
NOT A FRAGRANCE.
F**KING PERMISSION.
Raw animalic musks. Tobacco. Leather.
Designed to react to your heat, your hunger, your chemistry.
No two nights smell the same.
Some things don't ask permission.
DB01 is one of them.
It opens like a decision already made. Metallic citrus. Herbaceous and precise. The kind of clarity that walks into a room and changes the temperature before anyone understands why.
Then your skin gets involved.
And everything becomes something else entirely.

