A Perfume of One’s Own: In conversation with Francis Kurkdjian

Francis Kurkdjian: I don’t think there is one fragrance that is entirely “me.” Each creation captures something of who I was at a particular moment, an idea, an emotion, a curiosity but, I’ve never wanted to repeat myself or be defined by a single signature. If I had to point to one, Baccarat Rouge 540 is perhaps revealing of my approach: it is abstract, immediately present without being conventionally sweet, and built around the idea of a distinctive, lingering trail. But I feel just as connected to the freedom behind my other creations. In the end, what feels most “me” is less one perfume than the freedom to keep moving, questioning and creating. Overall, I am a storyteller. I use scents to express what I feel. Perfume is first a feeling, an emotion or a story. Every fragrance I have composed surely carries a part of me within it. It could hardly be otherwise, since creation demands a total commitment, both physical and psychological. But I prefer to think that the next fragrance will embody who I am even more.

At 24 or 25, there is often a certain freedom in the imagination. You are less constrained by rules, expectations, or even by your own successes. You create instinctively, sometimes with a kind of innocence and audacity that allows unexpected ideas to emerge. Le Mâle was born from that energy. So, I was certainly too young to handle such a success at such a young age, and the management I was reporting to at that time never really took care of me the way I needed it. At that age, perhaps you have a certain freedom because you don’t yet fully understand the consequences of what you are doing. You act more instinctively, with less fear and fewer references. Four years after I came back to Paris and I realized that Le Male had become a huge success in all the markets in Europe, a real blockbuster fragrance. In France, it surpassed Eau Sauvage that was the best seller for more than 3 decades, and solid fragrances such as Azzaro for men, Fahrenheit or Lacoste. It was so unreal, and so unpredictable! But it was kind of scary. The question was: will I be the perfumer of only one success at such a young age? It took me a while to get over that fear and even now, people are asking about it.

With experience, you inevitably lose a little of that spontaneity, but you gain something equally valuable: perspective, technique and a deeper understanding of emotions. Over the years, I have learned how to translate memories, sensations, and stories into fragrances with greater precision. Today, I still try to preserve the curiosity and boldness of my younger self, while bringing to each creation the richness that comes from decades of exploration and craftsmanship.

A perfume is created with the brain and not the nose. I know it sounds funny, but this is how it works. People often imagine that being a perfumer is mainly about having an extraordinary nose, when in reality it is much more intellectual, intuitive and demanding than that. So, there is no secret. Creating a perfume is a matter of discipline and work, work, and work. And curiosity, openness to the world and others. I don’t think there are specific qualities or knowledge needed apart from technical minimums. And there is another reality that people may not immediately think about: one advice I could give is that being a perfumer and managing a business are 2 distinct things.

It all started last year, with a feeling, a desire of a new scent. I visited Liwa’s dunes and spent some time out in the middle of some of the Persian Gulf’s most sensational, spectacular landscapes. I was struck by those infinite horizons, where the gaze is swallowed into nothingness. The raw, bewitching beauty of the desert, the tactile sensuality of sand, the organic, shifting, almost carnal dunes sculpted by light and wind… It was this dream world, a combination of vastness and intimacy, that I wanted to distill into OUD velvet mood, into a moment when fragrance becomes a caress.

Velvet, as a fabric, immediately evokes something tactile for me. It is soft, warm, and sensual, but it also has depth and richness. I wanted to translate that sensation into fragrance and tie it with different inspirations. The image of warm desert sand was particularly evocative: its softness, its warmth, and the way dunes almost look like the contour of a human body. Its colour has a peachy tone with lots of facets. The texture of the sand feels velvety and shine as the skin of peach. These sensations became the starting point for imagining OUD velvet mood. I don’t necessarily think of the process in terms of a precise moment when I can say, “Now I have it.” It is more about working until the fragrance finally conveys that initial sensation with the right balance and evidence. The time it takes is ultimately less important than reaching that point.

There is no secret weapon in Perfumery. Too many often, ingredients are given the main role/character. This is when you have nothing else to say, no real inspiration, no real story behind the scent. Oud velvet mood was inspired by the idea of expressing the richness of oud through a softer, more sensual texture. Rather than focusing on the powerful, animalic facets often associated with oud, the composition explores a velvety interpretation, where oud is wrapped in the elegance jasmin and peach to bring a velvety feeling and a luminous tone. The fragrance was conceived as a meeting between the opulence of the Middle East and the refinement of French perfumery, creating an impression that is both majestic and intimate. But, if I had to choose one, I would say the peach note. It is not there simply to make the fragrance fruity, it has a very precise role in the construction. It brings softness, texture and light to the oud, while allowing its character to remain intact. The oud naturally has fruity and honeyed facets, and I wanted to amplify them. The velvety peach rounds out the roughness of the oud without distorting it. Together with the leathery, apricot-like facets of osmanthus and a supple suede accord, it creates this very sensual, almost skin-like effect. Without that balance, OUD velvet mood would not have the same texture or the same sensuality.

I don’t miss anything. I look ahead. I am not nostalgic at all. So, when I return to something I created years ago, I don’t try to recreate the person I was then. That person belonged to a particular moment, and I have evolved since. And in the case of relaunching Cologne pour le matin, it is not about revisiting the fragrance it is about maintening the Patrimoine of the House alive. It is not a reformulation. My Very Intimate Perfumes collection are re-editions of fragrances: I have decided to revive a selection of fragrances that, until recently, had joined the Maison’s archives. These olfactory jewels, once reserved for a circle of intimates, are being reborn today exclusively within my boutiques.

It’s a fragrance back from the 80’s (1981 to be precise). Of course, I was not in the Perfume world yet. But I would have loved to create Cartier’s “Must” and to dare this seemingly head-on clash: aromatic, almost masculine top notes set against a jasmine-led floral heart and an oriental base. It is an archetypal fragrance, a landmark in the history of modern perfumery, and one that has spawned countless descendants.

When I create a perfume, anything can inspire me if it becomes the beginning of a story that I can be translated into a fragrance. My inspiration is not driven by raw materials and I don’t think that the perfect muse exists. I first focus on a general feeling. Then I try to envision the final image for the fragrance. I dream my perfume then only I start writing the formula. How do you want to create something if you don’t know what you want to say? Painter uses colours, musician notes, as a perfumer I use smell. The name of the fragrance always comes first. It sums up what I want to say with my perfume. It’s like the title of a book or the name of a painting. It gives me a guideline, a creative path to follow.
So, I never have a particular muse in mind when creating a fragrance. Rather than composing for a specific person, I try to create for a universal vision of perfumery and the emotions it can evoke. The creative process is driven by a desire to capture feelings, memories, and sensations that can resonate with anyone. In that sense, the inspiration comes less from an individual muse and more from the pursuit of a shared emotional experience.

When I am completely free, what excites me is not necessarily a particular scent or something I already know. It is the idea of what might come next. I don’t have favorite scent. The next perfume, the one I have not created yet, is for me the most exciting one, always. It makes me dream and I dream about it until I found it. When it’s there, I usually lie for a short amount of time until I start dreaming about a new journey. So, in a way, the fragrance I most want to smell is always the one that does not exist yet. That sense of discovery and the desire to find something new is probably what keeps me creating.