Our new advertisement clip has born!! With the highest voting song "Where Is The Love" by Olivia Ong, the clip tells a story between Phoebus and Moon and the origin of Amour Destine'. Rating on Youtube is welcomed.
Amour Destine'
February 19, 2009
February 13, 2009
Amour Destine' in 2009...
Everyone has a different reason to remain at Blue Note in New York till midnight. Some people enjoy listening to jazz and drinking, some people expect to start a new relationship.
But SHE always chooses the farthest table from the jazz band and people. Actually, she does not use her vision to estimate physical distance but uses her hearing and smell to feel the distance between two hearts.
Tonight is not a special night; she orders a Martini as usual. When feeling that the band’s performance lacks of passion and wondering if she should leave early, she smells a familiar aroma.
It is the most unique and special fragrance that she has ever smelt. She traces this fragrance through the people. And finally she feels a man standing in front of her.
“Do I know you?” the man asks.
“Maybe not, but I can’t explain why your fragrance lets me feel so familiar, making a connection.”
“You mean…destiny?”
“Which brand of perfume do you spray?”
“My father sent it to me. He was a perfumer and passed away last year. ” He takes out the perfume from his jacket.
She touches and feels the shape of the bottle with a huge shock. She walks home as soon as she can, and leaves the man who is unaware of the situation.
She comes into her mother’s bedroom. Her mother has gone to sleep and does not notice that her daughter is going to tell her something. She does not plan to wake up her mother, and just puts two bottles of perfume together.
She comes into her mother’s bedroom. Her mother has gone to sleep and does not notice that her daughter is going to tell her something. She does not plan to wake up her mother, and just puts two bottles of perfume together.
“It is your Amour Destine’.” She is whispering.
February 07, 2009
You decide the theme song!
Which song do you think match our Amour Destine' perfume? Please use the left side poll to choose your favorite song. This poll will be continue till 2/14.
1. Where Are You? By Natalie ft Justin Roman
2.Where Is The Love by Olivia Ong
3.Meme Si by Lucie Silvas feat Gregory Lemarchal
February 01, 2009
Hot! The newest Amour Destiné poster has been released!
Where Are You?
According to the faithful story between Phoebus and Moon in 1939, we decided to name our slogan of Amour Destiné as : "Where Are You ?".
Following by this slogan, three styles of gift applications with the slogan have been created on Facebook. Pictures of gift applications are as below:
January 27, 2009
The Legend of Amour Destiné
The Legend of Amour Destiné
Phoebus was a French perfumer and worked for a top laboratory in Grasse, France. Because of the prosperous development in perfume industries, the lab decided to send him to New York in 1935.
One afternoon, when taking his leisure time to find a record, Phoebus noticed that a girl asked who composed the tone poem “The Swan of Tuonela”.
“By Jean Sibelius in 1893! The story behind it is an excerpted legend from the Kalevala epic of Finnish mythology,” he said.
Moon was so fascinated by The Kalevala that she always asked him to tell the story. In the book, the swan symbolizes the beautiful and unreachable in love. Phoebus and Moon felt they were so matched and fell in love. He always believed that we can identify all kinds of fragrances from different people. We can make a connection through smelling fragrances from others. He tried to extract a unique perfume that belonged to their love aroma.
World War II was broken out in 1939 and Phoebus was conscripted by his country. They had to leave each other reluctantly. He gave her a bottle of perfume and hoped Moon could keep in faith that they will meet someday.
“When walking on the street and thousands of people pass by, we will find each other if our fragrance is telling how faithful the love is.”
One afternoon, when taking his leisure time to find a record, Phoebus noticed that a girl asked who composed the tone poem “The Swan of Tuonela”.
“By Jean Sibelius in 1893! The story behind it is an excerpted legend from the Kalevala epic of Finnish mythology,” he said.
Moon was so fascinated by The Kalevala that she always asked him to tell the story. In the book, the swan symbolizes the beautiful and unreachable in love. Phoebus and Moon felt they were so matched and fell in love. He always believed that we can identify all kinds of fragrances from different people. We can make a connection through smelling fragrances from others. He tried to extract a unique perfume that belonged to their love aroma.
World War II was broken out in 1939 and Phoebus was conscripted by his country. They had to leave each other reluctantly. He gave her a bottle of perfume and hoped Moon could keep in faith that they will meet someday.
“When walking on the street and thousands of people pass by, we will find each other if our fragrance is telling how faithful the love is.”
Moon opened the wooden box and saw the shape of the perfume bottle. It was a swan! She was starting to believe in what he said with tears.
January 22, 2009
Le Flacon
Le Flacon
Il est de forts parfums pour qui toute matière
Est poreuse. On dirait qu'ils pénètrent le verre.
En ouvrant un coffret venu de l'orient
Dont la serrure grince et rechigne en criant,
Ou dans une maison déserte quelque armoire
Pleine de l'âre odeur des temps, poudreuse et noir,
Parfois on trouve un vieux flacon qui se souvient,
D'où jaillit toute vive une âme qui revient.
Mille pensers domaient, chrysalides funèbres,
Frémissant doucement dans les lourdes ténèvres,
Qui dégagent leur aile et prennent leur essor,
Teintés d'azur, glacés de rose, lamés d'or.
Voilà le souvenir enivrant qui voltige
Dans l'air troublé les yeux se ferment; le Vertige
Saisit l'âme vaincue et la pousse à deux mains
Vers un gouffre obscurci de miasmes humains;
Il la terrasse au bord d'un gouffre séculaire,
Où, Lazare odorant déchirant son suaire,
Se meut dans son réveil le cadavre spectral
D'un vieil amour ranci, charmant et sépulcral.
Ainsi, quand je serai perdu dans la mémoire
Des hommes, dans le coin d'une sinistre armoire
Quand on m'aura jeté, vieux flacon désolé,
Décrépit, poudreux, sale, abject, visqueux, fêlé,
Je serai ton cercueil, aimable pestilence!
Le témoin de ta force et de ta virulence,
Cher poison préparé par les anges! liquer
Qui me ronge, ô la vie et la mort de mon cæur!
~from Charles Baudelaire《Le Flacon》
The Perfume Flask
Translation by Edna St. Vincent Millay
All matter becomes porous to certain scents; they pass
Through everyting; It seems they even go through glass.
When opening some old trunk brought home from the far east,
That scolds, feeling the key turned and the lid released--
Some wardrobe, in a house long uninhabited,
Full of the powdery odours of moments that are dead--
At times, distinct as ever, an old flask will emit
Its perfume; and a soul comes back to live in it.
Dormant as chrysalids, a thousand thoughts that lie
In the thick shadows, pulsing imperceptibly,
Now stir, now struggle forth; now their cramped wings unfold,
Tinted with azure, lustred with rose, sheeted with gold!
Oh, memories, how you rise and soar, and hover there!
The eyes close; dizziness, in the moth-darkened air,
Seizes the drunken soul, and thrusts it toward the verge--
Where mistily all human miasmas float and merge--
Of a primeval gulf; and drops it to the ground,
There, where, like a Lazarus rising, his grave-clothes half unwound,
And odorous, a cadaver from its sleep has stirred:
An old and rancid love, charming and long-interred.
Thus, when I shall be lost from sight, thus when all men
Forget me, in the dark and dusty corner then
Of that most sinister cupboard where the living pile
The dead--when, an old flask, cracked, sticky, abject, vile,
I lie at length--still, still, sweet pestilence of my heart,
As to what power thou hast, how virulent thou art,
I shall bear witness; safe shall thy dear poison be!
Thou vitriol of the gods! thou death and life of me!
Through everyting; It seems they even go through glass.
When opening some old trunk brought home from the far east,
That scolds, feeling the key turned and the lid released--
Some wardrobe, in a house long uninhabited,
Full of the powdery odours of moments that are dead--
At times, distinct as ever, an old flask will emit
Its perfume; and a soul comes back to live in it.
Dormant as chrysalids, a thousand thoughts that lie
In the thick shadows, pulsing imperceptibly,
Now stir, now struggle forth; now their cramped wings unfold,
Tinted with azure, lustred with rose, sheeted with gold!
Oh, memories, how you rise and soar, and hover there!
The eyes close; dizziness, in the moth-darkened air,
Seizes the drunken soul, and thrusts it toward the verge--
Where mistily all human miasmas float and merge--
Of a primeval gulf; and drops it to the ground,
There, where, like a Lazarus rising, his grave-clothes half unwound,
And odorous, a cadaver from its sleep has stirred:
An old and rancid love, charming and long-interred.
Thus, when I shall be lost from sight, thus when all men
Forget me, in the dark and dusty corner then
Of that most sinister cupboard where the living pile
The dead--when, an old flask, cracked, sticky, abject, vile,
I lie at length--still, still, sweet pestilence of my heart,
As to what power thou hast, how virulent thou art,
I shall bear witness; safe shall thy dear poison be!
Thou vitriol of the gods! thou death and life of me!
January 21, 2009
The Super Model of Amour Destiné
Violet - The Super Model of Amour Destiné
" Maybe Amour Destiné will bring me to my fated one someday." Violet blinked, "If I am always wearing it."
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