The Story
Why it exists.
The beginning
Cunning Man draws its name from the tradition of the cunning folk, practitioners of folk magic who walked between the seen and unseen, offering remedies, hexes, and counsel to those who came looking. Marcus R. McCoy, the house's founder and the perfumer behind this composition, treats fragrance as a working craft, one where materials carry weight and intention matters as much as aesthetics. Cunning Man fits that approach. It's named for Mercury, the god of magic and the patron of those who work the liminal edges. The fragrance leans on oak wood absolute, a material that smells less like a finished forest product and more like something torn straight from the tree, raw and vivid in a way most woody notes never achieve.
What sets Cunning Man apart from many leather-tobacco compositions is the oak. Oak wood absolute, a material that carries a sharp, almost acetic brightness on first contact. One reviewer described it as the smell of working red oak, that sour, raw-woody note you only get from the wood itself. That brightness does something unexpected: it keeps the heavy leather and sweet tobacco from collapsing into the usual dark, sweet, resinous gravity. The cade oil reinforces the smoke, but it's the oak that gives this its spine.
The evolution
The first ten minutes are bright and surprising. The oak wood absolute cuts through with a sharp, sour quality that some read as almost acidic, like the smell of fresh-cut timber or the ghost of fruit that was never there. Then the leather arrives. It's thick, structural, the kind of leather that doesn't sit on the skin so much as wrap it. Tobacco moves in alongside it, not the sweet pipe-tobacco variety but something drier, more cured, like the smell of a tobacco barn. As the composition settles, the myrrh and oakmoss tighten everything. The sourness from the opening softens into something creamy and dense, the oak becoming richer, more resinous. As the hours pass, the composition leans further into its smoky register, the cade oil asserting itself alongside the tobacco and giving the whole picture a darker cast.
Cultural impact
Cunning Man appeals to wearers who want their oak unfiltered and their leather thick. The oak wood absolute is the distinguishing factor, a material choice that sets the composition apart from more conventional woody constructions. Wearers tend to describe it in practical terms: an evening scent, cold-weather appropriate, something that works when you want to smell like you've been somewhere. The oak gives the composition its character, that sour, almost acetic brightness that keeps the heavier materials in check and prevents the fragrance from collapsing into pure sweetness or smoke.
