Sleeping with Ghosts
Fragrance notes
Character
Mark Buxton’s Sleeping with Ghosts opens with a tart, almost candied pop of quince—golden and slightly astringent, like the first bite of a fruit that hasn’t quite decided to ripen. Marigold adds a bitter, hay-like greenness, preventing the top from veering into juice territory. Then the heart arrives: peony, full and plush, but immediately shadowed by a supple, slightly smoky leather that pulls the florals into a darker room. The drydown is where the name makes sense—vanilla softened by vetiver’s earthy, almost rooty whisper, creating the sensation of touching a memory that feels real but isn’t there. This is the scent of a silk robe left draped over a chair after a long, quiet afternoon, catching the last warmth of the sun before the light fades.
It’s a gentle, introspective fragrance—more intimate than extroverted, more personal than performative. The sillage is genuinely close (2.78/5 isn't lying), and longevity hovers around modest (3.17/5), so you’ll need to respray if you want it to accompany you past lunch. That softness makes it ideal for solitary spring mornings or breezy summer evenings, not crowded parties or high-pressure meetings. But the structure is clever: leather and vanilla feel almost gourmand, while the peony and quince keep it fresh, so it never tips into cloying heaviness.
Who should wear it? Anyone who likes their florals with a backbone, their sweetness cut with something woody and animalic. Skip it if you crave projection or a sharp, crystalline presence—this ghost prefers to hover near your skin, and that’s exactly its charm.
Smells similar
Built from the same materials — ranked by how unusual the shared notes are, not by how many.
