Art calls our attention to new worlds and possibilities, yet our encounters with it are often fleeting—a moment in a gallery, a page in a book, a swipe on a screen. Scent—invisible but present, personal yet universal—allows us to carry these experiences with us, to live with them, to let them unfold over time.
My work has always been less about making another bottle of perfume to add to your counter, and more about creating a book for your shelf — something that expands creativity and cultural experience. When I am often asked what’s behind the name Folie À Plusieurs, my response is simply that it’s a metaphor for perfumery. But the real translation is, in fact, the inspiration, mission, and manifesto: a madness shared by many.
What follows are principles I’ve developed over eighteen years of practice. Some were written when I was starting out, others recently. They’re not rules — they’re how I’ve learned to work, and where that learning has changed, I’ve tried to explain why. Some have held. Others haven’t. I’ve kept both because the evolution matters as much as the conclusions.
Treat scent like a medium, not a commodity. It’s a way to communicate, connect and capture. Use it as such, and there is so much to gain from a fragrance.
See less, smell some, feel more. Let feeling be your first guide. What matters is not necessarily the story you are told, but the one that unfolds when you make it yours.
Perfume isn’t decoration. It’s not jewelry for your body — it’s a companion to your mind. It changes how you think, what you notice, how you move through the day. You don’t put it on. You live through it.
Make duration your medium. Gallery visits end in minutes, but a fragrance continues for months. The work doesn’t end when you leave — it stays with you. Time expands meaning, and this is what matters.
People think creation should be easy, peaceful, flowing. But think about how the world was made — collision, pressure, violence, chance impacts that brought water and life. Creation is friction. Not comfortable. Not gentle. If it were easy, everyone would do it.
The process is always the product. The product is merely a record or memory of the journey. Live the process, store or shelve the product.
Emotion isn’t unprofessional. It’s the material. Be emotional. You can’t make anything without feelings. The more vulnerable you are, the deeper the connection.
Be rough, but gentle on yourself. Be okay with things not being completely resolved. The magic is in the evolution of an idea or design. Creativity is a process, and brands are experiments molded by time.
“Uncertainty is an uncomfortable position, but certainty is an absurd one” — Voltaire. Doubt is your companion. It’s looking for the same thing you are — just with more stamina. It won’t let you settle too quickly.
Sometimes when I am painting, I see an imperfection I could correct. But I leave it. Because that flaw might be exactly what makes the piece perfect or human. Sometimes you are creating, you reach a point where you have to decide: fix this and risk losing everything, or leave it and trust the accident. I’ve learned to trust the accident.
Rather than feeling restricted by limitations, I am often grateful. I can do things other perfumeries can’t because I have almost nothing to lose. No large retail network. Small team. Limited inventory. If something goes wrong, the damage is minimal. This isn’t a strategy — it’s reality. But reality gave me freedom. I can take risks because there’s not much to destroy or lose.
In our Le Cinéma Olfactif series, people often think it’s about the film — a scene, a visual moment, some form of smell-o-vision. It’s not. It’s about the feeling. A tear breaks in the film Shoplifters and you smell the scent at that moment. Five days later, you smell it again — you’re not just recalling an image in the film, but you are inside that feeling again. Not the memory of what you saw, but what you felt.
Sometimes you finish a good film and feel unsatisfied — not because it was bad, but because it didn’t give you the ending you wanted. But something changed in you while watching it. Your sensibilities shifted. Your understanding expanded. That’s what I want fragrance to do. Not satisfy you immediately. Change you gradually. Leave something behind that you didn’t expect.
Follow the basic science. Do everything in the opposite of what is expected and you will attract an outcome of true differentiation.
With every turn of a knob, something human is lost. Use your hands when machines would suffice — resourcefulness breeds authenticity and retains energy.
Always sacrifice the lesser for the greater goals. It’s tough, often those around you will be unhappy or disappointed. Your focus on the bigger picture may make them feel less worthy or involved. Take solace in knowing that whatever the greater vision you choose to fully invest yourself in will ultimately benefit everyone, including the small thinkers.
As a songwriter, I once wrote lyrics to a melody that felt perfect. Twenty years later, I sang the same words to a different melody — and they expanded. The lyrics were always strong. The form needed to evolve. Sometimes you create the concept and it feels right, then less right. Then it returns in a different form and hits. Trust the lyric. Let the melody change.
Fuck seasons, be seasonless. A perfume can’t be confined to a season — that’s marketing. Don’t let the industry’s schedule dictate when you create or when you wear. If a fragrance means something to you, it’s timeless. You decide when the season changes, when you’ve outgrown it, when it’s time for something new. For new brands: don’t create for the market. Create the market.
Be yourself. If you’re an asshole, you’re an asshole. Don’t pretend otherwise. If you become less of an asshole, people will notice. Growth shows. Pretending doesn’t. The real ones can smell it.
You’re winning every day you return to your craft. A mentor told me: “Awards are like hemorrhoids — every asshole gets them at some point.” Don’t let external validation be the only proof you’re doing something worthwhile. Every morning you wake up and get to your table, that’s the award. You get to do what you love. That’s winning. Save your submission fees. Put them into your work. Awards judge you. Your work just needs your attention.
The artist is the origin, not the ornament. The artist is not the decorator; they are the source.
Working with creators, you need emotional thickness. You will often spend more time managing emotions than managing the project. Such is life. Such is creation. Be windswept.
Sell your products, don’t sell your soul. Perfumeries that aim to create true cultural value, and human connection, should not be sold in apothecaries or department stores. A more meaningful showcase is in museums, galleries or select shops that seek to create a deeper level of cultural engagement, and foster creativity. With the financial needs of a small brand this could be challenging — I know this first hand, however I aim for complete independence from traditional retail and distribution channels. Foster a direct relationship with your audience. Department stores and boutiques come and go, loyal fans stand by meaningful brands that resonate with them for a lifetime.
I hated New York when I moved back. Berlin had been beautiful — space, art, quiet. But New York teaches you something else. You’re surrounded by people fighting to survive, fighting to create, fighting to stay human under pressure. The guy at the deli who knows your order. The woman at the produce stand who waves off the 25 cents you’re short. The kid cracking jokes on a crowded subway in the morning. This city won’t let you hide behind pretty things — it makes you make real things. Things with feeling. And feeling is what moves people, not only beauty.
The following are thoughts still finding their form. Some may move into the manifesto above. Some may spark new sections. Some will simply fall away. They are here because they felt true when I wrote them.
One thing I have learned from my bottles and how people interact with them: they always look at the painted side. We are programmed to look at the surface, not through things. The idea that you are intended to look through the glass to experience the intended visual — this is not natural. I have suspicions why.
This manifesto is alive. It changes as I do. What was true in 2014 may not be true tomorrow. The only constant is the commitment to keep questioning.