The Obsessive Elegance of Perfumer Baptiste Bouygues

There are two kinds of entrepreneurs: those who chase margins, and those who chase meaning. The latter aren’t just focused on what looks good from the outside—they build things with soul and substance, believing that if every element is considered and executed to the highest degree, the rest will follow. Baptiste Bouygues belongs firmly in that camp. Together with his mother, Marie-Lise Jonak—a veteran fragrance consultant for luxury brands—Baptiste founded Ormaie, a maison du parfum steeped in precision, poetry, and a stubborn devotion to craft. I’ve met many founders over the years, but rarely one as exacting, as single-mindedly obsessed with purity and purpose, as Baptiste. When Ormaie launched in 2018 with seven unisex fragrances, each one was composed entirely of natural ingredients. No synthetics, no shortcuts—an almost monastic commitment to botanicals. (Interestingly, back in 2016, when Baptiste first approached his mother, with the idea of creating an entirely natural line, her initial response was that it couldn’t be done.) Although their extracts have inched to 95 per cent natural, that’s purely purposive. “I wanted certain things that I couldn’t access from natural raw materials,” he says. “It brings a different light, so we decided to use five per cent synthetic just for some fun.” The Ormaie bottle (packaging included), unsurprisingly, is a manifesto, too. A sculptural vessel of intent, it speaks the same language as the fragrances within. Each component is drawn from makers who share Baptiste’s reverence for craftsmanship. The glass, sourced from the only French glassmaker that recycles its own magmas, is weighty and precise. The hand-carved beechwood cap, taken from sustainably harvested forests, echoes the sensual lines of Constantin Brâncuși. The box, produced by Cavalieri & Amoretti in Italy, is a quiet luxury signifier of elegance engineered in cardboard. Lastly, the label is printed in gold at Imprimerie du Marais, the storied Parisian fine art press. In orchestrating these details, Baptiste has not only assembled a global chorus of mastery, but also created a gesamtkunstwerk. (There’s even a creative credo, penned by photographer and writer Guillaume de Sarde, that lends literary weight to the maison’s philosophy.) When Baptiste was in town recently to mark the maison’s arrival at escentials, he seemed almost out of step with an industry governed by speed, volume, and seasonal drops. Do we need another perfume brand, amid a glut of new launches every other week? Not really. But Ormaie never intended to be just another perfume house. Each fragrance is a deeply personal composition, drawn from memory and emotion. Yvonne recalls his grandmother’s grace—patchouli and rose, brightened with red fruits and blackcurrant. Le Passant evokes his father, a lavender note softened by the scent of Armenian paper he once carried. 18-12, the birth date of his mother, is a luminous blend that captures laughter, joy, and youthful innocence. And then there is Tableau Parisien, inspired by a former love, which encapsulates the elegance and femininity of Paris in a single breath. These are not merely perfumes—they are stories suspended in scent. And like all enduring works of art, they do not ask for attention; they ask to be felt.
WY-LENE YAP: Let's start with your background. I read that you worked at Louis Vuitton and Givenchy. How long did you spend at those two houses before starting Ormaie?
BAPTISTE BOUYGUES: Louis Vuitton was my first job, and it was in Shanghai. I was consulting for luxury goods companies, which was an unusual start. I worked for someone very smart with a beautiful vision of craftsmanship, and I learnt a lot. One of our clients was Louis Vuitton. Because I was creating beautiful exhibitions for them, I eventually joined Louis Vuitton in events and communication. The role allowed me to travel throughout China and connect with diverse clients. In France, we often take our resources for granted, but China made me realise the value of storytelling and its impact on people. After Louis Vuitton, I started working for Givenchy, doing similar work under Riccardo Tisci, who is widely regarded as the best designer Givenchy has ever had.
WY-LENE: I agree. Burberry wasn’t his finest work.
BAPTISTE: Givenchy was an incredible experience that taught me a lot about creativity and work ethic. The references were among the most beautiful in couture. The Spring/Summer 2016 show at Pier 26 along the Hudson River in New York City was stunning. I spent all my time with the couture team, absorbing their expertise. This process was a significant learning opportunity, and while I knew fragrances were a part of me, I was eager to acquire that know-how. Eventually, it felt like an obligation rather than a choice, as if my body was signalling it was time to move on.
WY-LENE: Like an inner calling?
BAPTISTE: It wasn't really a choice; it was too stressful not to do it. It was easy to take the leap, so I asked my mother to create one or two fragrances.
WY-LENE: You grew up in Thailand and the French countryside. If your childhood home had a base note, what would it be?
BAPTISTE: Petrichor, the earthy smell of rain, would be one, and it is primarily caused by a chemical compound called geosmin. Humans are highly sensitive to this molecule because, in times of drought, we need to locate water. It's a deep, essential smell tied to our survival. I also remember the scent of patchouli from my childhood; my mother in Thailand kept patchouli leaves in her drawers to mask the humidity. Patchouli is a common undertone in many of our products—both my mother and I love it.
WY-LENE: Do you begin a fragrance with a memory, or does the memory find you through the scent?
BAPTISTE: No, memory comes first. Every story has real intent; it's not by chance. It's a story I want to tell, so I will go to my mother, who will work on it for months and come back with something amazing, because we both share the same olfactory memory. Thereafter, it takes two to three years to develop. When we first launched, there were seven fragrances; I wanted to tell seven stories, but I can no longer do that anymore. It's like a band's first album—raw, emotional, and shaped by 25 years of growing up. The first collection was from my heart. Now, releasing one every year makes sense, and we're happy with it. If I were asked to create seven, eight, or nine fragrances now that meant as much, I'd worry about diluting our true essence.
WY-LENE: You launched in 2018; it’s been about seven years, and in that time, you've released just ten fragrances. That’s relatively restrained. It’s compelling that you've resisted the pressure to put out more. How have you managed to stay true to your core vision?
BAPTISTE: We are launching two more fragrances in September. Many brands release two fragrances per year, often accompanied by other products. We were supposed to launch one last month, but my mother and I weren't happy with it, so we decided against it. Our salesperson is frustrated but understands our commitment to quality. For us, it's easy to prioritise quality because we are passionate and will never launch something we aren't 100 per cent confident in. We have the autonomy to make that choice, and the only pressure we feel is from ourselves to create fragrances that our customers will love. I'm deeply connected to the fragrances we create, and I won't produce something I don't find exceptional.
WY-LENE: I can see that, which I find very refreshing. Can you offer a glimpse into what these two new fragrances will be like?
BAPTISTE: They are extracts of existing stories. There's Livre Nuit, an extract of L'Ivrée Bleue. And 32 Degrees, that is an extract of 28 Degrees. We are telling the same story but from a different angle. It's like those painters who paint the same landscape, but at different moments, capturing it at dawn or sunset.
WY-LENE: What is one scent you long to create, but nature hasn't quite allowed you to?
BAPTISTE: We are currently working on five different ones simultaneously. Sometimes, despite starting from scratch, you don't succeed right away, and that's okay; you keep working at it. Creating a fragrance can take six months or, conversely, three years with no success. Travelling is crucial because it inspires new ideas and exposes me to different scents.
WY-LENE: Do you create from nostalgia or desire?
BAPTISTE: I don't create from nostalgia. We create more as an homage—an homage to a moment, to a person. We create by admiration.
WY-LENE: Is there a scent you used to dislike but now have made peace with?
BAPTISTE: I don't dislike any scent. Oud can be very animalistic for Europeans, but as I've been learning more and more about it throughout the years, the nuances you discover can be very beautiful.
WY-LENE: When do you know a scent is ready to leave your hands and go out into the world?
BAPTISTE: Super easy. My mother and I agree on it completely. We smell it, and after one second, we immediately know. It's amazing. You can give us ten variations of the same fragrance, and we'll always choose the same one every single time. We've the same nose.
WY-LENE: You've drawn inspiration from those closest to you. Who remains a muse in waiting—someone you haven’t created a scent for yet, but dream of capturing in fragrance?
BAPTISTE: I'm okay for now, but sometimes I make fragrances that you won't smell. One of my best friends got married, and for her wedding, I created a fragrance for 150 guests, each placed in front of their plates. There's a secret code on the website for those who attended to reorder that fragrance.
WY-LENE: What were the notes?
BAPTISTE: It was a very chic wedding; she's French, and her husband is British, both from the chic countryside in the UK and France. It has green notes—a nod to their roots, but they met in a bar in Paris when they were young, surrounded by wild parties, so I added some tobacco and leather to capture that mood.
WY-LENE: Very bespoke. Eventually, you might go down that line, too.
BAPTISTE: Of course. If someone wants to.
WY-LENE: In an interview, you said, “Your favourite books, works of art, songs are when they speak about something deeply personal. Like the best song is Justin Bieber talking about heartbreak.” What would a perfume inspired by heartbreak smell like to you?
BAPTISTE: I’m not sure I could create a heartbreak scent. My inspirations usually come from happy things I want to express. But a heartbreak scent might smell a bit like cashmere, with some Tonka in it. I envision it as a nostalgic heartbreak. It could be a vanille Tonka with a hint of sugar cane, evoking the aroma of rum and a bit of tobacco.
WY-LENE: It sounds like Tobacco Vanille from Tom Ford.
BAPTISTE: Actually, you are completely right. It's a great scent [laughs].
WY-LENE: It’s fascinating that your creativity stems from happiness, so many artists mine their pain for meaning, yet you draw from joy.
BAPTISTE: Yeah, I think so. The creative process is always challenging. It's filled with doubt and requires a lot of effort. There are long nights spent trying to express what matters to you. We enjoy it, but it's always hard.
WY-LENE: Yeah, because you question whether anyone would like your product, or resonate with it.
BAPTISTE: Is it good enough? Anyway, maybe it's inspired by something that can be sad, but not too sad. In any case, the goal is to create something happy and beautiful from it. So that would be the nuance I would bring.
WY-LENE: Is there a flower that feels like your emotional twin—one that mirrors your inner rhythm or the way you move through life?
BAPTISTE: This is an interesting question. It's not a flower; it's a tree. I've always loved bonsai. I remember my parents had a 200-year-old bonsai, and they would prune it leaf by leaf. There's something so poetic about that perfection. Now that I think about it, one reason I love know-how so much is that it reflects that piece of perfection. It's about protecting something so unique and small in time. To me, the bonsai carries the same symbolism as the rose in Le Petit Prince encased in a glass dome. It resonates with me because it's about protecting something really beautiful.
BAPTISTE: You did psychology. You can tell me afterwards.
WY-LENE: [laughs] I understand that you're committed to being one hundred per cent natural. I can imagine that it has been a really tough process. What has this taught you about patience?
BAPTISTE: Actually, we go from 100 to 95 per cent natural. The first collection was a hundred percent natural, but I wanted certain things that I couldn't access from natural raw materials. It brings a different light, so we decided to use five per cent synthetic just for some fun.
WY-LENE: Which new ones have them?
BAPTISTE: There are synthetics in our extracts because they provide a certain sillage. That aside, 18-12 also contains about two per cent for various performance reasons. However, I prefer natural ingredients because they possess a depth and elegance that synthetic ones lack. It's like an amazing cashmere or linen. When you want to see what's in a perfume, you can burn it in a lab to see what burns at what moment. Water burns at a hundred degrees. That's what we call chromatography, so you'll know exactly what ingredients are in there. Every single molecule has a special burning rate. Natural substances are so complex that they resemble a trail, almost like a drawing. This complexity explains the beauty of natural ingredients. Working with them has taught us a great deal about patience. When composing with synthetic materials, you can smell the fragrance immediately. In contrast, for natural ingredients, we must wait at least four to five days, or even a week, after each trial before we can evaluate the scent. This means we go through hundreds of trials, making the process very time-consuming. But it's our craftsmanship and know-how.
WY-LENE: What has been the most unexpectedly rewarding part of your journey so far?
BAPTISTE: What truly moves me is when someone smells a fragrance and has a genuine emotional response. As I mentioned, the creative process is the most important aspect. Once the perfume is finished, it almost feels like it no longer belongs to me. I've had a few moments where a person has tears in their eyes after smelling our perfume. I remember a woman who smelled Papier Carbone and cried because it took her to a very significant memory. She didn't want to share the reason, and that was an amazing moment. A friend of mine smelled Marque-Page, which has a beautiful oud and rich leather, and it reminded him of walking in a church in Jerusalem with his mother, causing him to cry. Those moments are rewarding to me, proving that all-natural fragrances work and can evoke deep emotions.
WY-LENE: How do you measure success?
BAPTISTE: We measure success by how much people like our fragrances, because we need our fragrances to sell. It's satisfying when many people buy them, as it allows us to build stores and work with artisans we love. I'm happy when it does well; it means that people like my idea. I think it's a cool idea, and you think it's a cool idea, so it shows that I was right.
WY-LENE: It's validating when people like what you do. How many stores do you have right now?
BAPTISTE: We have about 150 points of sale. It's very small compared to other brands.
WY-LENE: Do you have a standalone store?
BAPTISTE: We don't even have one yet.
WY-LENE: Oh, interesting. Was it intentional?
BAPTISTE: At the beginning, yes, because we didn't have the money to build my own store. Now it's because I want the perfect place, and it's not available yet.
WY-LENE: Where?
BAPTISTE: It's confidential, but it's in Paris.
WY-LENE: I see. Do you have concrete plans to scale? Growth requires speed, and craftsmanship requires time.
BAPTISTE: We prefer to grow slowly and build something solid rather than expanding quickly. While rapid growth can be exciting, it also carries significant risks.
WY-LENE: Like a house of cards.
BAPTISTE: It's very dangerous. We're growing slowly with a strong team of craftsmen who are improving. Learning takes time. Product is everything for us. We're launching with escentials now because we can finally meet the demand, which we weren’t able to do before.
WY-LENE: It’s clear that you have a wonderful working relationship with your mother. What did your mother teach you about beauty that no school of perfumery ever could?
BAPTISTE: From her, I learnt abnegation. At first, I believed I was the only one unwilling to release something until it was perfect, but she's even more extreme. She's a purist with complete abnegation regarding her work. I don't think this can be taught through education. As a child, I probably began to realise this, but caring deeply about your product isn't something you learn in school. It has to be a part of who you are, and that's what she taught me.
WY-LENE: Last question: Do you ever wonder what scent people associate with you?
BAPTISTE: I rarely wear fragrances because I'm always working. When creating a fragrance, I typically wear it to gauge how it smells on me and how it evolves over time, as it can react differently depending on a person's skin. I don’t think people associate me with a specific scent since I usually go fragrance-free—it's like a designer opting for a simple white t-shirt.