There is a corner of London, at 89 Jermyn Street, where time seems to move with an elegance all its own. Here, in the impeccable heart of St James’s, the story of English perfumery par excellence began in 1730, when a young Menorcan with a gentle name, Juan Famenias Floris, decided that London needed not only well-shaven beards, but also a hint of Mediterranean fragrance.
His shop was born as a barbershop, a neat and intimate space where hand-crafted combs from the island of Minorca arrived, so perfect they seemed carved by the wind. In the back room, skilful hands shaped shaving brushes, hairpins, toothbrushes and even strops for sharpening razors. A small workshop, certainly, but already endowed with that aura of refinement destined to become iconic.
Since then, the history of Floris has continued unbroken from generation to generation, spanning three centuries of fashions, monarchs and transformations, yet always remaining true to itself. It is no coincidence that the Royal Warrants, those precious honours granted only by a member of the Royal Household, multiplied over time. The first arrived in 1820, when George IV appointed Floris the official Smooth Pointed Comb Maker to His Majesty. Elegance, after all, also lies in taking care of a comb.
Today, Floris is the only perfumery formally appointed to the late Queen Elizabeth II, and walking past its windows one has the impression that nothing has changed. The same address, the same atmosphere, the same savoir-faire lovingly passed down, with an almost moving dedication, by the Floris family, now in its ninth generation.
The catalogue is an olfactory journey steeped in tradition and craftsmanship: noble fragrances, velvety soaps, impeccably crafted shaving products, and also fine candles and room sprays that can turn any space into a small London sitting room. It’s easy to understand why figures such as Winston Churchill, Ian Fleming and Marilyn Monroe were counted among Floris admirers: distinctive personalities, refined spirits, lovers of beauty without ostentation.
And the secret of its success? Paradoxically, its simplicity. Floris does not chase trends, and perhaps this is precisely why it never goes out of style. Its fragrances are still composed like quiet symphonies, a perfect balance of art and science shaped “drop by drop,” as they like to say at Floris. Each formula is recorded in a large leather-bound book, the very one Juan began compiling nearly 300 years ago. Every perfume, every blend, is an invisible brushstroke on a canvas scented with ancient elegance and subtle modernity.
That is Floris, an institution that needs no introduction, a signature that tells the story of London better than any novel. A house that for almost three centuries has created emotions more than fragrances. Because wearing perfume, as Juan well knew, is never just a gesture. It is a way of telling the world who we are, with discretion, with style, with a touch of eternity.
