Welcome to Scentrified Interviews, where I explore the stories, inspirations, and dreams of selected people from the perfume industry – people who have truly dedicated their life to the pursuit of scentual excellence. Happy reading!
Andrea Alessandri and Adam Cavallari, co-founders of Jijide.
There’s something disarming about Jijide. A kind of openness – not naïve, but curious. When co-founders Adam Cavallari and Andrea Alessandri talk about their Dialogo collection, the word freedom comes up again and again. Not as a slogan, but as a necessary condition: that perfume should still be allowed to surprise its own creator.
The perfumers in this collection are all under 30. Not as a “young talent spotlight,” not to make the brand feel fresh or fashionable. The point was to invite voices who live inside the world they want to express. “Authenticity,” they say. People not yet shaped by commercial caution. People who don’t feel the need to make things trendy or universally liked.
“If we’re always thinking about trends, we lose the opportunity to connect with people”
There is a vulnerability in that. Younger creators bring instinct and rawness, and they are also learning how to articulate what they mean. So the process became collaborative in a very intimate way. First the concept, then the formula. This is how freedom was kept from dissolving into chaos – the story acted as the frame, the architecture the perfume could grow inside.
Sometimes that story was difficult.
Take the collaboration between close friends Boris and Adill. One a perfumer, the other a chef. One shy, one persuasive. With Fuoco, the scent began with memory: a puffer jacket that held cigarette smoke, cold air, and the warmth of someone who is no longer alive. The other scent, Terra, began with a calm sunset, warm air and conversation that finds its way back.
Disagreements obviously followed. Not only about materials. About meaning. How do you translate grief without falling into nostalgia? How do you capture evening relief without slipping into cliché? But the friction did not break the work. It clarified it and revealed what the perfumes wanted to say.
The Jijide line-up presented at Polaris Olfactive in Stockholm, 2025.
This kind of dialogue only works because the project stretches across cultures. Different countries have different emotional reference points – which fragrance notes feel “comforting,” which feel “clean,” which feel “dangerous.” Rather than resolve those differences, Jijide let them co-exist. Conflict wasn’t something to avoid – it was the material. The perfume becomes a meeting point, not a conclusion.
Even the bottles tell this story.
In the Personalità collection, color expressed mood. You choose which “self” you want to wear that day. The bottle announces it. The scent is a character stepping into the room.
In Dialogo, the bottles become quiet. Clear glass. Engraving instead of a label. No distractions.
The perfume doesn’t perform – it reveals.
And throughout all of this, there’s a steady and gentle refusal to chase trends. Yes, rice notes are everywhere lately. But Riso wasn’t shaped by trend forecasting – it came from working closely with a Chinese perfumer to explore the soft humidity of steamed rice, something textural rather than sentimental. A note that stays close to the skin, like warmth rather than memory.
Connection isn’t always soft. Sometimes people reject the perfume entirely. Dentro is one of those divisive scents – praised, argued over, misunderstood, adored. And occasionally, cultural bias surfaces… assumptions about quality or identity that sit just beneath the language of fragrance criticism. Those moments are jarring, but also clarifying.
“Some people seem to think Made in China means bad quality, but that’s simply not true. In Italy, we’ve been forced to show our faces for people to see that we’re Europeans.”
And then something else happens:
In China, Grano is beloved. What people find in it there is not what many Europeans find. Their reading is different, and it is equally true. Perfume travels through bodies and experience, not instructions. It does not need to be understood the same way to be real.
My interpretation of Fuoco – check out my post on Instagram.
A few months ago I happened to be stuck in an elevator with Adam and five others. No air conditioning. A scorching French heat wave. Ninety minutes of anxiety. So at the end of our interview I had to ask which perfume they would choose to wear if that happened again.
No one hesitated.
Andrea chose Oltre. “Because it is calm, and it makes space.” An instinct toward softness. Adam chose Terra. “To cover the sweat.” A light answer that still explained everything.
Because after all, perfume is how we stay human in close quarters.
How we share ourselves and communicate without speaking.
How we make room for each other, even when the room is small.
Adam and Andrea, co-founders of Jijide, in Stockholm, November 2025.
Bonus question – if you had to match a Jijide scent with a film, which one would you choose and why?
ANDREA:
A movie that is deeply connected to my life is Nuovo Cinema Paradiso. It reminds me that childhood memories and teachings, distant in time but rich in sensory detail, are my own treasure. I always get emotional at the end, yet my personal story is happy. The Jijide fragrance that matches this is Shao Guan. Magnolia is the scent of the gardens from my childhood.
ADAM:
The English Patient. There is a love scene during a Christmas party in the desert that has stayed with me (you can watch it here). Ralph Fiennes and Kristin Scott Thomas make love while the celebration unfolds around them. Throughout the film, sweat is a recurring presence, but in this moment, it reaches its peak. It feels unmatched, not only in this film but in cinema as a whole. The Jijide perfume I associate with that scene is Terra.
PS. Don’t forget to follow me @scentrified and @jijide.milano on Instagram. And if you’d like to see your boutique, brand or perhaps yourself on the blog, please send an email and let’s talk!
