Think of this fragrance as sitting somewhere between Dom Rosa by Liquides Imaginaires, with its rose-tinted sparkle, and Mémoire de Roses by L'Artisan Parfumeur, with its soft, golden hush—while Letters I Never Sent leans more personal, like a secret kept warm. It opens with a bright fizz of champagne and a bite of pear—light, fleeting, a little wistful. Then the rose arrives, soft and full, edged with pink pepper and the quiet curl of incense. In the drydown, sandalwood and amber glow like a memory that refuses to fade. The scent feels like an unfinished sentence—tender, weightless, and meant for someone who never heard it.

Reading an old message at 2 a.m. and not replying, A hug you remember more than the person, Dreaming of someone you haven’t met yet, That quiet floaty feeling when it rains and you don’t want to be anywhere else.

Some feelings don’t arrive all at once. They drift in slowly—like the smell of rain before it falls, or a song that reminds you of someone you never really knew. Letters I Never Sent is about the almosts. The quiet what-ifs. A pause before hitting “send” that lasted years. It’s not about heartbreak—it’s about everything that gently slipped through the cracks. It lingers like a thought you didn’t mean to have, a name you don’t say out loud anymore, a memory that still feels warm even though the moment is long gone. It’s soft, honest, a little blurry around the edges. Like something you carry, without even realizing it.

Because some feelings are too heavy to speak, too delicate to send. This name holds all the unsaid things—the almosts, the maybes, the goodbyes that never made it to paper. It’s a quiet ache, a soft memory. A fragrance made of words you still carry in your heart.

Best worn on brunch dates, casual hangouts, late-night walks, or first meets—anytime you want to feel tender, nostalgic and unforgettable.