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Five extraits, five territories. A Parisian house that composes whole trails rather than polite accords — and stands by them all the way.
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Iced lychee, blue Java banana, orange blossom. A creamy, almost sunlit opening — then cashmere wood settles in and Blue Mamba shows its true nature.

A dark, green elixir. Nigella in bloom, candied citrus and burnt wood compose a magnetic trail that asks nobody's permission.
Warm, precious, inevitable. The amber nectar flows over the dune: honey, date and saffron draped in a golden sandalwood that lasts until the next day.

Sweetness that bites. Black grape, caramelised katsura leaf and cold smoke — a contrast held from start to finish, between confectionery and venom.

A copper infusion, on the edge of danger. Smoked black tea, bitter orange peel and leather — snakeskin as a signature.
Everything begins with the gesture: a heavy guilloché stopper, engraved “Maison Magistral Paris”, turned between your fingers before you have smelled anything at all. The same graduated black glass for all five, the same weight in the hand — then the colour of the name changes, and behind it a composition that has nothing to do with the previous one.









Five territories, a single case. A collection that is meant to be collected.
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