The Darker Brother of Comme De Garcon's Hinoki

As a man in my 30s with a growing collection of around 20 niche fragrances, I’ve developed a strong affinity for photorealistic compositions—scents that conjure clear, vivid landscapes. I gravitate toward woody, green florals with a minimalist structure, favouring those that unfold with clarity rather than complexity. Cedar is my anchor note, and I’m always hunting for something grounded yet transportive. This summer, I set out to find a fragrance with a camphorous, eucalyptus-tinged top—something cooling and meditative. That search led me to Aesop’s Hwyl. I’ll admit, part of my interest came from comparisons to Comme des Garçons’ Hinoki, which I had sampled and enjoyed for its bracing, onsen-like opening—cool, herbal, and invigorating, like stepping into a cedar-lined bathhouse carved into a hillside forest. Hwyl, by contrast, felt more muted and introspective from the outset. It opens with a smoky, slightly medicinal whisper of incense, tempered by a murky green resinous note that never quite sharpens or lifts. There’s a damp, almost fungal quality—interesting, but never uplifting. Longevity is where Hwyl excels. It lingers for hours with a steady, smouldering base of cypress, moss, and dry woods. But whereas Hinoki felt spiritual and centring—a breath of cool clarity—Hwyl comes across as flatter, more solemn, and heavier on the nose. It lacks that spa-like precision I was searching for, that clean, mental exhale. What I missed most was that distinct moment of light in Hinoki—a radiance that Hwyl never quite reaches. That said, Hwyl isn’t without atmosphere. It paints a brooding picture: imagine a damp, derelict church deep in the forest at night. Rain seeps through broken stained glass. Moss and green shoots erupt between the cracked flagstones. The scent of extinguished incense still clings to the air, but it's faint, overpowered by the earthy hush of the woods reclaiming the space. It's beautiful in its decay—more sacred ruin than sanctuary. If that scene resonates, Hwyl might just belong on your shelf.