A fragrant getaway on the Côte d'Azur
The RIVIERA COLLECTION is an inspirational range of three perfumes with a light, radiant, refreshing and captivating signature. The French Riviera is front and centre in this new range and highlights a beguiling region that has served as an inspiration to artists, writers and musicians for decades. Expansive sea views, azure waters, a vivid palette of colours, varied natural landscapes and the vestiges of old school glamour lend this region a special glow.
The collection amplifies the magical moments exemplified in the 50’s, 60’s and 70’s. Times when elegance, charm and simple pleasures were in abundance. Imagine picture postcards of a bygone era that promise beauty and sophistication along with eternal days and nights.
CHAPTER 1: RIVIERA DRIVE
The convertible hugged the curves of the winding corniche road. Below, the azure sea unfolded, contrasting with the plush emerald carpet of umbrella pines. Jackie sat in the passenger seat, wearing a loosely tied scarf as the warm air skimmed her face. For a moment the sea faded from view, as the couple passed charming villas overlooking the water. Through gaps in the tall hedges, magnificent gardens could just be glimpsed, suspended on the cliffside. The sea reappeared, adorned in a vividly hued blue, just like an Yves Klein painting, Jackie mused. In the distance, Cape Ferrat plunged into the breathtaking bay. The light breeze of the July afternoon was filled with the symphonic scent of conifers and aromatic herbs. They wished that the day would go on forever, so the dream could continue on this road linked inextricably to the French Riviera.
CHAPTER 2: POMELO RIVIERA
Bright light streamed through the bedroom shutters. Jackie gently eased them open and let the warmth envelop her. She gradually opened her eyes. No place in the world had ever seemed so full of serenity, peace and wellbeing. Jackie gazed out through the window and recognised a familiar silhouette. The sailboat seemed to float above the water cradled by the sun. She decided to take a walk in the hanging floral gardens on the foothills of Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat. With a book in hand, she wandered for a moment between the bergamot and orange trees, then headed for the pool. A moment of quiet contemplation enveloped her. She placed her book “Bonjour Tristesse” on the table next to her and reclined on the deckchair. The intense heat mixed with the sea breeze and the zest of the pomelo trees brought a smile. She instantly remembered all those enchanted holidays at Villa Pomelo
CHAPTER 3: RIVIERA LAZULI
The Riva nonchalantly appeared as if it had been swept away by the Mediterranean breeze on a summer afternoon. One by one the guests arrived; the women sporting chic hair bands and wide framed glasses to escape the blazing sun. The boat crossed the Cap d’Antibes, moving languidly before coming to a stop. Sasha hesitated between the tempting freshness of a lemonade and the desire to embrace the expanse of the Lazuli sea.The chill of the salt water brought revival as his body remained suspended between the sky and the depths of the water. Back on board the boat, he lay down on the deck and closed his eyes. Lulled by the scent of the sea, blended with the boat’s teak oil, he shivered as a light breeze flickered across his body. The soft caress of the golden sun warmed his skin. A happy memory of a day spent on the waters of the French Riviera.
CHAPTER 4: RIVIERA SUNRISE
The sun was barely rising over the foothills of Menton. This soft, nascent light, coming from the eastern slope of the Alps, lit the sky with orange hues. The surrounding mountains, backlit, seemed as if cut out of dark silk taffeta. Jackie soaked up the intense green of this bountiful nature, where the orange trees, the branches laden with fruit, formed a multitude of touches of color like a neo-impressionist painting. Jackie rubbed the rough skin, dotted with craters, of a beautiful blood orange against her palm. She could make out its incandescent flesh, saturated with juice.
The scent of the fruit left on her skin revived memories she thought were buried forever. As if by magic, the vision of herself, still a child, enjoying freshly squeezed orange juice with its delicious pulp that her grandmother offered her on the terrace of the Negresco appeared. Also appearing was the detail of the chiseling on the glass, sparkling in the sunlight. This shower of shooting stars offered Jackie a spectacle she could have contemplated for hours. Like a sip of refreshing orange juice, the morning dew tore her away from her memories. On a sunny March morning, a sweet moment of nostalgic reverie on the French Riviera.
