London, with its polluted air and frenetic pace.

That's where my eczema and hives started appearing on my face, my emotional barometer.

Every morning, I would cover up the redness that reminded me of my anxieties. Until one day, everything stopped: lockdown, remote working... and an unavoidable confrontation with my skin.

I deconstructed my routines, unlearned, relearned.

By making my own lotions and creams, I rediscovered the richness of plant oils. And my skin finally calmed down.

But one detail remained. I spent hours creating skincare products that really mattered to me... only to end up putting them in anonymous plastic jars. Disconnected from meaning, beauty, and the value of the gesture.

So I imagined the bottle my skincare products deserved. Inspired by my mother's antique powder compacts, the lines of Paris, and the poetry of beautiful materials.

To make it, the obvious choice was clear: the Waltersperger workshop, France's last semi-artisanal glassmaker, certified as a French Living Heritage Company. Meeting these artisans was a catalyst. Their rare, endangered expertise touched me deeply. When a craft of excellence disappears, it is a piece of the world's beauty that is no longer passed on.