With Topaz, perfumer Vincent Ricord brings a luminous new chapter to Kajal’s story. Guided by instinct and shaped through moments of inspiration, the fragrance captures both vitality and depth, a reflection of his distinctive approach to creation.

In this exclusive conversation, Vincent Ricord shares his journey from Grasse to the laboratory, offering an intimate glimpse into the artistry that continues to define his work.

To begin, was there a moment when you felt drawn to perfumery, or did that sense of purpose unfold more gradually, shaped by experience over time?

Luckily, I come from a city in the South of France, called Grasse, and by chance there were many members of my family involved in the fragrance industry – the only one not involved in fragrance was my dad. My brother ran a fragrance company, my cousins were perfumers and my grandfather used to be in charge of a huge fragrance company. I often had the chance to experience the music of discussions among my family, as they would argue about which field of roses was the best one in Grasse, and which fragrance was the best of the year, and everything else related to fragrance. Eventually I knew more and more about the existence of perfumery, and that is how it all began.

Each fragrance you’ve created has its own rhythm, its own sense of identity. Does the process still surprise you, or bring moments that feel refreshingly unfamiliar?

That is right, I’ve got this feeling of having a rhythm with the fragrances and trying to have a kind of synergy with them. I don’t know if I shared this information with Moe, but I was not really comfortable at school, not because I didn’t appreciate school or because studying was something I wasn’t involved in – but because I am dyslexic. For me, it was not a problem, but for my teacher it was. The result was that the more I was not comfortable with the school method, the more I had to seek ways to find my own logic, and I arrived there when I was 14 years old at a fragrance company where my cousin worked as a perfumer.

It was in 1993, and when I arrived in the laboratory, I discovered all those little bottles everywhere, with really strange names – like something from a sci-fi movie. It was so unusual and looked very complex – we have a French word, “Bordel” – meaning something is a mess – and having a mess in front of me was totally in connection with the mess I had in my mind. So I was really comfortable in this not-so-easy-to-learn environment, because there is no method to learn the job of perfumer, and so it was really interesting for me.

Thinking of that, every day I found my own way to compose, and to feel comfortable by adding and mixing, and trying to explore accords in my fragrances. I feel like in my process I need a riff, just like in music when you’re trying to compose a song in a rock & roll band – if you don’t have a strong riff, you won’t be able to hold it, or keep it in mind. With the fragrances I try to find a nice riff, to share with everyone – it’s my way of composing.

Topaz began from a conversation between friends, simply sharing personal experiences, a warm, vibrant moment that sparked something beautiful. What do you recall most vividly from that exchange, and how did it shape the direction the fragrance took?

Topaz is exactly that, the result of a nice moment and discussion with a friend. Moe and I were in my office, trying to explore a more classical way of composing. I’d worked on some ideas and had some direction, I presented them to him, and then we brainstormed  together. Finally, we left all those fragrances behind us, and began chatting, eventually losing the topic of the initial discussion.

I feel this is something you are only able to do with someone you’re totally comfortable with. I was totally confident with Moe, and the way he was open – not judging if the direction was good or bad. It was a really nice moment, sharing ideas and deciding to see what would happen.

We went to the lab, I shared with him some of my “riffs” in bottles, raw materials that could one day become finished fragrances. Normally it’s hard to share those, because when something isn’t finished, not yet a polished fragrance, it may have some elements that are not so lovely – a little bit like discovering a diamond within rock. But, because it was Moe, and he’s a good friend, I felt at ease showing him some of the ideas that I had in bottles, and we began to play with them, mixing them together to see what would happen – and that is how Topaz was created.

Translating something as intangible as connection into scent is a delicate thing. Did you begin with a clear emotion in mind, or did the fragrance evolve more intuitively as you composed it?

This is a delicate thing, but this is my passion. I really feel that when you’re a perfumer, it is exactly the same as when you paint or write or produce something – it needs to be just right. A lot of perfumers say the same thing, about turning an emotion into a fragrance, but honestly, because of my childhood I feel very comfortable turning an untouchable emotion into something that I appreciate the most.

When you draw something for example, if you say you’re going to draw a cat, and it doesn’t look quite right – it could be a little disturbing. But, if it’s well done, everyone will understand. Another example would be if you decided to admire a Turner painting, and attempt to turn the emotion you felt from watching the painting into a fragrance - it is already a difficult emotion to describe, but you have to allow yourself to lose control as a perfumer – to be able to compose something which is nice to smell. This alone is not enough though, we must set a proposition of what we’ll have in the bottle being able to bring you to the exact mood you wanted people to feel when you were thinking about composing the fragrance.

With Topaz, it’s the result of a discussion I had with Moe. We’d shared thoughts about experiences, about colours, flavours and mood. The more I shared with Moe, the clearer the direction became. So, to answer the question, it was not as clear as a perfect finished fragrance in my mind, but what was clear is that it was the direction of what I wanted the emotion of the fragrance to be.

Were there moments along the way when Topaz surprised you, perhaps something that changed your direction, or shaped the fragrance in a way you hadn’t quite expected?

When composing Topaz, something that surprised me was that we had two fragrances that could each work on their own. On one side we had a really fizzy, surprising black lemon signature, and on the other side Moe found a fruity floral accord I’d composed that was quite the opposite. Finally, it was Moe who composed the fragrance because he asked what would happen if we were to mix them together and see what would happen. We did it, and Topaz happened.

There is a comforting warmth in Topaz that stays close, enduring and full of presence. Was there a feeling you hoped would remain with the wearer, long after the fragrance had settled?

What lasts in Topaz, for me, is the soul of the fragrance. This fragrance is generous, with a lot of character, and that’s what I feel stays – with a lot of dry woods and amber, it’s really addictive. It’s not gourmand, it’s not sweet, it’s like a musk that’s been dropped in little rocks of sugar. It’s something really unusual for me, because I’ve never explored this kind of addiction before. I have two moods when I wear Topaz on my skin – generosity and strong character.

Topaz feels both luminous and grounded, light in spirit, but with depth beneath it. How did you approach that balance, and is contrast something you enjoy exploring in your work?

The contrast in Topaz is key to its world. I am really happy that people have observed the duality in the fragrance. It really is a strong contrast because ultimately, to discover whether something is really sweet, the best way is to complement it with something bitter. Similarly, if you want something soft, you have to experience the total contrary. Here the contrast is between the zesty, volatile opening of Topaz, and the deep, strong woody notes, with the sweet, warming dry notes, fighting in the fragrance - but in a good way. This is the definition of a vibrant fragrance for me.

Some creations are shaped not only by inspiration, but by the people we share the process with, through conversation, connection, or even a passing remark. Do relationships often influence the way you create, or was Topaz an exception in that sense?

Topaz is unique because it is the result of a special connection I have with Kajal – I really appreciate that. When I work alone, I create fragrances by myself, I explore different directions, and polish the fragrance to be 99.9 percent finished and ready to use. These fragrances are 100 percent my taste, and represent my identity. I always wish that they'll liked and well received, and while I am not able to share the recipe for success, I am grateful because sometimes these fragrances meet success.

The fragrances I had the opportunity to compose with brands gave me the chance to form strong bonds, and those fragrances have something more than those I have created alone. All of those became richer in the end – I don’t mean in intensity or complexity, but they are brought to another level of incarnation. This is not always the way I work, but it is definitely the way I prefer to work.

Beyond the lab, are there places, moments, or rituals that help you reconnect with creativity? What tends to nourish your imagination when you step away from scent itself?

Creativity is something that you have to feed. Composing fragrances – like many creative specialities – is something that brings you to heaven when you achieve the idea you had in mind. Not only can you surprise yourself, but the feeling that there might be someone who will discover your fragrance and fall in love with it is incredible – that’s what we are working for. It happens, but sadly it doesn’t happen all the time. Sometimes directions are not as good as we hoped they’d be, sometimes trials are just not interesting enough, sometimes there can be frustration because we want to express something and it doesn’t happen.

To clear my mind and come back with fresh motivation, to go further as a perfumer, I need to do something else entirely. I am lucky because when I was a kid, I used to draw a lot and also play a lot of music too, and when I became a young adult, I had to choose what to follow, to build my life around. I knew about composing fragrances so chose to do it, and finally I became a perfumer – but I also wanted to become a professional musician, and for my entire life I have loved drawing. So luckily, I compose fragrances from Monday to Friday, and at night-time and weekends I draw – which helps me a lot, it clears my mind and allows me to have another view, another approach to creativity. I also play a lot of music, it really helps me. I have my instruments in my office – when people hear me playing music it means that I need to take a breath, to clear my mind and be ready to start again.