Sillage is the French word for the scent that lingers in a room after you have left it. We compose extrait de parfum at full concentration — no fillers, no synthetic musk to stretch the formula — so that what stays behind is unmistakably, only, you. Eleven compositions. Each one macerated for six months before it is ever bottled.
We buy from the houses that supply the grandes maisons — and from the fields directly
A house measured in patience, not in advertising.
Every Sillage is built as a pyramid — the top notes that greet you, the heart that defines the wear, the base that becomes your skin by evening. Six of the eleven are shown here. Each is offered in a 50ml extrait and a 2ml discovery vial.
Haitian vetiver smoked over guaiac wood, lit by pink pepper and grounded in a dry, ashen cedar. The base most clients return to. Worn warmest after the eighth hour.
Tunisian neroli and orange blossom absolute over a clean petitgrain, dried down with a whisper of white musk. The lightest thing we make, and the hardest to compose.
A suede-soft birch-tar leather laced with saffron and styrax, warmed by a labdanum that turns almost edible on skin. Quiet from a distance, feral up close.
Six years of aged orris butter — the most expensive material in perfumery — over a cold violet leaf and a base of suede and grey ambrette. Restraint, made wearable.
A real Assam oud, not a reconstruction, set against rose de mai absolute and a drop of incense. Built to last from morning to the next morning.
The whole fig tree — sap, leaf, milky fruit, bark — rendered green and shaded, finished in a sun-warm sandalwood. The scent of a Mediterranean afternoon, bottled.
Most fragrance sold as parfum is eau de parfum in a heavier bottle — 12 to 15% aromatic oil, stretched with synthetic musk so it projects loudly and fades by lunch. We do the opposite.
Every Sillage is dosed between 24 and 30% pure aromatic compound — true extrait de parfum. It is worn close to the skin, lasts the day, and never announces itself across a room.
Once composed, each batch rests in darkness for half a year so the materials marry. Bottled too early, a perfume smells like a list of ingredients. Aged, it smells like one thing.
We build on real orris, oud, jasmine sambac, and vetiver — then reach for a synthetic molecule only when nature cannot give us what the composition needs. Never to cut cost.
Without loud musks to flatten it, a Sillage reads differently on every wearer. The drydown is half the formula and half your chemistry. That is the point.
When a material is restricted or its harvest fails, we retire the scent rather than swap in a cheaper substitute and keep the name. The bottle you love will always smell the way it did.
There is no fragrance committee at Sillage and no brief written by a marketing team. Every composition is authored at the organ by Camille Renaud, trained in Grasse, and signed only when she would wear it herself.
Four years at the bench in the perfume capital of the world, learning the naturals palette before ever touching a synthetic — and the patience that the craft actually requires.
A perfumer's organ of more than 240 materials, weighed to the hundredth of a gram. Most compositions take eighty to two hundred trials before the formula is sealed.
Nothing leaves the atelier on a deadline. A scent is released when the nose judges it finished — sometimes a year late, never a season early.
We buy our jasmine, rose, and tuberose by the season directly from the fields in Grasse and Provence, so the absolute in your bottle is traceable to the year it was picked.
Start with vials, settle on a signature, or commission something that exists only on your skin. Every order ships from the Montréal atelier, packed by hand.
The whole library, in miniature.
A full bottle of the one you keep returning to.
A scent composed for you and no one else.
“I have worn the same designer scent for a decade and stopped smelling it years ago. Noir de Vétiver is the first thing strangers have asked me about since university. It lasts on me until I take it off at night.”
“The discovery set ruined the perfume counter for me. Nothing there is dosed like this. Iris Cendré is the only powdery scent I have found that does not turn to soap by noon.”
“My bespoke took seven months and three trials. Camille kept refusing to release it until the drydown was right. The result smells like it was always mine — I cannot describe it any other way.”
Concentration. Eau de parfum carries roughly 12–15% aromatic oil and is built to project loudly and fade within hours. Our extrait runs 24–30% — it sits closer to the skin, develops slowly, and lasts the entire day. You wear far less, and what you wear is the whole composition rather than a diluted sketch of it.
Because extrait reveals itself over hours and changes by the third wearing. The vials are blind-coded so you judge the scent, not the name on it, and the $60 is credited toward your first full bottle. Almost no one chooses the scent they expected to.
A 50ml extrait, worn with the two-point ritual we recommend, lasts most people a year or more — extrait is dabbed, not sprayed by the handful. The flacon is refillable, so when it runs out you replace the oil, not the bottle.
Both, deliberately. We build on real naturals — orris, oud, jasmine sambac, vetiver, rose de mai — and reach for a synthetic molecule only when nature cannot supply what a composition needs, never to lower the cost. Every formula lists its key materials honestly.
Naturals vary by harvest, so two batches a year apart will never be molecularly identical — that is the honest reality of working with real materials. But we do not reformulate. If a material is restricted or its crop fails, we retire the composition rather than substitute a cheaper one and keep the name.
It begins with a consultation — in the Montréal atelier or by video — where the nose maps your tastes, your skin, and the memory you want to wear. Over roughly six months she composes, you test three formal trials on your own skin, and the finished formula is sealed in your name and made for no one else.
Start with six vials and three days of wearing. Most people arrive certain of what they want and leave wearing something they had never heard of. The discovery set ships within the week, packed by hand in Montréal.