A winter’s night, a fleeting romance, encapsulated in a fragrance that lingers like a memory too beautiful to fade.

In the thirties ski was a new-born sport reserved for a reducedsocial elite, In those days, St. Moritz has already become the popular place for the European aristocracy ad one of its habitual visitors was Albert Fouquet, a Parisian aristocrat with an exquisite sensibility to create in his château the most admirable fragrances.

Fouquet was invited to the home of his friend Nicolas where he was looked after by a charming tailor who went from Megève to Paris every year to visit his best clients and to provide them with custom-made ski clothes for the season. While taking measurements, there would be an engaging conversation in which the tailor and Nicolas recounted to Fouquet the delights of Megève. Fouquet already knew that the Baroness Maurice of Rothschild had recently decided to create a luxury ski resort in Megève that had more discretion than those in the Swiss Alps.

Some months later, Albert Fouquet was encourage to accept an invitation from Nicolas to a pre-Chistmas dinner he would be hosting in Megève.

These dinners organised by Nicolas, whether in Cap Ferrat, in Megève or in his Paris château, were well known and sought after among the high society. The secret of these one-off and memorable parties arranged by Nicolas lay un the rigorous selection of their guests: intellectuals, diplomats, businessmen, elegant women, young artists, etc., all having a sufficient degree of vivacity and allure to guarantee a night of enjoyment.

On his first day in Megève, having spent a strenuous time on the ski slopes, Fouquet began what was going to be the most magical night he had ever dreamed about. On entering his friend’s house, he saw the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Nicolas did not delay in introducing him to Annicke, a young Austrian girl who was the daughter of a banker and a Hungarian noblewoman.

Her striking emerald green eyes and her constant smile radiated unparalleled serenity and tenderness. Her height and her deliberate gestures formed part of her natural elegance and her long, black dress set off with discreet jewellery was the epitome of excellent taste.

Albert Fouquet had the good fortune to spend the whole evening with Annicke. Hours of conversation beside the fireplace, laughter and dancing, led to a firm promise to meet again within the next few months.

On his return to Paris, Fouquet wanted to hold on to his memories of that evening without forgetting any part of the magic of Megève: the smell of the mountain air and the wood burning in the fireplace, the ambience created by that exclusive party. He knew that the best way of keeping them alive would be to transform all this into an exquisite aroma that only his extraordinary talent would be able to achieve. Thus, a new creation of Albert Fouquet was born: Nuit de Megève.