Barber Shop Cradle

More than half a century ago, I was born as the late son of a barber in a small countryside town in Switzerland.

My mother was a Paris-born hairdresser and perfumer who came to find a better fortune in the land of her father, shortly after the Second World War which tore out France. There she met my dad, a local barber who loved his land of lush mountains and fragrant meadows.

My cradle was installed in the corner of the barber shop, as my parents were so busy working, long hours every day. In the warmth of the duvet, I started to build a real olfactory landscape, before even being able to look around with my eyes. The amazing scents of bergamot, lavender, neroli and other magic oils, all reached my infant nose, alerting my nostrils and becoming soon comforting feelings of love and pleasure.

From there, I can revisit my childhood and most stages of my life by digging into my olfactory memory, as a great collection of sensations and emotions. This blog is dedicated to this universe, for you, my friends, who like me see the world in colors and odors.

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