Néroli 555

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.

Eau de Parfum — 50 ml / 1.69 oz

Young, Louison was called the man of the forest.

He has always loved losing himself for hours in the woods, that particular sensation of being watched, without knowing by whom, or by what. What do they think of us, from up there? And the trees — what do they think of us?

Trees can live for more than a hundred years. They surely know the deepest secrets of the forest. They are its eyes, its memory, its silent guardians. They can feel pain, experience emotions, like fear.

They like to stay close to one another, to embrace. They appreciate company and take their time. There is a deep friendship between them, they can live like an old couple, where each one takes care of the other.

Trees have emotions.

Extrait 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

There are states that reason cannot explain.

The mystics know this, those who, across the ages and across religions, have lived that particular moment when the body no longer belongs entirely to the earth. The stigmata that appear. The visions that impose themselves. The trance that invades, surpasses, transcends. A connection with the invisible so powerful that it leaves traces upon the flesh.

Thérèse d'Avila, Francis of Assisi, Maimonides, Isaac Luria, the Baal Shem Tov. The Sufis in prayer. The Tibetan monks in deep meditation. The shamans in trance.

Whatever the tradition, whatever name is given to this force, the experience itself is strikingly similar. A total surrender. An elevation. A pleasure that is not of this world.

The scent of holiness floating in the air. Touched by grace. Divine pleasure. Ecstatic orgasm.

For this is precisely what it is, that fine line between spiritual ecstasy and the ecstasy of the body. The mystics themselves did not always distinguish between the two. And perhaps there is no difference at all.

Eau 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

Brussels. A December weekend.

It is bitterly cold. Louison is pushed through the door of Saint Catherine's Church by a gust of wind that leaves him no choice. An exhibition of orthodox icons from around the world has been installed there for a few days.

He is not of the Christian faith. But he has always been fascinated by liturgical art and symbolism — by those subtle and profound links that unite Christian symbolism with the Kabbalah of Judaism. Invisible bridges between beliefs, that few people take the time to contemplate.

Inside, time stands still. Visitors are in rapture before the beauty of the icons, illuminated by candlelight — blue, red, green, gold. Louison begins to smell. The dusty scent of stone walls. The dry cold of the blue stone floor. The freshly polished wood of the pews. He takes out his small notebook and notes everything down.

A priest approaches. He watches, intrigued. "Why are you smelling everything?" Louison looks up: "Oh, don't worry... I create perfumes." The priest looks at him as though he were a heretic escaped from an asylum.

But Louison's mind is elsewhere. He looks at the icons, these women holding children in their arms. And he thinks: every woman holding her child in her arms is a saint. Like our mothers who held us. These silent, absolute saints of everyday life.

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

Give time to time.

A misty dawn. A stream. A majestic heron. The symphony of the living, frog, bird, peacock in full display, a ballet of dragonflies. The fox cub, the fawn, the pheasants. Those flashes of life that run between things.

Bare feet in the morning dew. An atom of life.

The smile of the elementals, they come and go, taking all the time in the world. Fantastic reality.

At the heart of Jewish tradition lies a fundamental rule, perhaps the most important of all: to glorify life. The living. Always.

For resilience is part of the DNA of this ancient people. With it comes respect, the thirst for knowledge, education, instruction, this deep conviction that one must go as far as possible in all things, reach for excellence, never stop learning, growing, rising.

Lehaïm is not simply a toast. It is a philosophy. A cry from the heart. A way of being in the world, fully, intensely, with gratitude.

Have faith in life. Cry it out, again and again.

Extrait 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

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

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

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

A garden at the edge of the forest.

Flowers, aromatic herbs, spices. The song of birds. The butterfly and its "butterfly effect", an action, a reaction, a world that answers itself. The bee in full wonder. The ferret, the fox, their smile and their wide gaze. Cut wood, the grass snake, the lizard.

To smell. To listen. To see. To awaken. To wonder. To connect. To come back to oneself.

This garden is a green kingdom of the living, a place where everything is one, where every being, every plant, every breath is connected to the others in a perfect and silent balance.

It was my grandfather's garden, he was a passionate man, deeply interconnected with the living world, who knew that everything is one long before the words existed to say so. A garden whose memories have never left me.

Vert de Chypre is a tribute to those who garden with their soul as much as with their hands. To those who know that nature is not something to be looked at, it is something to be felt.

Extrait de Parfum — 50 ml / 1.69 oz