   

Her scent fills the Royal dressing room, her influence spans to the infinite, golden mimosa sways society’s opinion. She greets with a darling smile, charming and coy, innocent as a wildflower. Yet, layers peel away like mandarin and bergamot. A revelation, we draw nearer to one’s true intention – a hidden agenda? Did we forget to mention? – complexity mistaken for cunning. A breath-taking façade. An interior unseen. Because what you see isn’t always what you get. 

Smoke and mirrors. Iris and musk. Manoeuvres and mystery create the most wonderful of palaces. What goes on in the shadows? Behind closed doors? She orchestrates the most grandiose of displays, conducts society and manipulates her milieu. Leave it to her, it’s better that way. Jasmine toys with one’s heartstrings as she begins to emerge upon a sandalwood stage. 

2020

Fasten your seatbelts.

Sports Car Club

Hail the weekend, flail the flag! We’re off to a place where hearts race and heads spin.​

City lights speed out of sight, a careening convoy collides with the darkness of country roads. A cloud of smoke and fancy, a choir of rumbles, grumbles and Bright Young mumbles. ​

Hairpins sharper than pink pepper. Pine smoother than leather. Cocktails stronger than pleasure. A driveway presents itself; the passengers brace themselves – Decency, discard yourself – as eucalyptus roars over freshly cut grass towards the manor. A glorified garage where the fuelling station’s a bar and the best motors, like lights, are green. It’s all helmets and hedonism. Amber and grandeur. Patchouli and podiums. ​

There’s a reputation here for changing gears, positions, and opinions. Enthusiasms rise from nought to fraught in under half a spritz. Sighs of boredom are oh-so à la mode but, make no mistake, life never drags in a shower of Champagne. And minds never drift when you’re spinning into Cypress.

Buck up, buckle up, here’s something to get your pluck up – Penhaligon’s Sports Car Club has rolled into town. 

2022

What mysteries lie untold?

Babylon

Welcome to a land of lost knowledge, a fallen civilization where mystery hangs in the air. How lucky are we who’ve stumbled upon this crafted garden? An oasis of greenery quite unlike any other; a horticultural melting pot, flourishing on a land’s utopian terroir. Uncommon ingredients grow tangled betwixt this unknown world. Nutmeg and Cypriol. Towering trees of sandal and cedar. Vines of vanilla hang overhead, as coriander and saffron, redolent of gold, are scattered all about.​

No longer need you wonder. We can’t conceal a scent that outshines the glory of the divine. Babylon is the place, and the perfume is Babylon.​

2021