Safran Nobile

Paris will always be Paris.

Louison spent years cycling through its streets, willingly losing himself in its meanders, discovering at every turn a forgotten facade, a secret courtyard, a café unchanged since the last century. Paris has this unique way of revealing itself to those who take the time to look.

But it is another Paris that inspired Paname Paname, the Paris of the 1920s and 30s, flamboyant and liberating. The Paris of Colette, Camille Claudel, Gabrielle Chanel, Arletty, Joséphine Baker, Kiki de Montparnasse, Édith Piaf. Women of fierce character who claimed their femininity with a capital F, their thirst for independence and equality in a world that denied them both.

Imagine one of them walking into a room. Red lips. Face powdered white. Hair cut short. She knows every eye in the room has turned toward her, and acts as though she hasn't noticed.

She needs no one to exist.

Eau de Parfum — 50 ml / 1.69 oz

Louison has a deep passion for bees. Since acquiring his first two hives, he has observed them, listened to them, respected them, as one respects a world unto itself.

One day, one of the hives stops behaving normally. Concerned, he contacts a more experienced beekeeper friend. Together, they open the hive and inspect the interior. The queen is there, in a pitiful state, trapped in the alcoves, covered in wax and honey. She is ill.

Before even touching her, Louison perceives the scents rising from the hive. Animal notes, Wax, Cypress, Geranium... A dense, living, unforgettable blend.

They take the queen in their hands and begin to clean her, gently, patiently. After a long while, she is saved. Returned to the hive, all the bees that had scattered come back, as if they knew.

Louison returns home deeply moved, his eyes filled with tears of gratitude and joy, the kind that only a rare and intimate experience with the living world can provoke. And gives thanks to nature for having brought him into contact with this queen, for having allowed him to save her.

Délivre Moi. Save me.

Eau de Parfum — 50 ml / 1.69 oz

This is where it all begins.

To create the first fragrance of the house, Louison retreats to the countryside, to the family holiday home. Alone, with his cats. He is searching for something, the genesis, the philosophy of what Technique Indiscrète will become.

A spring morning. The birds sing their first courtship songs. The sun's early rays warm the face. The vegetation awakens from its winter hibernation and seems to say: "Here I am again!" Morning dew wets the grass underfoot.

That morning, he cleans old white linen sheets of exceptional quality, the kind no longer made, infused with a fragrance he had created especially for his laundry and bakes an apple cake. He takes the cake out of the oven, sets it on the garden table to cool, and hangs the linen outside.

Then he sits down in the garden. And time stands still.

All the scents envelop him at once, nature, vegetation, damp earth, woods, the warm apple cake, the white linen sheets drifting in the spring breeze. It is here, in this suspended moment, that he understands what Technique Indiscrète will be: capturing emotions and putting them in a bottle.

From that day on, Louison only creates a perfume if he succeeds in capturing an emotion.

Eau de Parfum — 50 ml / 1.69 oz

A fragrance of royalty.

Imagine a queen of the 21st century. Monarch of her country, yet without decision-making power. She must remain discreet while uniting her subjects. Always elegant, always calm, an elegance that is not a luxury, but an armour.

She knows every secret of her government. She sees everything, hears everything, understands everything. Yet she cannot intervene. She fights in silence against the perfidy of her ministers, solely preoccupied with their financial interests and their thirst for power. She must remain the queen of hearts of her people, and ensure that corruption never seeps into the open.

To wear a crown is also to live beneath a sword of Damocles. The head can fall at any moment.

Eau de Parfum — 50 ml / 1.69 oz

Paris, the 1920s. Backstage at the opera.

The dressing rooms are hushed, intimate, charged with a particular atmosphere, that of the moments before the magic begins. The ballerinas prepare in silence, with absolute concentration. The costumes are of extreme delicacy, tulles, ribbons, tutus that tremble at the slightest breath.

In the air, the scents mingle. Those of the courtesans of the era, heady and sensual. The powders and rouges on their faces. The wax of the parquet floors, the wood of the barres. All of this forms a unique bouquet, suspended in the warmth of the dressing rooms — before the dancers leap toward the light of the stage.

For this is where everything begins. In this hushed moment, before the curtain rises.

Temps de flèche Bergamot, Little Roses in tutu, Violet in reverence, Pas de deux of Jasmine and Rose, Oriental jeté Vanilla, Patchouli entrechat, Musk demi-plié fondu, Civet échappé battu, Contemporary Vetiver.

Extrait de Parfum — 50 ml / 1.69 oz

Louison has a deep passion for bees. Since acquiring his first two hives, he has observed them, listened to them, respected them, as one respects a world unto itself.

One day, one of the hives stops behaving normally. Concerned, he contacts a more experienced beekeeper friend. Together, they open the hive and inspect the interior. The queen is there, in a pitiful state, trapped in the alcoves, covered in wax and honey. She is ill.

Before even touching her, Louison perceives the scents rising from the hive. Animal notes. Wax. Cypress. Geranium. A dense, living, unforgettable blend.

They take the queen in their hands and begin to clean her, gently, patiently. After a long while, she is saved. Returned to the hive, all the bees that had scattered come back, as if they knew.

Louison returns home deeply moved, his eyes filled with tears of gratitude and joy, the kind that only a rare and intimate experience with the living world can provoke. And gives thanks to nature for having brought him into contact with this queen, for having allowed him to save her.

Délivre Moi. Save me.

Scented Candle — Weight: 220g / 7.76oz — 100% soy wax — Burn time: 55 to 60 hours — Made in France in our atelier.

London, Restoration England.

Amber St. Clare is sixteen. She is alone, pregnant, penniless, in the teeming streets of London. Abandoned.

And yet.

Through her intelligence, her beauty and her courage, this young woman will climb every rung of a society that gave her nothing, from dark alleyways to gilded apartments, from highwaymen to courtiers, all the way to the bed of King Charles II himself. Favourite of the Merry King. The highest position a woman could hope for in the England of her time.

She lives through the Great Plague. The Great Fire of London. Betrayals, passions, conquests. She accumulates lovers with sovereign nonchalance: "Adultery is not a crime, it is an entertainment," she murmurs.

But deep in her heart, through all her adventures and all her ordeals, Amber remains faithful to one man. The one she truly loves. The one she can never have.

Extrait de Parfum — 50 ml / 1.69 oz

London, Restoration England.

Amber St. Clare is sixteen. She is alone, pregnant, penniless, in the teeming streets of London. Abandoned.

And yet.

Through her intelligence, her beauty and her courage, this young woman will climb every rung of a society that gave her nothing, from dark alleyways to gilded apartments, from highwaymen to courtiers, all the way to the bed of King Charles II himself. Favourite of the Merry King. The highest position a woman could hope for in the England of her time.

She lives through the Great Plague. The Great Fire of London. Betrayals, passions, conquests. She accumulates lovers with sovereign nonchalance: "Adultery is not a crime, it is an entertainment," she murmurs.

But deep in her heart, through all her adventures and all her ordeals, Amber remains faithful to one man. The one she truly loves. The one she can never have.

Scented Candle — Weight: 220g / 7.76oz — 100% soy wax — Burn time: 55 to 60 hours — Made in France in our atelier.

A manor house, lost in the middle of nowhere.

Louison spends a few days there with friends. The garden overflows with flowers, the vegetation growing freely, at its own pace. The house seems outside of time, welcoming, filled with a magnificent energy. One senses that it is happy to receive visitors.

At night, the woodwork creaks softly. Louison is not frightened. He always leaves a small lamp on in his room.

The walls are covered in wallpaper with immense flowers, flowers one would not find in the garden. Flowers from another world. At night, by the light of the lamp, he can admire their dance in the shadows. They have sensed his presence.

One of them draws closer. Its shadow brushes his ear. It whispers:

"We are on the wall. We have a fragrance. Lighter than nature. In the countries of the future or the ancient lands. Here is our ornament. And we repeat it from floor to ceiling. A fear of being misunderstood, for we have neither freshness nor seasons, nor sky, nor bees, nor breezes."

He falls asleep. And all of them came to him. They wrapped around him to protect him from the spirits of the night.

Extrait de Parfum — 50 ml / 1.69 oz

There are cities one visits. And there are cities that inhabit us.

Jerusalem is one of the latter. A mystical city, charged with an energy like no other in the world, that of centuries of prayers, tears, faith and hope that have permeated every stone, every alleyway, every breath of air.

Louison is deeply connected to it. Bound by blood, by history, by belonging to a millennial people for whom Jerusalem is the eternal capital and the living soul.

In the souks, scents speak before words. Spices, cardamom, clove, star anise, mingle with the fragrance of cardamom tea drifting from small cafés. The incense of places of worship floats in the warm, dry air. The thousand-year-old stones of the old city release their own perfume, that of time, golden dust, olive wood.

It is this city that Louison wanted to capture in a bottle, not its geography, but its soul. Not its history, but its energy. Not its conflicts, but its light.

Extrait de Parfum — 50 ml / 1.69 oz

Built at the edge of the forest, in the heart of the marshes. Adorned with its magnificent, thousand-year-old irises. A green city, with its stone cathedral and its lace town hall. A little Flemish, a little Walloon, always embodying unity, despite everything, despite the others.

Many are the countries that have coveted her, without ever possessing her. For Brussels does not belong to itself, it belongs to the world. One can travel the world in the blink of an eye here. It gathers all nations, welcomes them, absorbs them, and remains itself.

Its borders are so blurred they make the world laugh. Let those who mistake them beware.

Despite your age, you are still as beautiful, my dear.

Scented Candle — Weight: 220g / 7.76oz — 100% soy wax — Burn time: 55 to 60 hours — Made in France in our atelier.

Montmartre. The morning funicular.

A friend of Louison's has just ended her first love after fifteen years together. She is sad, lost, not ready. She boards the funicular each morning as one mounts a scaffold, mechanically, her gaze elsewhere.

But every morning, he is there. A tall, elegant, athletic young man, a Latin from the South of France. He watches her. Sometimes with insistence, sometimes with a gentleness that tells her he has sensed her sadness. She feels his gaze upon her and pretends not to notice.

One morning, she calls Louison to say she will be late for lunch. Her voice is different. "Is everything alright?" asks Louison. "Oh yes," she replies. "I had an erotic dream about the funicular boy!" Louison bursts out laughing: "My dear, your libido is waking up!"

Days pass. Their eyes meet, slowly growing familiar. Her dreams become more and more intense — but she must keep them secret. Her burning secret.

One morning, he moves a little closer. She doesn't dare look at him. They step off the funicular. He has worn so much perfume that she can follow his trail through the streets of Montmartre. She finds him seated at a café terrace.

She approaches. "Good morning... you smell wonderful, but did you spill your bottle on yourself?" He looks up and smiles. "Good morning. Yes, I spilled it on purpose so that you could follow me and we could meet."

They laugh. He invites her to lunch. She accepts. He invites her to dinner. She accepts.

They have been living a great love story ever since. And have two beautiful little girls.

Eau de Parfum — 50 ml / 1.69 oz