A quiet escape in the heart of London, exploring scent as story, memory, and signature.
There’s a kind of hush you feel stepping off Regent Street and into the world of Creed. Not silence exactly, London never really quiets but a shift. A sense that things are about to slow down.
I arrived in the morning, slipping past the familiar rhythm of traffic and footsteps into the boutique’s newly expanded space, part flagship, part sanctuary. I set down my bag and exhaled. Immediately, I felt calm. The interiors were warm and polished: Verde Luana marble, American walnut panelling, brushed brass details that caught the light just enough. Surrounded by one of kind Creed moments.
I was then escorted upstairs to the private suite, a serene, light-filled space overlooking Regent Street. Velvet stools, soft textures, tall windows. I sat at the Creed bar on a velvet stool beside the windows, watching the city pass outside. Black cabs. Red buses. Summer light. Inside, everything felt still. Cool air. Gentle scent. Time began to stretch in the best way.
The consultation unfolded naturally. A shared curiosity and a generous offering: every single fragrance in the Creed library, laid out to explore. My consultant guided me through them one by one, each introduced with a story, some rooted in place, like the sea, the Alps, Italy, France. Others more abstract: a feeling of movement, lightness, or memory. Often, we made up our own imagining who a scent belonged to, what room they were in, how they wanted to be remembered. It was less like shopping and more like storytelling. Like travel. Like casting a character.
As we moved through the collection, we started to notice a pattern. I kept leaning into the smoky scents, the ones with earthy depth and a bit of warmth. Vanilla came up more than once not the syrupy kind, but the type that sits low and steady on the skin. I wanted something that felt grounded. Intimate. Skin-close.
I’d mentioned early on that Centaurus was one of the few bottles I’d ever completely finished a quiet favourite of mine. Later in the session, we arrived at its sister fragrance, Delphinus. The moment I tried it, I knew. It was all the things I’d loved in Centaurus, but reimagined smoother, deeper, a little sexier. It smelled like marzipan but not sweet. Smoky, polished, confident. Familiar but elevated. The kind of scent you don’t have to think about once it’s on. It simply becomes part of you.
Before I left, I chose one of the brand’s grey and gold travel atomisers weighty, discreet, and beautifully made. It felt like something a Bond girl would slip into her handbag, casually engraved with her initials. I had mine filled with Delphinus. At £55, it felt less like an accessory and more like a companion. Something to reach for, to anchor the day.
What I left with wasn’t just a fragrance. It was a moment. A new signature. Something quiet, lasting, and entirely mine.
Creed Fragrances
Unit 7, Quadrant Arcade
80-82 Regent St, London W1B 5RS
