demi-beurre

For the past few years, scent has become another medium for me to tell stories.

Sometimes those stories are large and obvious. Other times they are small moments that would otherwise disappear if nobody stopped to pay attention to them.

demi-beurre began as one of those small moments.

When I was in Paris, my mornings were always slow. I would wake up with the sun and leave before the city was fully awake. There was something special about experiencing Paris during its preparation. Before the cafés filled, before the shops opened, before the streets became busy.

The city was getting ready for the day.

I would walk through the arrondissements and witness these tiny rituals taking place around me. Bakers preparing croissants and pastries for the morning rush. The smell of warm butter drifting from open doors. Florists bringing out buckets overflowing with mimosa flowers. Antique dealers sweeping the thresholds of their shops. A cigarette lit in the quiet of an empty street.

The French morning was coming alive.

What fascinated me most was how ordinary it all seemed to the people living it. These small actions were simply part of their routine, yet together they created an atmosphere that felt luxurious beyond anything money could buy.

One morning, I passed a man wearing a floor-length fur coat. Under one arm he carried a baguette. Between his fingers was a cigarette. In his other hand, a bouquet of flowers. As he hurried across the street he jumped over a puddle, splashing the bottom of his coat in the process.

I remember laughing to myself.

The abundance of that single moment felt almost cinematic.

Bread.

Flowers.

Smoke.

Rain.

Fur.

A city waking up.

He was probably just running errands, yet somehow it felt impossibly elegant.

That image stayed with me long after I returned home.

For months I found myself thinking about those walks and the idea that luxury often exists in places we overlook. Not in grand gestures, but in everyday experiences. The smell coming from a bakery. The first cigarette of the morning. Flowers being unloaded from a truck before sunrise.

I wanted to create something that captured that feeling.

The result became demi-beurre.

Built around notes of butter, tobacco, and mimosa flower, this limited-release incense is my attempt to package one of those mornings and bring it into the home. The warmth of freshly baked pastries. The distant trace of cigarette smoke. The brightness of flowers waiting to be arranged.

I imagine lighting one while making coffee before the rest of the house wakes up.

I imagine lighting one while reading the newspaper on a Sunday morning.

I imagine lighting one while opening the windows on the first warm day of spring.

Most of all, I imagine lighting one when you want to slow down and appreciate the small things happening around you.

The things that create an experience before we even realize they are there.

This is the first limited release incense from amadeo amadeo and a project that has been quietly developing for quite some time. I am excited to finally share it.

Over the next few weeks I will be sharing photographs from Paris alongside the packaging and development of the incense. Before its release, I would love to hear your thoughts and feedback. The scents I create are often built from memories, but they only become complete once they begin creating memories for someone else.

demi-beurre will be released in a limited quantity in approximately 3–4 weeks.

I can't wait for you to experience it.