AMELIÔ'S AESTHETIC PHILOSOPHY
(SINCE 2025)
SPECIALTIES.
ÊTRE ICONIQUE ET ROMANTIQUE
WHO IS AMELIÔ
As I make one last vigorous row toward the buoy in the icy ocean waters off Deauville, the salty, savory aroma, infused with complicit essential oils, draws me into a fierce urban nostalgia. It's time to go home, never again without Paris!
My name is Amélie, I live among the world's most frenetic cities, in a whirlwind marked by the various Fashion Weeks: Paris, London, Milan, New York, and the most remote lands of the European continent.
My world unfolds through the elemental orientation of a compass coded by professional impulses and escapes for personal pleasure. The north is Normandy, where I have the privilege of secluding myself in a historic family outbuilding nestled against the wild alabaster cliffs between Honfleur and Etretat. The South alternates between the decisive and reassuring bourgeois elegance of a Sicily acquired during a long-awaited vacation with my beloved maternal grandmother, and the sparkling, worldly beaches of the Hispanic archipelagos. I love the sea!
The center of this compass, guided 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 elemental connections, the memories and 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 all eyes and that allows me to animate these moments of poignant melancholy, so disconcerting in their sudden appearances. A flavor, a color, an aroma in the fleeting air that, unexpectedly, carries you elsewhere.
Only my own personal perfume production could free me from this sudden confusion and bring me back to a lasting and reassuring memory.
That of journeys found on the paths between one arrondissement and another, within a spiraling 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...
Amélie
From this blend of stimulating metropolitan and rural rebounds, of complicit and united desires, my story begins.
Even before my breath wildly opened to a disorganized and chaotic olfactory ensemble, my maternal grandmother, in her transversal adoration of growing up, made me dependent on its very rare essences. A shore liberated by an exceptional ability to combine common local plants: orange trees, lemon trees, bergamot trees, with all the wildest and most forgotten shrubs the earth could still offer. From them, he extracted ointments, balms, potpourris, or oils to heat in the splendid majolica rooms. As if the color of each dancing brick could finally expand, escaping its dramatic static: bunches of grapes, fig leaves, capers and chili peppers, all in harmony, blackberries and almonds with coffee beans.