There’s an old French song titled Je t’aime à la folie by Serge Lama. Another Serge with a microphone, the other being Gainsbourg of course. It’s quite easy to learn this song. He repeats himself over and over again — je t’aime à la folie, je t’aime à la folie, je t’aime à la folie.
To love à la folie means to love truly, to love deeply, to love madly. It may be forever or only for a moment, but for however long it is, it is wonderful. Have you experienced this sensation, when love is at its height, at its most powerful? Some may call it ecstasy but I prefer madness. A sort of lâcher prise where you give yourself over fully to love like you’re capable of doing anything for it. All at once you feel as though time has stopped and yet that centuries could pass in the blink of an eye.
If you’re lucky to experience this once in your life then you know it is a moment you want to hold onto forever. To savor and treasure, to revisit it again and again in memory. A metaphysical place that you yearn to return to, with the perfect companion ideally. It may seem indescribable, but like a kind of synesthesia for each of us this madness may have a color? A sound? A scent?
Like vibrant fresh cut roses thrown to the wind, the strength of wood, the sweet musky scent of vanilla, the fieriness of patchouli. What if these all converged to form a sensual and addictive love story, compressed to form a dazzling gem encapsulating that moment of madness. This is La Nuit Trésor À La Folie, a new jewel in the Trésor fragrance family that is the most thrilling scent yet.
I wish I could say otherwise but it’s been a while since I felt that folie, that thrill, a moment to let go in love and get swept away in it all. If ever there were a scene set for a love story, then Paris is surely it. But lately though the cast seems to be incomplete, and plenty of work lined up for myself to fill the time, they might have taken to romance a girl like me. I needed an escape, a release, and moment to let go and feel alive.
So I reached for this dazzling new jewel on my vanity and headed out into the night. As I sprayed À la folie through my hair and on my décolletage a little bit of that madness came over me. I inhaled, closed my eyes and let go, losing myself in the night, if only for a minute. As I opened them I could have sworn I heard those words whispered in my ear. And I did, coming from the cafe down the street. It was Serge Lama on the radio singing again... je t’aime à la folie, je t’aime à la folie, je t’aime à la folie.