Izabela Bossi, Notorious Stories

1. You’ve said your love for perfume began in your aunt’s boutique. What do you remember most vividly from those early days—was it the scents, the rituals, or the magic of that little world?

It was all of it—the scents, yes, but also the silences between them.

I remember the hush of curiosity in clients’ eyes as they inhaled something beautiful for the first time.

My aunt’s boutique wasn’t just a shop—it was a small universe where fragrances whispered stories, rituals held reverence, and I, a child in awe, realized how invisible things can move us so deeply.

2. Notorious Stories feels so personal and poetic. When you create a scent, are you thinking more about memory, mood, or story? Where does the idea usually begin?

Always with a story—but not one already told.
It begins with a quiet emotion, a forgotten texture, or sometimes the sound of a cello vibrating through a concert hall. There’s a mysterious overlap between music and scent—both are invisible, but they inhabit us completely.
From there, I craft a mood, a memory, and finally, a fragrance that becomes an invitation to feel.

3. You’ve mentioned artists like Matisse and Picasso as inspirations. Do you think there’s a link between how we experience color and how we experience scent?

There’s no doubt. Color, like scent, is an emotion made visible—or invisible.
The yellow of a mimosa, the blue of the Mediterranean, the crimson of a rose in full bloom—all have a scent, even when we can’t name it.
Sometimes, I close my eyes and imagine what Matisse’s Dance would smell like—movement, liberation, and citrus blossoms under the sun.

4. You split your time between cultures—Romanian roots, Italian family, a global perspective. How does that mix show up in your work, or even in your everyday life?

I carry my Romanian roots like a fragrant shawl—woven with traditions, folklore, and deep connections to nature.
Italy gave me the elegance of slowness, the poetry of simplicity.
Our home life is a gentle dance between the two: espresso in the morning, Romanian movies at night, and olive trees stretching toward a golden sky.

5. When you're not creating or running events, where do you go to feel most like yourself? Is it a forest walk, a quiet museum, a spa weekend... or something completely unexpected?

I feel most like myself in the quiet corners of life: among the scent-soaked halls of a museum or walking alone through a forest after rain.
And always, with music in my ears—philharmonic concerts are a deep part of my soul.
I often sit in silence after a performance, letting the last note linger inside me the same way a perfume lingers on skin.

6. Your wedding to Renzo Bossi was so beautifully understated—art, intimacy, elegance. How did the two of you make it your own, especially balancing public attention with personal meaning?

Our wedding was a quiet celebration of everything that defines us—art, nature, and authenticity—and we didn’t want anything loud or extravagant.
Instead, we were surrounded by close family, classical music, and flowers picked by Renzo on his small farm just outside of town.
That place, where we care for animals and live in close contact with the land, felt like a sacred refuge.
It was intimate, tender, and deeply ours.

7. Being close to a political family, do you ever feel drawn to bigger conversations—like using scent and storytelling to bridge cultures or bring people together in quieter, more human ways?

Absolutely—and yet, I’ve always believed in the power of soft influence.
Politics may shape policy, but scent can shape perception.
Fragrance bypasses language, borders, and belief systems—it speaks directly to memory, emotion, and identity.
In my own way, through scent and storytelling, I try to create bridges: between cultures, between past and present, and most of all, between people.
There is diplomacy in tenderness, in the shared experience of beauty.