In Balenciaga Paris, we find the first moments of april, floral breezes and blossoms from milder days. A spring-like feel: airy dresses and fleeting glances. A bouquet of violets also has an old-fashioned tone, the antique charm of a few dried petals that we find between the pages of a book by colette, traces of memories, the work of art so fine that is the past. But soon, a peppery note reveals itself and swells over calm, mossy wood. Foliage that breathes in the secret hours of night. Then, another more nocturnal facet of nature expresses itself. A sensuality becomes clearer. The shadowy color of the liquid within already says something of its mystery.