Last month, we were lucky enough to host renowned brand-owner, perfumer, and multi-disciplinary artist Pissara Umavijani, founder and owner of Dusita, at our boutique for a wonderful event filled with personal stories, inspirations, and anecdotes about her emblematic, profound, and deeply personal fragrances. In an effort to share this wonderful experience with our online community and those who could not get a ticket, and to further the experience of those who attended, we have made available this Question & Answer interview between Pissara and Fumerie founder and owner, Tracy Tsefalas. We hope you enjoy what we consider one of our best Q & A’s to date!
Tracy • Can you describe the experience of moving from Thailand to Paris? I imagine there were both challenges as well as triumphs.
Pissara • When I moved from Thailand to Paris, I did not realize I was also moving from one version of myself to another. Thailand is not just where I was born. It is warmth, family, familiarity, the scent of jasmine in the evening air. It is the sound of voices overlapping at dinner. It is sunlight that feels generous. Leaving that behind felt like leaving part of my skin. Paris was beautiful, but it was also silent in a different way. I remember walking along the Seine alone, feeling very small under the gray sky. I did not yet belong to the city. The language felt formal. The rhythm felt disciplined. I had moments where I missed home so much it felt physical. There were evenings when I questioned everything. Why am I here? Am I strong enough to build something in a place where I am not from? But Paris slowly opened itself to me. I began to see poetry in its restraint. I discovered beauty in subtlety. I learned patience. I learned structure. I learned that elegance can be quiet. In time, I understood that I was not meant to replace one culture with another. I was meant to weave them together. Thailand gave me emotion and generosity. Paris gave me refinement and discipline. Dusita was born from that meeting point.
T • Thailand has a history of perfuming a variety of items, such as food and clothing. Was this part of your own personal upbringing and experience?
P • Scent in Thailand is not separated from life. It is everywhere, and it is intimate.
As a child, I remember jasmine garlands placed in the house. The smell of flowers floating in bowls of water. The softness of scented powder on skin. The herbal scent of balms when someone was unwell. The quiet smoke of incense in temples. Even laundry drying under the sun had a smell that meant comfort. Even food carried layers of aroma that felt alive. Lemongrass crushed under a knife. Coconut milk simmering. Fresh basil torn by hand. No one told me this was “olfactory education.” It was simply living.
Looking back, I realize that those small daily rituals shaped the way I feel about perfume. For me, scent is not decoration. It is emotion. It is memory. It is care. When I create a fragrance, I am not trying to impress. I am trying to recreate that feeling of being held by an atmosphere.
T • Your father, Montri Umavijani, passed along his love of perfumery, poetry, and nature. With the birth of your own daughter, have you intentionally continued those same values with her?
P • Becoming a mother changed my understanding of time in a way I could never have imagined.
Before my daughter, time felt linear. Projects, launches, deadlines, ambitions. I was always looking ahead. There was always something to achieve. When she was born, everything slowed down.
Suddenly, I became aware of how fragile and precious each moment is. The way she sleeps. The way she holds my finger. The way she laughs without hesitation. These are small things, but they feel infinite.
I also began to understand my own parents more deeply. The sacrifices. The quiet worries. The hopes they never said out loud. Time became softer, but also more urgent. I realized that success means nothing if you are not present. Now, when I work, I work with focus. But when I am with her, I try to truly be there.
She also changed the way I create. There is more tenderness in me now. More awareness that what we build is not only for today, but for what remains after us. Having a daughter made me understand that legacy is not only business. It is the values you pass on. Kindness. Strength. Sensitivity. And most of all, it made me understand that time is the most precious material of all. More rare than any raw ingredient I use in perfume.
T • Each fragrance comes with a poem written by your father. How do you choose which poem partners with which fragrance?
P • Choosing the poem for each fragrance is one of the most intimate parts of my creative process.
My father did not write his poetry for perfume. He wrote about life, about love, about nature, about quiet moments that most people overlook. So when I sit with his books, I am not looking for a “matching theme.” I am listening for a feeling. Sometimes it happens very naturally. I finish composing a fragrance, and when I read his poems, one line suddenly feels alive in the same way the perfume feels alive. It is not logical. It is emotional. The rhythm of the words and the rhythm of the scent begin to speak to each other. Other times, it begins with the poem. I read a verse, and something opens in my imagination. I see light, color, texture. I feel a certain temperature in the air. That feeling slowly transforms into notes and accords.
I do not choose based on ingredients. I choose based on soul.
There are moments when I sit quietly with a finished formula and ask myself, what would my father feel if he smelled this? Would it resonate with his words? Would it honor his spirit? If the answer feels true in my heart, then I know I have found the right pairing. Including his poetry in Dusita is more than a tribute. It is a continuation of our dialogue. Even though he is no longer physically here, through his poems, he still walks beside me in every creation. Sometimes, when clients read the poem and become emotional, I feel a deep gratitude. It means that his words continue to travel, to touch, to breathe. For me, perfume and poetry are very similar. Both are invisible. Both cannot be held in your hands. But both can change your heart. Choosing his poems is never a marketing decision. It is always a daughter listening to her father, and answering him in scent.
T • Your inspired fragrances reflect your admiration for both Thailand and Paris. As you reflect on the Dusita collection, is there a clear evolution of your life told through your creations?
P • When I look at the Dusita collection from the beginning until now, I truly see my own journey inside it.
In the early years, I was full of passion and also a quiet urgency. I had something to prove, mostly to myself. I was a young Thai woman launching a perfume house in Paris, surrounded by brands with long histories and strong financial backing. I felt I needed to show intensity, depth, and complexity. The early compositions were bold in emotion. Very expressive. They carried a lot of my inner fire.
At that time, I was building everything at once. Identity, credibility, distribution, confidence. The perfumes reflected that energy. They were rich, sometimes dramatic, sometimes very layered. I was discovering my voice while speaking at full volume. As the years passed, my life changed. I became more grounded. I opened the boutique. I became a mother. I built long-term relationships with clients and partners. I learned that I did not need to speak loudly to be heard. The fragrances slowly became more refined, more transparent in structure, more precise. Not simpler in quality, but clearer in intention. I started trusting subtlety more. I allowed space in the compositions. Silence can be beautiful in perfume, just like in music.
There is also emotional evolution. In the beginning, I was very driven by memory and homage. Now I am equally inspired by the present moment. By the way light falls in Paris in winter. By the laughter of my daughter. By conversations with clients in the boutique. Dusita today feels calmer, more confident. It is no longer trying to enter the room. It belongs in the room. But one thing has never changed. Every fragrance still begins with emotion. I cannot create without feeling something deeply first.
T • My first encounter meeting you took place back in 2016 in Florence, Italy, at the Pitti Fragranze Conference. I recall coming across your fragrances (only three in all) and stopping short while smelling your lovely scent “Oudh Infini.” I was struck by the depth, beauty, and singular voice of this lovely fragrance. I understand that this is no longer being offered in your selection. Why was it removed?
P • Oudh Infini will always have a special place in my heart because it represents a very early chapter of Dusita. When I created it, I was fascinated by intensity. I wanted to explore depth and darkness in a way that felt elegant, not heavy. Oudh can be very challenging. It can dominate. I wanted to interpret it with refinement and smoothness, almost like velvet. At Esxence in 2016, when people responded so strongly to it, I felt a wave of relief. It was one of the first moments when I thought, maybe this dream can survive. But over time, many factors influence a fragrance’s life. Regulations evolve. Raw materials change. The availability and quality of certain ingredients are not always the same. And sometimes, as a house grows, you begin to feel that certain creations belong to a specific moment in your personal evolution. Letting it go was not easy. It felt like closing a chapter. But I believe a perfume house must stay coherent. Every fragrance should represent who you are now, not only who you were. Oudh Infini was powerful, intense, and perhaps a little dramatic, like I was in those early years. Today, my style has softened in some ways. I still love richness, but I seek balance and light more than before. I do not see its discontinuation as a loss. I see it as part of the natural rhythm of creation. Some fragrances are like early poems. They carry raw emotion. They remain important, even if they are no longer printed. And I am grateful it existed, because it helped Dusita stand up in its very first steps.
T • Early rejections when starting out as a perfumer must have been challenging. What was that like and what within you pushed to continue to strive for your dream?
P • When I speak about early rejections, it was not only buyers. It was also suppliers, partners, even people within the industry who did not fully understand what I was trying to build. In the beginning, I was very small. I did not order large quantities. I did not have impressive numbers. Some suppliers were hesitant to work with me because my volumes were modest. Others were cautious because I was independent and unknown. There were moments when I felt I had to prove that I was serious, that I was not just “trying something.”
I remember sending emails and waiting anxiously for replies that never came. I remember feeling embarrassed asking for small quantities of precious materials. There is a certain vulnerability in saying, “This is all I can order for now.” As a creative person, it was difficult. I was not negotiating from a position of power. I was negotiating from passion. And then there were practical obstacles. Minimum order quantities. Payment terms. Regulatory changes. Every small step felt like climbing a hill. Sometimes I wondered if I was too idealistic for such a structured and demanding industry.
Emotionally, it was heavy. Because when you are building something that is deeply personal, every obstacle feels intimate. It is not just business. It is your dream. But those experiences shaped me. They forced me to become more disciplined, more organized, more resilient. I learned to prepare better. I learned to present myself with quiet confidence. I learned that seriousness is not about size, but about consistency. Over time, relationships changed. Some suppliers who were initially cautious became loyal partners. They saw that I was not disappearing. They saw that I cared about quality, about ethics, about paying properly and on time. Trust was built slowly.
Looking back, I am grateful for those early challenges. They taught me humility and perseverance. They also made Dusita stronger from the inside. Nothing was handed to us easily. Every bottle today carries not only poetry and emotion, but also years of patience, negotiation, and belief.
T • You opened your boutique merely two years after launching the Dusita collection. Was the vision for your boutique already solidified when you introduced your collection to the public?
P • Opening the boutique was one of the most emotional decisions of my life. At that time, Dusita was still young. From a business perspective, it might have seemed early, maybe even risky. But inside me, I felt something very clear. I did not want Dusita to exist only on shelves around the world. I wanted a home. A physical place where the soul of the brand could breathe.
Before opening, I often imagined what kind of space I would personally feel comfortable in. I did not want something intimidating or overly luxurious in a cold way. I wanted warmth. Light. A place where someone could sit down, take their time, and speak about feelings without pressure. Finding the location was not easy. Paris is beautiful but demanding. Rents are high. Expectations are high. I remember standing in the empty space before renovation, looking at bare walls, and feeling both excitement and fear. It was quiet. I thought, “Can I really do this?”
Designing the boutique was very personal. Every detail mattered to me. The colors, the materials, the lighting. I wanted it to reflect elegance, but also softness. Not a showroom, but a living room for perfume lovers.
When we finally opened the doors, I was nervous. What if no one comes? What if I made a mistake? Those thoughts were very real. But then the first clients entered. Some came out of curiosity. Some had followed the brand since the beginning. Some walked in by chance. And slowly, the space began to feel alive.
What touched me most was not the sales. It was the conversations. People sharing memories. Couples discovering scents together. Someone sitting quietly with a blotter, closing their eyes.
The boutique allowed me to meet people face to face. To explain why I chose a certain raw material. To listen to their stories. That direct human exchange reminded me why I started Dusita in the first place. Of course, there were challenges. Managing stock. Staffing. Financial pressure. A boutique is beautiful, but it is also a responsibility. During difficult periods, especially when the world slowed down, I felt the weight of it. But even in those moments, I never regretted it. The boutique is not just a point of sale. It is the heart of Dusita. It is where poetry, perfume, and people meet in real life. And for me, that human connection is priceless.
T • Can you please describe the process of your masterclass and workshops?
P • My masterclasses are very close to my heart because they are not just educational sessions. They are creative encounters. When people visit parfumsdusita.com and see our masterclasses, what I truly want them to feel is an invitation. Not “come and learn from the expert,” but “come and explore with me.”
During the masterclass, I guide perfume lovers step by step into the structure of a fragrance. We smell raw materials separately. We talk about how an ingredient behaves in isolation and how it transforms when blended. I explain why I chose a particular iris, or how a certain sandalwood creates warmth without heaviness. But I also ask them questions. What do you feel? What memory appears? Does this note feel bright, soft, distant, intimate? Creativity begins when people trust their own perception.
Many attendees arrive thinking perfume is mysterious and inaccessible. By the end, they realize they already have imagination and sensitivity inside them. I simply help unlock it. I also share my own process very openly. I talk about failures, modifications, trials that did not work. I show them that perfume creation is not magic. It is patience, instinct, and emotion working together. Sometimes we even do small exercises where they try to compose something very simple. Not to become perfumers, but to understand how difficult and beautiful balance can be. I love seeing their eyes change. At first, they smell casually. Later they smell with attention. That shift is powerful. For me, the masterclass is not about transmitting knowledge. It is about awakening creativity. I stand there not only as a perfumer, but as a guide walking beside them.
T • Like myself, you have a great fondness for vintage fragrances. Do you actively collect, or is your appreciation more for reference and inspiration? Do you have a favorite?
P • Yes, I have a deep love for vintage perfumes. They teach humility. Shalimar by Guerlain has always fascinated me. It is sensual, yes, but also incredibly structured. The contrast between the bright bergamot opening and the warm, almost smoky vanilla base feels architectural. It is bold but elegant. When I smell vintage Shalimar, I feel the confidence of another era. It is unapologetic, yet refined. It reminds me that sensuality can be dignified. Nahema by Guerlain touches me in a different way. It is emotional and almost dramatic. The rose in Nahema is not shy. It is full, expressive, and slightly mysterious. It moves between softness and strength. I admire how it evolves on the skin. It is not linear. It has tension and release. That complexity feels alive to me. Bandit by Robert Piguet is something else entirely. It is daring. Green, leathery, almost rebellious. When I first smelled it, I was surprised. It did not try to please. It had character. It taught me that perfume can have an attitude. It does not need to be sweet or comforting to be beautiful.
These vintage perfumes remind me that perfumery once allowed more risk. They had strong identities. They were not afraid to be distinctive. I do not try to recreate them. But I study them carefully. I ask myself, why does this work? Why does this tension feel elegant? How did they create such depth with fewer materials?
They keep me grounded. They remind me that we are part of a long lineage. As perfumers, we are not inventing from nothing. We are continuing a conversation that started long before us. And that, to me, is very humbling and very inspiring.
T • What comes next for Dusita moving forward?
P • When I think about the future of Dusita, I do not think first about scale. I think about depth.
The world of niche perfumery has grown very quickly. There are many launches, many trends, many loud voices. For Dusita, I want growth, but I want it to be intelligent and intentional. Not faster for the sake of speed. Deeper, more meaningful, more sustainable. Creatively, I want to continue refining my language. I feel that with each collection, I become more precise. I want to explore new raw materials, but always through emotion, not trend. I want each new fragrance to feel necessary, not just new.
From a business perspective, the next chapter is about strengthening foundations. First, reinforcing our presence in key markets where the community truly understands our DNA. Not everywhere at once, but in places where there is genuine appreciation for artisanal perfumery. I would rather have fewer doors with strong partnerships than many doors without connection. Second, building stronger direct relationships with our clients. The boutique in Paris and our website are central to that. I want the online experience to feel as personal as the in-store experience. More storytelling, more education, more masterclasses, more interaction. Not just selling perfume, but sharing knowledge and inspiration.
Education is a long-term strategy for me. When people understand what they are smelling, they become loyal not to a trend, but to a philosophy. Operationally, I also want to continue improving structure behind the scenes. Stronger logistics, clear compliance, careful financial management. Creativity needs stability. I learned that the hard way in the early years. A beautiful idea must stand on solid ground.
Another important direction is nurturing the community. Journalists, collectors, perfumers, partners, clients. Dusita has grown because of people who believed in it early. I never forget that. I want to continue investing in those relationships with sincerity. And personally, I want to protect the heart of the house.
Dusita is special because it is deeply personal. It is poetry, family, Thai heritage, Parisian refinement, and my own hands in the formulas. As we grow, the biggest challenge is to keep that intimacy. I do not want to become a brand that feels distant from its founder. So what comes next is a balance. Stronger strategy. Smarter growth. Deeper roots.
And always, beauty with humanity at the center.
Explore Parfums Dusita here
