Underground Parfumsunderground parfums
An old-fashioned Australian sweet shop, a boy at the glass counter and the shopkeepers behind it

The scents.

Memories turned into perfumes. Every scent is an extrait, and every scent tells a story. They arrive, they develop, they settle. Made in small batches, by the two of us.

Morning sun through linen curtains across an unmade white bed, black lace left on the sheets

Her Pillow

Late 2026

Gum nuts scattered on a lichen-spotted granite boulder in the bush, grass trees below a breaking storm

Whistling with a Honkey Nut

Late 2026

A teapot and cups on a table under a wattle in Mum's garden, pink and grey galahs on the grass, a lemon tree, and the hills of Perth behind

A Cup of Tea with Mum

Late 2026

A ceramic mug of tea steaming on the wooden railing of a back porch, a green lawn in morning sun, chimney smoke rising from the house next door over the valley

22 Degrees and Sunny

Late 2026

Indigo jeans and a white tee pegged to a Hills Hoist in a sunny green garden, boots on the steps

Clean Jeans, White Tee and Boots

Late 2026

A young barber shaving a man's head in a green-walled barbershop, an older man reflected in the mirror

Duncan

Late 2026

A glider on tow behind a small plane among towering white clouds, the airfield far below

Gliding in the Clouds

Late 2026

A campsite in the Australian bush — two canvas swags, a campfire, an acoustic guitar resting under cover, the ocean through the trees

The Canvas Swag

Late 2026