Avant Garde

Avant garde boots made of perforated cordovan on your feet. You smelled the veg tanning, the glue, the fibers that made every strobel stitch and Goodyear welt, you smell the cork. And then you forget only to be reminded when you cross your legs in that meeting or when you take a knee to tie your waxed cotton shoelace, and finally when you get home and take those boots off. Carrying the warmth the day and amplified by the merino will socks you wore, this is my experience of this fragrance and I find it glorious. At first present and then it lets you carry on with your day, but it occasionally gives you the cheeky reminder.