For Cercle Sportif, I pictured a sun-drenched Saigon club where laughter carried over tennis courts and the air smelled of citrus cocktails and freshly cut grass. I imagined it green, sparkling, alive - like peeling a mandarin by the poolside, fingers sticky with mint.

I wanted the fragrance to hold nostalgia without heaviness: crisp cologne against sun-warmed skin, the quiet elegance of linen meeting the ease of summer. The opening burst of citrus is the ping of a tennis ball at dawn; the suede and myrrh in the drydown linger like the memory of a perfect afternoon. To me, Cercle Sportif is proof that true luxury isn’t about owning things, it’s about owning the moment.