Winter fragrances: a journey to the enchantment of Japan and the lights of Lapland.

• Interview to Emilia Chinigò, the fragrance concept designer and perfumer –

Q – Emilia, your fragrances always feel like small worlds contained in a bottle. Before we talk about the new creations, how would you describe your philosophy as a perfumer?

E – I believe scent is the most intimate form of travel. It reaches where the eyes can’t, where words fail. With Anima Mundi Experience, I try to distill emotions, landscapes, rituals, tiny unrepeatable moments. My goal is to create olfactive experiences that don’t simply smell beautiful—but that open doors. Each bottle is a passage, a memory made breathable.

Q – The newest creations, Shiro Tokyo and Borealis Night, seem to come from very distant worlds. What ties them together?

E – They both were born from silence. Shiro Tokyo from the soft, ceremonial hush of a Japanese New Year’s night; Borealis Night from the almost sacred stillness of a Lapland forest waiting for the aurora. Two silences, two forms of wonder—one immaculate white, the other deep and star-lit.

Q – Let’s start with Shiro Tokyo. What inspired this fragrance?

E – I love Japan, and I imagined spending New Year’s Eve in an “onsen,” immersed in silence and nature, with the snow muffled by every sound, far from the usual celebrations. A different kind of New Year’s Eve. Everything seems suspended: the snow, the breath, the moment. That purity, that fragile pause, became Shiro Tokyo.

Q – The notes you chose—lavender powder, rice powder, snow accord, Inoki wood—sound almost like materials for a poem. How do they work together?

E – Lavender powder gives a soft breath of calm; rice powder adds that Japanese ethereal purity, almost like silk dust drifting in the air. The snow accord creates a crystalline chill, a quiet sparkle, while Inoki wood anchors the whole composition in warmth and earthiness. It’s like stepping from cold night air into a gently lit Japanese home—soft, clean, enveloping.

Q – You’ve mentioned that Shiro Tokyo evokes a New Year’s moment inside an “once”—a traditional Japanese house. What did you feel in that moment?

E – Safety, tenderness, belonging. Outside, the world was white and hushed; inside, the warmth had a scent of polished wood and powdered rituals. There was tea steaming in small cups, and a sense of renewal drifting between people. It was intimate and sacred at once. Shiro Tokyo carries that duality—fresh air and warm interiors, purity and celebration.

Q – If you could describe Shiro Tokyo with one image, even just one, what would it be?

E – A single snowflake landing on the scent of wood.

Q – Let’s move to Borealis Night, which seems more mysterious, more nocturnal. What memory sparked this creation?

E – A night in Lapland when the world seemed carved from darkness. I stepped outside a small wooden cabin holding a cup of hot spiced tea. The forest was silent, as if holding its breath. And then—slowly—the sky opened, and the aurora unfolded like a celestial curtain. That blend of cold air, warm tea between my hands, and the shock of beauty above me—Borealis Night comes from there.

Q – How do you translate such a vast, cosmic moment into perfume notes?

E – You start with contrasts. Warm milk and spiced tea for the human warmth you carry with you—cardamom, too, because it’s the spice of comfort and night. Then you layer cold air accords, hints of snow, deep woods, and a kind of mineral darkness that evokes the frozen silence of the forest. The result is a scent that glows in the dark—softly, like the aurora itself.

Q – The way you describe this night seems almost sacred. It must have been moving…

E – Yes, absolutely. When you stand in that silence and watch the colors dance in a black sky, you feel incredibly small and incredibly connected. I wanted Borealis Night to convey that emotional duality: the stillness and the wonder, the cold and the magic.

Q – If Shiro Tokyo is a snowflake on wood, what image would define Borealis Night?

E – A cup of steaming tea held beneath a sky that is slowly waking up in shades of green and violet.

Q – Shiro Tokyo and Borealis Night feel very different. How do you see them coexisting in your collection?

E – hey are two ends of the winter spectrum. Shiro Tokyo is bright, white, ceremonial—stillness before the wish. Borealis Night is deep, dark, emotional—wonder unfolding in the sky. Together, they create a dialogue between purity and mystery, light and shadow, ritual and revelation.

Q – What do you hope people feel when they taste these fragrances?

E – I hope they feel transported, that they close their eyes and, for a second, find themselves relaxing in an onsen in the snow or under the endless Lapland sky. I hope they experience an emotional moment that stays with them, a memory they didn’t know they had.

Q – Both fragrances are incredibly refined. You created them with perfumer Bertrand Duchaufour. How did this collaboration influence the final result?

E – Working with Bertrand was like working with someone who knows how to translate dreams into formula. I brought him memories—sensations, colors, sounds—and he gave them structure. He immediately understood the fragility of Shiro Tokyo and the immersive darkness of Borealis Night. His sensitivity, his incredible creativity, and ability to work with raw materials gave the fragrances a soul that transcends the notes. He didn’t just create perfumes: he captured atmospheres.