It is at first a Violet Leaf, green and watery; shady; growing alone under a carpet of immaculate snow. Images of Czars wrapped in furs, of the burnished coldness of a multicoloured taiga full with the slightly sweet, powdery scent of imaginary Violet flowers.

Then it becomes a leather, neither animalic, nor aggressive but polished, but varnished. An abundant atmosphere of heavy fabrics, of cold tobacco, of peaty and ambery Javanese Vetiver; and aged spirits evaporating in crystal glasses.

All that remains is the pyrogenic smell of Cade, of logs and ashes and coal, sleeping in the silent heart; an incomparably vast and heavy yet sophisticated sillage.

A woody and leathery interpretation of early dandyism, Portrayal Man exudes a sheer masculine flair and a lofty, unforgiving audacity.