COULD YOU START BY TELLING A LITTLE ABOUT YOUR WORK? WHAT DO YOU DO, AND HOW DID PERFUME BECOME SUCH AN IMPORTANT PART OF YOUR PROFESSIONAL LIFE?
I’ve always had a deep passion for perfume. When I was younger, every year I would ask for a fragrance as a gift, and that would become my perfume of the year. At the time, I never really questioned why I felt such a strong desire to do that.
It was only later, through my studies, that I found an answer: the famous Proustian madeleine (Editor’s note: Proustian madeleine — an expression referring to a taste, smell, sound that suddenly and vividly brings back memories of the past). I realised that, in a way, I wanted to photograph my years through fragrances, to associate each period of my life with a scent and crystallise those moments in my memory.
What started as a personal passion gradually became my profession. Today, I work across different areas of the fragrance industry: I’m a content creator, a lecturer at several universities, and a strategic consultant for fragrance brands, working on areas such as storytelling, communication, brand positioning and olfactory marketing (Editor's note: Olfactory marketing (or scent marketing) is a promotional tool that uses pleasant scents to attract customers, influence their emotions, and boost sales).
So, for me, perfume is much more than a product. It is a cultural and emotional tool, capable of connecting people with memories, places and identities. That is what made my passion evolve into a professional life entirely centred around fragrance.
WHEN WE MEET SOMEONE FOR THE FIRST TIME, HOW DO THEIR CLOTHES AND FRAGRANCE WORK TOGETHER TO SHAPE OUR IMPRESSION OF THEM? WHICH DO YOU THINK WE REGISTER FIRST?
WE USE CLOTHING TO APPEAR MORE AUTHORITATIVE, APPROACHABLE, CREATIVE, SENSUAL, OR RESERVED. CAN FRAGRANCE HELP US SHAPE THESE IMPRESSIONS AS WELL? AND WHERE ARE THE LIMITS OF HOW MUCH WE CAN CONSCIOUSLY CONTROL THE IMPRESSION WE MAKE THROUGH SCENT?
Absolutely. Fragrance can influence the way we are perceived just as clothing does. We can consciously choose a fragrance that feels warm and approachable, clean and reassuring, sensual, authoritative, mysterious or even unconventional. In that sense, perfume can become a tool of self-expression and a way of constructing our personal image.
But I think there is an important limit: we can control the message we send, but we cannot completely control the meaning that someone else gives to it.
Scent is an incredibly subjective language. The same fragrance can feel sophisticated to one person, seductive to another, and nostalgic or even unpleasant to someone else, because smell is so deeply connected to personal memories and experiences.
And there is another fascinating difference from clothing: fragrance is invisible. You can control what you wear visually, but once a fragrance enters the air, it becomes part of the environment and of the experience of the people around you.
So I don't think perfume allows us to control an impression. It allows us to propose one.
We choose the story we want to tell, but the person who smells us completes the story with their own memories, emotions and associations. And perhaps that is precisely where the magic of fragrance lies: it is one of the few elements of personal style that we can consciously choose, but never completely control.
IDEAS OF WHAT SMELLS ELEGANT, FEMININE, MASCULINE, EXPENSIVE, OR PROFESSIONAL ARE STRONGLY SHAPED BY CULTURE. ARE THERE ANY PARTICULARLY ITALIAN OLFACTORY CODES OR ASSOCIATIONS? WHAT TENDS TO SMELL “ELEGANT,” “SENSUAL,” OR “SUCCESSFUL” IN ITALIAN CULTURE?
I think Italy has some very distinctive olfactory codes, and many of them are deeply connected to rituals and ideas of care, beauty and tradition.
One of the clearest examples is eau de cologne. Think of Acqua di Parma and its iconic Colonia: citrus, freshness, cleanliness and an effortless sense of elegance. There is something very Italian about the idea that smelling good should never feel like an excessive effort. Elegance is often associated with being polished, but never ostentatious.
Then there is the tradition of aftershave. For generations, fragrance has been part of a male ritual of grooming: shaving, taking care of your skin, and finishing with a splash of cologne. So the fragrance becomes more than a way of attracting others; it becomes an act of self-care. There is something very beautiful in that idea of smelling good first of all for yourself.
On the feminine side, I think the rose carries a particularly strong cultural meaning. Italian culture has been profoundly influenced by Catholicism, and the rose has a long symbolic relationship with the feminine and, in particular, with the Virgin Mary. The association between roses, purity, beauty, devotion and femininity has therefore become part of a much broader cultural vocabulary.
Of course, these are cultural codes rather than rules. But they help explain why certain olfactory sensations can immediately feel “Italian” to us.
If I had to simplify it, I would say that Italian elegance often smells clean but not sterile, refined but not excessive, sensual but not necessarily loud. Citrus, aromatic herbs, iris, rose, woods and soft musks can all participate in this idea of elegance.
And perhaps what makes the Italian olfactory identity particularly fascinating is this balance between beauty and restraint: the desire to be noticed, but never to look as though you tried too hard.
IF YOU WERE TO GIVE ADVICE TO PERSONAL SHOPPERS AND STYLISTS WHO WANT TO COME ACROSS AS CONFIDENT WHEN MEETING CLIENTS OR COMMUNICATING WITH BRANDS, WHICH FRAGRANCE NOTES WOULD YOU RECOMMEND PAYING ATTENTION TO?
If I had to recommend one note, I would probably say musk.
Musk has a very interesting quality: it creates presence without necessarily demanding attention. It can feel clean, polished, intimate and reassuring, which I think are all qualities that work beautifully when meeting a client or communicating with a brand.
For me, confidence in fragrance doesn’t necessarily mean smelling powerful or intense. Sometimes the most confident person in the room is the one whose fragrance makes you want to come closer rather than the one who fills the entire room.
Musk can create that effect. It feels like a second skin, discreet, sophisticated and contemporary. And for a personal stylist, I think that is particularly important. Your fragrance should complement your presence, not compete with it.
I have a collection of more than 500 perfumes, so I have to be honest: my olfactory wardrobe is less of a wardrobe and more of a beautiful disaster. But despite having so many fragrances, there are a few that have a very special place in my heart and that I instinctively reach for when something really matters.
The three that I would consider my fragrances of the heart are Portrait of a Lady by Frédéric Malle, Colonia by Acqua di Parma, and Shalimar L’Essence by Guerlain.
They are very different from one another, but they all represent something deeply connected to me. They are the fragrances I wear for important occasions, when I want to feel completely myself and, above all, when I know I won't get it wrong.
I think that says something interesting about perfume: even when you have hundreds of possibilities, there are always a few scents that become almost a form of emotional security. You don't choose them because they are new or because they are trending. You choose them because they already know who you are.
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