Eau de Parfum
Nuit Blanche
Key Notes
There’s a certain kind of night that feels illegal in the best way. Quiet streets, bad decisions, no regrets. George V, lights low, velvet curtains. You look up, meet someone’s eyes across the bar, and that’s the whole story. No flirting, just a slow burn. You know you shouldn’t, and yet you know you will.
Creamy vanilla with a bite. Smoked amber that feels worldly. A skin-hugging musk that lingers into the morning. Built for nights that go off-script.
Best worn with winter whites, cold air, and a smile that says you knew exactly what you were doing.
Creme Denim
Nuit Blanche
Paris. After midnight.
Some memories you tell everyone. This one I've never told anyone.
You are at the Hôtel Costes bar, late enough that the DJ has stopped playing for the room and started playing for the ones still in it. Across the bar, a glance. Held. The kind of confidence you can feel from twenty feet, someone who already knows how the night ends and is letting you catch up.
You didn't plan it. That's your story, anyway. Nothing about it was supposed to happen, and everything about it did. Smoked vanilla on warm skin. A low laugh too close to your ear. Paris still going outside, and neither of you checking the time.
A white night. The kind you don't explain. The kind you don't regret either.
That's Nuit Blanche. Wear it when you have somewhere to be at midnight. Or someone.
— EH
The Thread
Brazilian Tonka
The warmth in Nuit Blanche grows wild on the banks of Amazonian rivers.
Tonka. A black, wrinkled seed from the coumaru, a rainforest hardwood that climbs thirty metres into the canopy. The fruit isn't farmed in rows; it falls when it's ready and is gathered from the forest floor by hand. Then the slow part starts. The beans are dried in the sun, soaked in strong alcohol, often rum, and dried again, until coumarin crystals bloom across their skin like white frost.
That frost is the scent. Warm hay, almond, dry vanilla, cured tobacco. Sweeter than vanilla, but darker. Less innocent.
The Americans banned it as a food in 1954. Apparently it's too much for dessert. Fine by us. Some things are better worn than eaten.
It travels from the Amazon to our bench in Sydney, where it does what tonka has done in perfumery for a century: holds the night together long after midnight.
Some things can't be rushed, faked, or made anywhere else.
That's why it's in the bottle.
Nuit blanche (n.) — French for a sleepless night. Literally, "a white night." As in: "j'ai passé une nuit blanche." - I didn't sleep at all.
Try it on first
All four scents in 2ml vials, fifty dollars, and the full $50 comes back as credit on your full-size bottle. Wear them for a week. Find the one that's yours.
Like trying on jeans before you walk out in them.