On saffron tanned leather seats, in clothes that look like rugs, singing 'we must never break the chain'. Lacquered chestnut paneling with puffs of burning fuel.

Liner notes: 

"In the 80s my parents drove Toyotas and Hondas. They were cool. But around the corner an English woman drove the neighborhood kids to school in a 1985 300TD Benz.

If it was cold, it would not start. I remember jamming into the back with 6 kids (no belts) and sitting on the springy saffron tan seat just freezing; the sweet smoke of diesel coming through the warming engine (and our color changing ski gloves). Driving around was big in my family. Life seemed careless and endless, as childhood often does.

We would pile in wearing our Vision Street Wear, my parents in oddly shaped orange, white, yellow, and brown shag-rug looking cloths, our hair looking like the E.T. cast. We'd drive around the seaside towns of New England with the radio blaring Fleetwood Mac, Duran Duran, and Bob Marley.

Most adults of that era found the 80s vapid and in poor taste, but man, how magic it seemed to the kids. When my wife Kavi and I bought our first car in NYC we almost went safe with some terrible modern monstrosity. But then we answered an ad on craigslist and found a pristine ’85 300 turbo diesel Mercedes-Benz for cheap. The scent was the same as I remembered. It seemed fancy to own what was once an actual luxury. It is a car of timeless elegance. Its boxy look brings to mind 80s movies, the Alps, and an awkward, ungainly life of luxury that wasn’t attainable to anyone I knew in the 80s.

This scent is an homage to that car, and the smells of the air inside; so warm and dangerous." -D.S.

Notes: saffron leather, suede, vinyl, white violet, hiba, castoreum, diesel smoke, earth dirt, galbanum resin