Au Revoir, Olivier Echaudemaison!

My association with Guerlain dates back to the late 1990s, when my dear friend HH Tikka Raja Shatrujit Singh, Maharaja of Kapurthala, who was also responsible for introducing me to the world of global luxury, introduced me to someone called Olivier Echaudemaison.

Frankly, at the time, I had no idea who Olivier was. But I knew Tikka. He was someone who had grown up surrounded by the world of Louis Vuitton, Goyard, Cartier, Boucheron and other great names of luxury, through generations of royal connoisseurs in his family, from his great-grandfather to his father. So, naturally, I assumed that this Olivier Echaudemaison must be someone rather important.

And he was.

As the creative force behind Guerlain, one of the world's oldest fragrance and cosmetics houses, Olivier had an extraordinary influence over the world of beauty. I half expected to meet someone with an equally extraordinary sense of self-importance.

Instead, I met one of the nicest, most humble and genuinely funny people I had ever encountered in the world of luxury.

Olivier was warm, friendly and wonderfully chatty. Within minutes of sitting down with him, he had made me feel completely at ease. But beyond his easy charm, what struck me most was his extraordinary passion for his craft. He knew beauty inside out. He knew precisely what to do -- and, as Olivier himself would often emphasise with a smile, what not to do --when it came to skincare and makeup.

His passion was not confined to the pages of his professional life. I discovered that quite by chance one day at the Guerlain boutique on the Champs-Élysées.

Olivier was walking out from the back of the boutique when he spotted me. His face lit up. He was genuinely delighted to see me and immediately asked what I was doing in Paris and what I was looking for at the store. I told him I was looking for a bronzer for my wife, Neena.

That was all it took. Olivier immediately took charge.

First, he asked me to show him a photograph of Neena. Then he asked for another one. He studied both carefully, explaining to me how important it was to choose the right product for the right skin tone. I pointed to a couple of options, only for him to dismiss them almost instantly.

“No,” he said, handing me two others. “These will work best for her. Let me know how she liked it.”

It was such a simple moment, but one I have never forgotten.

Here was one of the most celebrated names in beauty, a man whose time must have been extraordinarily valuable, standing in a boutique and taking the trouble to make sure I chose the right bronzer for my wife. 

And then Olivier did something that, in retrospect, sums up the man he was... He told me he had to drop off his blazer at the dry cleaner and casually asked if I wanted to come along. My meetings were over and I had nowhere else I needed to be, so I said yes.

And there we were, walking along the Champs-Élysées together, eventually turning into a side street and arriving at the dry cleaner. I watched Olivier hand over a Dior jacket, before he introduced me to the two charming French women behind the counter as “a friend from India.”

That little walk turned into coffee, conversation and laughter. Eventually, we said à bientôt and went our separate ways.

As I walked back to my hotel, I couldn't help thinking about what had just happened. How many people of Olivier's stature would have taken the time to help someone choose a cosmetic for his wife, and then spent another couple of hours simply walking, talking and making sure that a friend visiting Paris felt looked after?

That was Olivier.

Years later, when I met Laurent Boilloit, then CEO of Guerlain, I made it a point to tell him about this wonderful man I had met. I did the same when I met Guerlain's legendary perfumer Thierry Wasser. Olivier had left such an impression on me that I felt compelled to share the story with everyone from the house whom I met. The news of his passing came as a genuine shock. Perhaps there is some truth in the old saying that the nicest people are sometimes called away far too soon. Olivier may no longer be with us, but people like him never really leave. They remain in the stories we tell, in the memories we cherish and in the small moments of kindness that stay with us long after the person has gone. For me, whenever I think of Olivier, I will remember that walk through Paris, the dry cleaner, the coffee, his laughter and, of course, those two bronzers he so carefully selected for Neena. Some people leave behind a legacy of work. Others leave behind something much more precious -- memories. Olivier left both. The fragrance of his friendship and his memories that will remain with me forever. Au revoir, Olivier. You will be deeply missed, but never forgotten.