Turning heads comes oh-so naturally to you, and why wouldn’t it? You’ve been doing since you were knee high. Well-heeled with a winning charisma and rather fetching to boot. The life of the party and your scent enlivens a room with an unmistakable charm. Who wants to fit in when you’re having this much fun sticking out? You’re partial to a gin – the only fitting tonic – though you’re more than willing to break tradition when it comes to a garish garnish. Something citrussy? Perhaps. Elderflower? So overdone, darling. Ah, yes, basil.
Gifts To Cause A Stir
We all have our own definition of the perfect gift. But there’s little debate as to where it will be found. Why, Penhaligon’s of course. Consider these fragrances, won’t you? Your recipient will be delighted, no matter how they take their gifts.
A warm Mediterranean breeze bears the scent of orange blossom down a hillside. Neroli spills sun-born freshness; a smile spreads involuntarily across one’s face. Spanish summer, in an eau de toilette.
Wide-eyed innocent Flora has everyone foxed. Beneath her sweet exterior lies a surprisingly strong twist of mischief. Effusive, ebullient, fresh, Flora’s perfume is citrus sip of invigoration.
Matthew is never far from trouble-the naughty to his sister's nice. His eau de parfum reveals an unexpected pedigree, as fresh, sparkling mandarin strides gallantly forth from woody depths.
What-ho! As dry and fresh as the best gin – or the best of British humour. Lemon, black pepper and pine. This eau de toilette was first created for the Duke of Marlborough, and by jove it shows.
A cologne of some sophistication, named for the iconic English oak. Basil and lemon as fresh as a mountain stream, sweet jasmine, and a woody, mossy depth that brings one happily back to earth.
I say, Mr Penhaligon himself! He enters in a vetiver haze – warm, fresh and earthy. With a scent this good, there’s no wonder he’s the only trusted perfumer of High Society’s ladies and gents.
This Hand Will Win Their Heart
Discover Gifting
The sun shrouds the senses in a haze of tuberose. Winds cradle heady white flowers – intoxicated by warmth, succoured by spice. A sensual candle plucked straight from the heart of perfumed islands.
Foliage creeps up the lost garden to stir the night sky. Earthy ivy. Luscious fruits. Soft flowers and softer woods. A scented candle that’s all smoke and mirrors. Paradise never smelled so sweet.
