Santa Subita

Paris, the 1960s.

A woman crosses the Boulevard Saint-Germain. A well-cut coat, precise heels, gaze straight ahead. She is one of those Parisian women who need no effort — elegance is second nature to them, never a performance.

She is Séverine.

The heroine of Belle de Jour, Luis Buñuel's film with Catherine Deneuve. On the surface, a perfect, irreproachable wife, with an enigmatic smile. In reality, a woman who lives entirely by her own rules, discreetly, absolutely.

Plaisir d'Amour draws its inspiration from this era and this woman. That particular Parisian chic, neither too classic, nor too restrained, that always conceals something beneath its obvious perfection. An elegance that needs no justification.

Plaisir d'Amour is a couture fragrance, cut with precision, worn with grace, like a signed dress one recognises without seeing the label.

Eau de Parfum — 50 ml / 1.69 oz

Winter 1959. Somewhere in a Parisian hotel.

Just before the screening of Les Chemins de la Haute Ville, Simone Signoret settles into a small, hushed salon, filled with flowers arranged for her. A butler brings her a glass of champagne and marrons glacés, of which she is particularly fond.

A chocolatey, balsamic and oriental confection, glazed, concealing at its heart a vanilla-coconut cream. Those barely perceptible hints of mint leaf, of fig with an addictive sweetness. And the scent of flowers gently perfuming the room.

A suspended moment, intimate and precious, before the lights go down and the film begins.

On the 4th of April 1960, Simone Signoret received the Academy Award for Best Actress for this role, becoming the first French actress ever to receive the honour.

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.

A love story like almost none other.

An Italian friend, a redhead from Tuscany, meets an Indian prince in New York, a man of rare beauty and elegance, yet of a disarming simplicity. The spark is immediate, absolute. Except that his family had arranged his marriage to a princess since childhood. An Italian wife was out of the question.

But love resists. It grows stronger under pressure, as only true love knows how. The family eventually relents. Three receptions are organised — New York, Paris, India. Louison is invited to the Parisian wedding.

A fairy tale evening. Bollywood performances, sumptuous evening gowns, colours spilling out everywhere. And unforgettable scents — saffron above all, permeating every dish at dinner. Rice with vanilla and saffron. That warm, spiced, enveloping fragrance, mingling with jasmine flowers, the sound of sitars and the laughter of guests.

It is this scent that Louison carries home with him. The scent of an evening where love won.

The prince and princess live today between New York and India, surrounded by their children. To the great joy of parents who finally understood that love knows no borders.

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

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

The ship is called l'Incognito. It is coming home.

Its hull is moored at the quay of the port of Antwerp. But the Incognito has come from far away. It has crossed the world, and carries its scents.

From India, it brings patchouli and spices. From the islands of the Indian Ocean, heady ylang-ylang. From the Persian Gulf and the Suez Canal, incense, myrrh, Egyptian jasmine. From the Mediterranean Sea, honey from Haifa. From Istanbul, the rose, bewitching and deep. From Spain and Gibraltar, labdanum. From the Atlantic Ocean, the sharp, briny air. From Portugal, tobacco in infusion, falling on the blue stones of the wet quay, piercing the invisible sun prowling beneath the waters.

Antwerp. The damp quayside. The smell of fuel oil mingled with that of the Scheldt. And all these scents of the world settling gently on the cobblestones of the city.

Eau 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.

Eau de Parfum — 50 ml / 1.69 oz

A late summer night. An unlit French country road. Louison is alone at the wheel of his vintage black Saab 900, eyes fixed on the tarmac, alert — a deer, a wild boar, a fox could leap from the darkness at any moment.

On the radio, a podcast. The BBC pays tribute to Barbara Cartland, that eccentric of the English aristocracy who dressed exclusively in pink, whose homes were decorated in every shade from rose to lilac, mauve to violet, with occasional touches of unabashed kitsch. A woman who wrote romantic novels, who had built an entire empire from her stories, who adored violet perfumes, and who carried it all off with sovereign nonchalance.

Then the journalist asks a question. An uncomfortable one. Almost indiscreet.

"Do you have any fantasies? If so, what are they?"

A long silence settles. Louison thinks she must be offended. But no.

Her answer comes, in a voice unexpectedly sensual, like that of a woman whose desires are only just awakening, yet who is already of a very considerable age.

"I like young boys... and leather."

A burst of laughter in the dark. The forest rushing past on either side. Focus on the road.

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.

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

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

The scent of someone you love.

Not their perfume, their scent. The smell of their skin upon waking, after they have gone. That olfactive imprint left on the sheets, in the hollow of the pillow, in the atmosphere of the room. A presence without a body. A memory that still breathes.

Omnipresence.

That of the energy that surrounds us, invisible, yet always there. In us and all around us, between us. That divine breath that some call God, others the universe, others still the living world. The name matters little. The presence, itself, does not lie, there where the visible and the invisible meet.

The omnipresence of the architect of the universe, that indescribable yet so perfect mechanism. Our beliefs that carry us. Our doubts that make us grow. That tension between what we know and what we sense, between what we see and what we hope for.

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

The ship is called l'Incognito. It is coming home.

Its hull is moored at the quay of the port of Antwerp. But the Incognito has come from far away. It has crossed the world, and carries its scents.

From India, it brings patchouli and spices. From the islands of the Indian Ocean, heady ylang-ylang. From the Persian Gulf and the Suez Canal, incense, myrrh, Egyptian jasmine. From the Mediterranean Sea, honey from Haifa. From Istanbul, the rose, bewitching and deep. From Spain and Gibraltar, labdanum. From the Atlantic Ocean, the sharp, briny air. From Portugal, tobacco in infusion, falling on the blue stones of the wet quay, piercing the invisible sun prowling beneath the waters.

Antwerp. The damp quayside. The smell of fuel oil mingled with that of the Scheldt. And all these scents of the world settling gently on the cobblestones of the city.

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