He collects scents, books and memories. He creates perfumes that smell like stories – sometimes childhood, sometimes a horseback journey through the mountains of Colombia, and sometimes… a poker night. He believes in intuition, not marketing. And that the best things are born without haste. For Ludovic Bonneton, founder of Bon Parfumeur, perfumes are not a luxury but an experience. A snapshot of emotion. A scent that in one second can transport us through time. And sometimes – surprise us. Like a bluff that smells of tuberose. 

Who are you beyond Bon Parfumeur? 

A Parisian with the soul of a wanderer, in love with Colombia, horses, travel, cigars and poker. I love my city – its rhythm, history and architecture – but I am always ready to hit the road. I am passionate about photography because it allows me to capture the transience of a moment. During one of my longest trips (a two-year journey) I decided I would only photograph the people I met. Those are my memories. No landscapes, because someone better than me has already taken the photo of Lake Baikal. I am lucky to share my life with an extraordinary family and to be the father of two daughters. For most of my career I worked in the tech industry before creating my own perfume brand, which I have been collecting since my teenage years. Besides that, I believe in the beauty of everyday life – in the poetry of living. 

Why and how did you decide to start your own perfume brand? 

As an enthusiast and collector of scents, I wanted to devote myself fully to perfumes, so I jumped in headfirst without overthinking it. I wanted to return to what I have always valued most in perfumes: their noble origins, while remaining very contemporary. I told myself that if I approached it honestly and respectfully, focusing primarily on quality, and if each creation brought me pleasure, other perfume lovers would appreciate it too. Above all, I create fragrances I would want to wear myself – I am my first customer. 

Do you remember the moment you wanted to create your own brand? 

I never had anything to do with the beauty industry. I come from a family of publishers. At home we didn’t talk about people, gossip or even ideas – we talked about books. When I was 20, I wanted to create a magazine dedicated to cigars, which I started smoking at 16. But it was hard to find investors, so I went into the tech industry. I launched several companies and more than a decade ago I sold my own. I didn’t have a “what’s next” plan, but I said to my wife, who is Colombian: “Since we spend most of our lives in Paris, let’s try living there for a while. It’s a good time.” We moved. My wife started her own jewelry brand there, and I supported her while looking for my next professional path.  

So was it in Colombia that the “aha” moment happened and you realized it would be a perfume brand? 
 
Yes. We were living in Cali – a tropical city a thousand meters above sea level, where the weather is simply perfect: sun, 25 degrees every day and an intensity of smells that is hard to describe. Even the rain has its own aroma there. Everything around smelled so strongly that I stopped reaching for perfumes because any extra scent felt unnecessary. One day we went on a horseback ride with friends from Cali into the mountains. It was almost a mystical experience for me – I felt every aroma: horses, blooming flowers, the city with a slight trace of exhaust, the humid forest. And I felt that I wanted to create perfumes, that it was my true passion. I didn’t know the perfumery industry, but I knew scents and the emotions they can evoke. I wanted to create something personal, based on memories. Two weeks later I was already in Paris, looking for people who could help me. 

That must have been a very strong impulse. 

It was an impulse, not a fleeting whim. Rather something that had been building inside me for a long time and finally found its outlet. Creating scents turned out to be something natural for me. My work is a real pleasure. Well, maybe except for the accounting – but the rest? It’s the joy of creating, of telling stories that existed only inside me before. And perhaps that’s why the brand found its audience so quickly. I remember opening the boutique in Le Marais, at 17 rue Saint Croix de la Bretonnerie. A woman came in with her two daughters. I asked if she knew the brand. She smiled and said, “Of course. I have this scent and this one, and my daughters have that one.” It was one of the most beautiful moments. I introduced myself: “I’m the founder.” And she replied: “These are the best perfumes I’ve ever had.” Moments like that drive me – everything makes sense when you meet people who feel these scents the same way you do. I like contrasts, when a scent leaves an emotion – something that stays with you for a long time. For me perfumes are an experience – a sound, a feeling, a memory. Perfumes don’t save lives. But they make life fuller. More sensual. More conscious. Imagine going on vacation with one scent – say Jean Cologne 004. Then, years later, you smell it again. Suddenly the images come back. The sun, freedom, lightness. That is the magic of scents. 

Have you always been interested in scents? 
 
I have always been fascinated by them – especially the hidden, unexpected ones. I believe you can’t simply “learn” to do perfumes. You have to love them. It all started early. Maybe I didn’t yet understand what scent truly was, but something in me was reacting. Something was being recorded. I began to notice that scent is not just a pleasant smell, but also emotion, memory, mood.  

Do you remember the first scent you consciously chose for yourself? 
 
It was Jicky by Guerlain. I was fifteen. And contrary to what many assume, it wasn’t my mother’s scent. I discovered it myself, in a boutique. I was there with a friend who was looking for a fragrance. My peers were choosing Fahrenheit at the time; I smelled Jicky – and I was hooked. Jicky was actually the start of my perfume collecting. Later came my love for niche brands that were just emerging then – Serge Lutens, Serge Noire, Musc Ravageur by Maurice Roucel… I collected them with great care. I chose scents not because they were fashionable, but because they moved something in me. 

How many perfumes are in your collection today? 
 
I stopped counting… At one point the bottles began to take up more and more space – to the point that one day my wife asked, “Do you really need all of this?” So I moved part of the collection to the office, but many remain at home. Especially those that have emotional significance for me, even if I don’t wear them now. Pour un Homme de Caron reminds me of a specific period of my life. Opium, although I never used it, has symbolic value for me. And Shalimar – to me the most beautiful bottle ever made. An absolute masterpiece.  

Do you collect anything else besides scents? 
 
Books – especially those devoted to democracy and political philosophy, but also literature. I have almost all the editions of Lovecraft. Besides books, I collect travel mementos. Sometimes very unexpected ones. From a trip to Pakistan I brought heavy metal cups given to me by Tehmina Durrani – a writer and activist. She invited us into her home and gave them to us as a farewell gift. Even though we were traveling with backpacks and their weight was a challenge, I carried them like treasure. From Argentina I brought back a mat – seemingly ordinary, but for me it’s a memory of horseback riding across endless plains. Each of these objects tells a story. And maybe that’s what I collect most of all – memories locked in things. 

You travel a lot. Which mode do you choose most often? 

Traveling is freedom for me. I most often travel slowly, by train. I love that rhythm – even, almost meditative. On a train time flows differently. You can look out the window, think, not rush. I’m fortunate to be able to allow myself that. I travel to meet people. I like to sit with someone, play cards, talk without hurry. For me travel is not “sightseeing” but experiencing. And I often choose destinations that allow me one more kind of freedom – a gallop on horseback. When I was a child I imagined I was galloping on a horse right next to a moving train. So I learned to ride and horses accompany me on most trips. I have ridden in Pakistan, Argentina, Mongolia – where you can gallop for hours – nonstop and without borders.  

You collect many things – books, scents, memories. I wanted to ask about photographic memory, but listening to you, I feel your memory is more… sensory. 

I have quite a good photographic memory – though terrible for names. But I remember people I spend time with very well. And even better – scents. They really lodge deeply in my memories. The strongest trace, however, doesn’t come from a specific perfume but… from childhood. From the smell of my grandmother’s apartment. It was something incredible – wood, leather, books, perhaps a bit of dust… The moment you crossed the threshold you felt history. That scent said, “Here you are safe.” Every home smells different. And that can’t be faked. 

And your home? What does it smell like today? 

Candles. My wife and I have our own collection – we especially love those with a basil note. But for me a home must smell of life. If you drink coffee, cook something spicy – it all stays in the air. And that is beautiful. I don’t like places that smell like a hotel. I like to feel that someone really lives there. 

What is the most beautiful and the worst scent on your personal list? 
 
I like many different scents – I change them often depending on mood, time of day, memories. I don’t have a single answer. But if I had to point to something I truly dislike, it would be a synthetic “fruit” scent that never existed – I can’t stand it. It reminds me of plastic, of something unnatural. Although, interestingly, the smell of plastic can be appealing to me – for example the smell of a new car. That’s plastic too, but of a completely different kind. And the most beautiful scent? If I had to choose one, it would probably be vetiver. I love it. I have many perfumes where vetiver is a base note. It’s an elegant, deep, natural scent – and at the same time incredibly versatile. It can be earthy, smoky, slightly rosy. Sometimes it resembles freshly cut grass, other times – leather. It’s an ingredient that tells a story by itself. 

Your fragrances are very authentic, emotional. They feel instinctive – as if you don’t need to analyze their concept deeply because everything flows directly from you. 

That’s kind, thank you. And yes, I think that’s true. I’m not a person who intellectualizes everything. Perfumes aren’t about that – you don’t need to identify ingredients to feel something. It’s emotions. A quick reaction. Of course I have ambitions. I would like some of our scents to become classics. For someone in five, ten, fifteen years to say, “Oh, that’s Myrrh Shadow.” I like that vision. My fragrances tell stories; they are not the result of marketing. In fact we don’t even have a marketing department at the company. The people who co-write the perfume descriptions are the same ones who test them with me every day. It’s a very personal brand. And I think people feel that. If someone wants something big and mass-market, they’ll reach for a huge brand. But if they’re looking for something artisanal, made with feeling, we are the answer. 

When creating fragrances, you collaborate with different perfumers. What guides you when choosing collaborators? 

It all started with meeting Raymond Chaillan – the creator of the legendary Opium for Yves Saint Laurent. He opened the door to the world of perfumers for me. In just six months I met many creators, each with their own unique style. I trained a bit then – I wanted to understand the basics. But from the start I had immense respect for the perfumers’ technical knowledge. For me the most important thing, however, is chemistry – not what someone has in their portfolio but who they are as a person. Most perfumers I work with are truly extraordinary people. Take Karine Dubreuil-Sereni, who created our 004 with a tequila note. She is also an opera singer. I once described a scent to her and… she began to sing it. It wasn’t some crazy improvisation but pure expression. I love moments like that. Quentin Bisch? He always surprises. He creates things you don’t expect. That’s real art. Serge de Oliveira is more introverted, mysterious. But when he creates – as with 107 Napa Tuberosa – he does it from the heart. I work both with big names – like Anne Flipo or the mentioned Quentin – and with lesser-known creators. But they must always be artistic souls. Only that really matters to me. 

Your latest scent was created with Quentin Bisch. It bears the mysterious name Myrrh Shadow. Tell us more about it. 

While tidying the basement I found a book that reminded me of One Thousand and One Nights. Suddenly all those tales came back to me: Sinbad, Aladdin…, which were an important part of my childhood. I wanted to capture that feeling – but it wasn’t a specific memory you could “recreate.” It wasn’t rain in a forest. Fortunately I was working with Quentin Bisch at the time – and he did something incredible. He started with vanilla benzoin, which gave the scent warm sweetness and elegance. But he also added a subtle, fresh pepper and basil. I hadn’t told him I wanted the scent to be fresh – but he instinctively sensed the need for contrast. And it worked. The fragrance is intense and yet light. There is magic in that opposition. This scent opens doors to places we have inside us but have forgotten. And that’s what I wanted – to create something that doesn’t speak of a specific moment but allows you to return to it. 

Your Extrait de parfum collection is more intense than classic eaux de parfum. What distinguishes it from other fragrance forms?  

Extrait is the highest concentration of perfume – it usually contains from 25% to 30% fragrance oils, which gives it less alcohol and a more concentrated character. But it’s not only about intensity. It’s also about rare ingredients and a composition that maintains elegance and longevity without overwhelming. It’s not about being stronger – it’s about being deeper, more subtle. Natural ingredients are like good wine – they have more nuances, they are alive, they may vary slightly, but that’s what makes the scent live on the skin.  

You created a brand whose scents were designed from the start to be mixed. Was that planned? 

No. It wasn’t a marketing concept. I simply had a collection – and when you have a collection of scents, it’s natural that something lingers on the scarf, something on the skin. One day you wear a different scent than the day before, and suddenly you notice it works. I thought: since I do this anyway, maybe it’s worth sharing. And from the start I tell customers: “Wear them as you wish. Try it, play with it.” I myself don’t layer scents by applying several on top of each other. But I spray them in different places. One spray on the scarf, one on the right wrist, another on the left. During the day those scents meet and blend. It’s natural, intuitive. And very personal. 

So the end of the day always brings a new composition. 

Always. That’s why from the very beginning I tell customers – have fun. 

Do you have a favorite scent from the collection? 

Yes. Bois Narcotique. For me it’s a breakthrough scent. It comes from a moment when I was walking in the forest after the rain. I smelled something unique – and I knew I wanted to capture it in a bottle. It’s an addictive scent. You want to keep smelling it forever. 

You made a scent inspired by a poker night. You love poker yourself. What attracts you to it? 

Yes – 902. It smells of armagnac and tobacco – it reminds me of that evening. I wanted to capture the tension, the warmth, that kind of conversation that happens while playing. I play for fun. Always with friends, never for large sums. I’m not a gambler. I love playing – everything. And poker is more than a game. It’s emotions. Conversation. Observing people. Poker is a gathering – not just cards. It’s like a performance. 

Perfumes, like poker, are partly a game of emotions. Can a scent bluff? 

Absolutely. Take, for example, Napa Tuberosa from our collection – it’s a scent that looks innocent but surprises. Most people don’t like tuberose – it’s intense, overwhelming, too sweet. I myself was never a fan. But here…it’s a bluff. Because when you smell it you think, “Oh, it will be a classic white-floral note,” and then – bam – jasmine, contrasts, depth appear. I like when a scent doesn’t reveal everything at once. When it has a plot twist. When it surprises. That, to me, is the essence of perfumery – contrast and emotion. And that’s what we try to capture in Bon Parfumeur fragrances. Just like in poker – you never quite know what you’re up against. And that’s exciting. 

If you had to encapsulate your life in one scent – what would it be? 

Vetiver. And maybe something amber, oriental. A blend. It would be sensual, multilayered. Close to the skin. One that lasts but doesn’t dominate. 

What do you like most about your work? 

Freedom. That’s probably the most important thing for me. Everything I create comes intuitively – in dialogue with people I trust. If something works, it’s because it comes from a genuine place. I think that’s why Bon Parfumeur scents are so… light. I don’t create under pressure. I can work at my own pace. And thanks to that the brand has its own rhythm. It’s important to me to keep something irrational in life. Something that doesn’t yield to logic, plan or deadline. That’s the magic of niche – you can afford the luxury of irrationality. Also, I really like the people I work with. I choose people I could go to lunch with after a meeting. That’s my criterion. My CFO has been with me for seven years, the communications director for eight. A company is long-term. And if you find what’s yours and people who share it, you can create something exceptional. And without stress.