In my late teens I often dreamed about moving to Japan. I longed to experience different colors, shapes, and tastes, and felt a strange, visceral attraction to Japanese style and culture. I pictured myself living in an old regal city like Kyoto, surrounded by temples and shrines, losing myself in a sea of red maples and blossoms. I ended up working in a Japanese company for nearly a decade, which was altogether a good thing, but my urge to relocate eventually faded away. That is until I recently got hold of Della Chuang’s latest book, which rekindled my old fascination with Japanese life and tradition.
KyotEau: Bottled Memories documents the creative process behind KyotEau (or Eau de Kyoto), a tribute to the author’s favorite city. A former art director at Ralph Lauren Fragrances and Tom Ford Beauty, Taiwanese-born Della Chuang tells us about the idea behind the project, its conception, and the hurdles she had to take before it was brought to completion. She reflects on Japanese art, design, culture, and philosophy, and uses her own photography, sketchwork, and correspondence with friends and colleagues to bring these subjects to life. In a cut out insert in the back of the book you’ll find a sample vial of KyotEau, created by none other than perfumer Christophe Laudamiel. In the book they discuss the transformation from the original brief to the actual composition of the fragrance, which features jasmine, incense, patchouli, jatamansi, cypriol, and some very elegant soft floral and woody accords…
As a kid I spent many hours watching my father restoring old saxophones. He’d disassemble them at our dinner table, work on the mechanical parts, replace the pads under the keys, and put all the tiny bits and screws back in place. His work always paid off, giving us both a great feeling of satisfaction and pride. I’ve loved beautiful instruments and machines for as long as I can remember, and have always looked up to people with technical skills. Browsing through the second edition of 
Most people can only dream of having a perfume made just for themselves. Celia Lyttelton saw that dream turn into reality when she approached Anastasia Brozler, the founder of London-based Creative Perfumers, and asked her to develop a unique, personalized fragrance. Brozler is a former head of perfume marketing at Estée Lauder and L’Oreál in Europe, and was a sales director at Crown Perfumery before she opened her own company in 1999. She helped Lyttelton in selecting the ingredients, and then assigned the project to perfumer 
What does communism smell like? How about the Sun, or Cleopatra’s perfume, or the atomic blast that destroyed the city of Hiroshima? This booklet, published on the occasion of the exhibition