My memories of England are fond ones: sitting in a hotel lobby at two and a half years old, playing with a toy double-decker bus and a London cab while waiting for my folks to check in (which incidentally is also my very first memory, period). Then at ten years old, peering through Cornish morning fog so thick I couldn't see my hand in front of my face. Visiting the apartment of Sherlock Holmes. Seeing the Queen open a police station in a London park. Fighting with my brother in the backseat of the car. Good times.
Nineties England was a land of wilted empire, its citizens proud and rather nationalistic, its weather glorious and catastrophic, its food abysmal. The country is known for its stiff and unadventurous perfumes, with esteemed houses like ye olde Truefitt & Hill, Floris, Penhaligon's, Trumper, and Pecksniff's offering a slew of proper things. I approach them gingerly and with the expectation that my teeth could wind up crooked and my wardrobe flush with floral-print dresses. To meet British standards, they must be quietly manly and forgettable. I didn't think I'd like Pecksniff's "Professional" scent, with its bought title of Lemon, Cedar, Amber. But my colonial nose does not deceive me - I fancy it! It smells very cheap, but nice. I'm interested in other Pecksniff's fare now, which is a surprise.
There isn't much lemon detectable in the mix, no citrus aldehyde, although I do get the slimmest curl of woody rind behind the actual wood notes. There are also no top notes to speak of; the fragrance falls victim to an alarming blast of blatant alcohol in the first five seconds, which is usually a sign of bad tidings. Fortunately a robust accord of cedar with a touch of sandalwood emerges, and this one-note cedar carries on for a few hours before thinning into a discreet woody amber. It's very dry, and there's no sweetness to be found. It's perfect for after a shave, and pairs nicely with Clubman Classic Vanilla.
Dull as the fragrance is, its cedar note is so nicely rendered that I can't help but enjoy it. Good cedar smells rich and rounded and not at all like pencil shavings, and Pecksniff's manages to hit close to the bullseye with minimal effort. Rather than blow his wad on unnecessary notes, the perfumer poured his rather limited resources into a single easy note, and the result is something that smells simple but quite good. I'm reminded of Krizia Uomo whenever I wear it, which is a compliment to the nose. Oh, and due to a sale, I paid $6 for 3.3 ounces, my nod to the Scots.