🚚 Free Worldwide Shipping on All Orders!Shop Now
Select Size
From $1.50
Original: $5.00
-70%Burning Barbershop—
$5.00
$1.50The Story
In 1891, Westlake NY, a bottle of blackened cologne survived a conflagration that burned the Curling Bros. barbershop to the ground. Charred, reduced and dark, this scorched blend of vintage gentlemanly notes has been vividly re-created by David Moltz in all its pungent, roasted glory. The resonance and reach of Burning Barbershop is quite magnificent; a sweet rubbed spearmint note mixed with offbeat salted lime creates wonderful fumes of nostalgia. Everything smells baked and piquant. Lavender is a beautiful rich addition, smoky, hot and sugared, crumbled across the embers of the cologne's base notes. It is scent for flesh, not for paper and abstract wanderings. You might miss the most amazing soft-shoed vanilla as it dances softy in the smoke, tempering the excesses of bitter citrus and metallic pyrotechnics. A black, rubber whiff of night pervades the drydown, as if the skin is releasing soot into a starless sky. A scent of darkened wonderment.
Details & Craftsmanship
Every detail has been carefully considered to bring you the perfect product.
Description
In 1891, Westlake NY, a bottle of blackened cologne survived a conflagration that burned the Curling Bros. barbershop to the ground. Charred, reduced and dark, this scorched blend of vintage gentlemanly notes has been vividly re-created by David Moltz in all its pungent, roasted glory. The resonance and reach of Burning Barbershop is quite magnificent; a sweet rubbed spearmint note mixed with offbeat salted lime creates wonderful fumes of nostalgia. Everything smells baked and piquant. Lavender is a beautiful rich addition, smoky, hot and sugared, crumbled across the embers of the cologne's base notes. It is scent for flesh, not for paper and abstract wanderings. You might miss the most amazing soft-shoed vanilla as it dances softy in the smoke, tempering the excesses of bitter citrus and metallic pyrotechnics. A black, rubber whiff of night pervades the drydown, as if the skin is releasing soot into a starless sky. A scent of darkened wonderment.
