Creed: The House That Raised My Nose

There are perfume houses one admires, others one respects, and then there are a very rare few—almost sacred in their effect—that feel like an inheritance. Creed, for me, has never been a brand; it has been a memory palace. A lineage. A quiet but constant companion. My earliest understanding of elegance was not from a magazine or a movie, but from the silver-white glint of a Creed bottle being lifted from my father’s dresser. Long before I knew what perfumery was—its history, its secrets, its strange alchemy—I knew what Silver Mountain Water smelled like. I knew the ritual of it. The soft click of the cap. The confidence in his posture after he sprayed it. The way strangers would stop him mid-conversation to ask what he was wearing, and how he, with that unmistakable proud smile, would rotate the bottle in his palm and reveal the name as though it were a family crest.

He has worn Silver Mountain Water for more than fifteen years. I grew up in its orbit. The fragrance of blackcurrant bud, galbanum, and that unmistakable metallic coolness became the scent-track of childhood—school runs, family gatherings, holidays, life. And although I didn’t know it then, my eventual obsession with perfumery—the one that now fuels The Curiosity Project—was first born there, in those quiet, formative moments.

Creed has this extraordinary effect on people. Perhaps because it is one of the oldest perfume houses on earth, founded in 1760, originally as a tailoring establishment that created scented leather gloves for King George III. Perhaps because its formulas were once made in small, hand-prepared batches using an artisanal infusion process few houses still practice. Or perhaps because many of their most iconic scents were made privately, intimately, for individuals—royalty, statesmen, cultural icons—before ever becoming commercially available. Few know, for instance, that Olivier Creed created a bespoke scent for Grace Kelly on the occasion of her marriage to Prince Rainier of Monaco, or that Creed once crafted fragrances for Winston Churchill and Emperor Franz Joseph of Austria. These are not marketing fables; they’re part of the house’s unique, almost mythic history.

But beyond the legend, Creed is personal to me. It represents an ideal of manhood I grew up admiring—a fragrance as a signature, not an accessory. So now, as winter approaches, I find myself curating three fragrances from Creed that every man who aspires to live an elevated, intentional, quietly luxurious life should consider. Not because they are fashionable, but because they embody that rare Creed quality: the ability to become part of the wearer’s story.

Centaurus — The Gentleman’s Winter Statement

Centaurus is the quiet power move of the season. It has that immediate Creed DNA—refined, fresh, clean—but then it deepens into something far more textured. Cedarwood, incense, amber: it feels like stepping into a private members’ club on a cold December afternoon, the sort of place where the leather armchairs glisten subtly under soft lamplight, and where the soundscape is more fire crackle than conversation.

Where do I wear it? To meetings where presence matters more than words. To dinners where the lighting is low and the expectations are high. Centaurus has that aura—of capability, of control, of someone who has somewhere to be and something to do. It leaves an impression not by shouting, but by lingering.

Why it works in winter: because winter requires texture. Depth. A scent that sits close to the body yet projects an unmistakable self-assurance. Centaurus is precisely that.

Royal Mayfair — Old-World Elegance for the Modern Man

Then there is Royal Mayfair—a fragrance with a history as colourful as the neighbourhood it’s named after. Originally created in 1936 for the Duke of Windsor, it was kept a private royal commission for years before its public release. It is English tailoring distilled: gin, lime, and eucalyptus sharpened to an impeccable clarity before settling into cedar and orange blossom.

I wear Royal Mayfair on winter mornings when London feels crisp and promising, when I’m walking through Mayfair itself—past the tailoring houses, past the hidden gardens, past the places where tradition and modernity shake hands. It’s the scent of a man who appreciates heritage but is not trapped by it.

Why every man needs it: because style is not only about clothing; it’s about continuity. Royal Mayfair connects you to a lineage. To taste. To history.

Oud Zarian — Winter Opulence Reimagined

And then there is Oud Zarian, the winter showstopper. This is Creed doing something bold, something rich, something regal. It’s not heavy in the way many ouds are; instead, it is sculpted. Smoked amber, saffron, oud wood refined to an almost architectural precision. It smells like winter evenings spent in hotel lounges overlooking city skylines, or late-night conversations in rooms lined with dark wood and meaningful art.

This is the fragrance I reserve for the nights that matter. The nights where you want your presence to be remembered, not just seen. Oud Zarian doesn’t just perform—it seduces.

Why it is essential: because every man needs one statement fragrance in his winter wardrobe. One scent that announces ambition without arrogance. This is it.

Creed, for me, is a return to origin. A return to the moment I first watched my father smile as he lifted a bottle of Silver Mountain Water, proud of the elegance it represented. A return to the memories that shaped my understanding of refinement. And now, years later, as I guide my audience through the world of perfumery, it feels fitting—inevitable, almost—that I come back to the house where my curiosity began.

These winter fragrances—Centaurus, Royal Mayfair, Oud Zarian—are not simply scents. They are invitations to a lifestyle. Touchstones of aspiration. Symbols of a man who chooses with intention, who values lineage, and who understands that true luxury has less to do with price and more to do with permanence.

Creed is not the only option for winter.

It is simply the right one.