Aziyadé

From then on, Aziyadé appears as a concentrate of sensuality similar to an aphrodisiac. It blends candied fruits, spices and precious resins for a result that is at once syrupy, carnal and daring.

Aziyadé, a novel turned into a perfume

Before being a perfume, Aziyadé is the name of a novel by Pierre Loti that was published anonymously in 1879. It has as its theme a love story unfolding in an exotic setting in Turkey, between 1876 and 1877. It concerns, more precisely, a European naval officer and a young woman from the harem of a wealthy old man in Istanbul. Pierre Loti himself described his novel as a Turkish love affair. The whole is written in the form of a diary and correspondence, a daring idea that no doubt appealed to the overflowing creativity of Marc-Antoine Corticchiato, perfumer of the house Parfum d’Empire. Aziyadé is thus a perfume that plunges into the heart of a harem at the twilight of the Ottoman Empire. Aziyadé takes as its theme forbidden fruit and impossible love. It is at once charged with tenderness, taboo, passion and eroticism. It is precisely on this contrast of emotions and flavors that the perfume Aziyadé rests.

The intoxication of forbidden love revisited by Parfum d’Empire

Aziyadé is a perfume charged with symbols. Its scent opens on a striking accord of pomegranate, a fruit said to have been born from the blood of Dionysus, the god of intoxication. Then, the whole becomes more candied and syrupy through the presence of dates, almonds, prunes, oranges and aphrodisiac spices. Aziyadé also releases wafts of cardamom, a plant dear to the Egyptians. It is quickly joined by cinnamon from Ceylon, an ingredient that the Romans offered to the goddess Venus. Ginger, for its part, unleashes here all its aphrodisiac power, while cumin from Egypt, prized in the Sumerian Empire during rituals of sacred prostitution, further warms the whole with its erotic flavor. Aziyadé thus seems to contain tobacco leaves. Yet there are none. The evocation of this ingredient is in fact achieved through a skillful blend of patchouli from India and vanilla absolute. Here again, vanilla was considered by the Aztec Empire to be an aphrodisiac plant. Carob pods and tears of incense also complete this particularly bewitching composition. Nevertheless, its sensuality would be nothing without a base of musk paired with cistus absolute, whose resinous facets are here clearly overdosed. The whole then leaves behind an unforgettable and fascinating imprint, like Aziyadé’s first smile forever engraved in the memory of the officer...