AMELIÔ AESTHETIC PHILOSOPHY
(SINCE 2025)
SPECIALTIES.
BEING ICONIC AND ROMANTIC
WHO IS AMELIÔ
As I take my last, vigorous stroke toward the buoy of the icy ocean waters off Deauville, the salty, salty aroma, inundated with complicit essential oils, drags me into a fierce city nostalgia. It's time to go back, never again without Paris!
I'm Amélie, I live among the most frenetic cities in the world, in a whirlwind marked by the different Fashion Weeks: Paris, London, Milan, New York and the most remote lands of the European continent.
My world unfolds through the elementary orientation of a compass encoded by professional impulses and escapes of personal pleasure. The north is Normandy, where I have the privilege of isolating myself in a
historic family outbuilding close to the wild alabaster cliffs between Honfleur and Etretat. The south alternates the decisive and reassuring bourgeois elegance of a Sicily acquired during the most anticipated holidays with the beloved maternal grandmother, and the
sparkling worldly beaches of the Hispanic archipelagos. I love the sea!
The center of this compass, arbitrated by a magnetic pole of olfactory synthesis, is Paris, the place where I have decided to stay.
Chemistry has aggregated every moment of my stateless existence, recording, even before I understood the elementary connections, the memories and the
unforgettable persistent identities of a place, a person, an atmosphere.
An almost unconscious path that, year after year, has taken shape in my most incessant and now mature passion, a secret that I cultivate with determined obstinacy away from every gaze and that allows me to animate those moments of poignant melancholy, so disconcerting in their sudden apparitions. A flavor, a color, an aroma in the fleeting air that, unexpectedly, drags you elsewhere.
Only my own personal production of perfumes could free me from that sudden confusion and bring me back to a lasting, reassuring memory.
That of journeys found in the paths between one arrondissement and another, inside a spiral circle in the magical geography of passionate global encounters, all within the same city.
And so, quoting Baudelaire, I invite you to travel to a Paris that resembles me so much...
AmeliÔ
From this mixture of stimulating metropolitan and rural rebounds, of complicit and close-knit desire, my story begins.
Even before my breath opened wildly to a disorganized and chaotic olfactory ensemble, my maternal grandmother, in her transversal adoration of making grow, made me dependent on her very rare essences. A shore released by an exceptional ability to combine common local plants: oranges, lemons, bergamots, with all the wildest and most forgotten shrubs that the earth could still offer. From these she produced ointments, balms, pot pourri or oils to heat for the splendid majolica rooms. As if the color of each dancing brick could finally expand, escaping from its dramatic staticity: bunches of grapes, fig leaves, capers and chili peppers all in agreement, mulberries and
almonds together with coffee beans.