Activism has always shaped how I approach my work. When I founded Charenton Macerations in 2007, I understood that the brand would need to push against the boundaries of fragrance in order to matter. I was not interested in adding to what already existed. I wanted to create space for fragrance to express its full complexity.

This often means looking beyond the bottle. I work with scent as something relational and immersive, something that interacts with environment, body, and context. Fragrance, in this sense, becomes a way to articulate ideas. It becomes a way to make a statement.

“Make a Statement” has become a guiding principle in my process. It is not a slogan. It is a measure. At each stage of development, I return to it to ensure that the work remains focused, intentional, and aligned with the core aim to challenge and to inspire.

It begins with the story. If a project is framed by imitation or vague direction, I step away. Without a clear point of view, a fragrance cannot sustain itself. It risks dissolving into what already exists. A statement requires clarity from the outset, and a team willing to support it.

Once a direction is established, I approach formulation with care. Each material carries its own history, its own set of associations. Even within controlled production, variation persists. Source, process, and composition all leave a trace.

I think of this as a kind of residue of origin. Every ingredient contributes more than its surface profile. When these elements are understood and placed with intention, they shape the emotional register of the final work. A rose is never singular. It is a convergence of references, memories, and decisions.

To make a statement, I avoid default structures where possible. Traditional gender classifications, for example, offer limited ground for exploration. They rely on repetition rather than inquiry. Instead, I let the narrative guide the composition. A fragrance may require contrast, tension, or unexpected pairings to fully express itself. Masculine and feminine codes can coexist, overlap, or dissolve entirely. The goal is not to conform, but to articulate something more precise and more open.

Not every project is intended for the body. In many cases, scent operates more effectively in space. Environments can hold and extend a fragrance in ways that skin cannot.

Work in immersive theater offers a clear example. Productions such as Sleep No More by Punchdrunk demonstrate how scent can deepen narrative and atmosphere. Spaces like Hecate’s Herbarium show how fragrance can function as a character in its own right, shaping perception and reinforcing presence.

These applications point to a broader field of possibility. Fragrance is not limited to personal adornment. It can structure experience.

My approach is also informed by my experiences in New York and the role activism has played in shaping how I think about responsibility. Fragrance can participate in larger conversations. It can extend beyond aesthetics into action.

This may take the form of environmentally conscious production, considered sourcing, or collaboration with organizations aligned with a project’s intent. Initiatives such as the UNICEF Tap Project offer one example of how fragrance and advocacy can intersect in meaningful ways.

For me, the guiding principle remains consistency. Any act of giving back should emerge from the logic of the fragrance itself. It should feel integrated, not applied.

The final stage is evaluation. Has the work achieved what it set out to do? Does it communicate clearly? Can it be received and interpreted by others without losing its core intention?

A statement is not complete until it connects. At that point, the fragrance leaves the studio and enters into the lives of those who encounter it. It is no longer fixed. It is carried, translated, and reshaped.

That is where scent comes alive.