It’s 3am and she’s in four-inch stilettos, sauntering home in perfect déshabillé chic wearing a silk charmeuse gown, draped in vintage fur, and smoking a cigarette without a care in the world who sees… and Night Flower would be the perfume she’d wear. She’s not meek or overly polite, and she likes her perfume like she lives her life: headstrong, decadent, and never prim and proper. A creamy tuberose is her fragrant weapon of choice, a sultry white blossom scent that’s been a narcotic muse in perfumery for time immemorial. In Night Flower, it’s sweet and buttery, contemporary and decidedly non-cloying, its larger-than-life-ness tethered by the gourmand scents of peppery-citrus bergamot, spicy-sweet cardamom, dry cinnamon, and a vanilla-esque tonka bean. A smoldering, almost leathery birch tar enhanced with soft suede is woven throughout, giving fair warning that this femme fatale of a perfume is anything but predictable or tame.