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\n\n

\n Ancient masterpieces at the Louvre\n

\n\n

We’re delighted to announce that 39BC is now available at Dover Street Market Paris – one of our favourite stores in the world.

Drop into the DSM's chic Paris location to inhale 39BC IRL, then explore a timelessly beautiful city where echoes of Cleopatra, Ancient Egypt, and Rome surface in its monuments, museums, and hidden corners.

\n\n

\n\n $\"The$ \n\n\n

\n\n

\n The Luxor Obelisk\n

\n\n

Where to experience Cleopatra’s world in Paris:

The Luxor Obelisk, Place de la Concorde – A 3,000-year-old monument from Thebes standing at the heart of the city.

The Louvre’s Department of Egyptian Antiquities – Sphinxes, statues, sarcophagi, and entire reconstructed chambers from ancient Egypt.

Musée du Louvre: Roman Galleries – Sculptures, reliefs, and imperial artefacts from the world that shaped Cleopatra’s final chapter.

\n\n

\n $\"Musée$ \n\n

\n\n

\n Musée Rodin\n

\n\n

Musée Rodin – A serene encounter with Egypt’s influence on European art and imagination.

Arènes de Lutèce – Paris’s Roman amphitheatre, still open to the sky, where the ancient city of Lutetia once gathered.

\n\n

","handle","39bc-a-paris","gid://shopify/Article/618247160073",{"_15":182,"_183":-5,"_22":184,"_102":185,"_100":185},"gid://shopify/ArticleImage/236929319177","altText","https://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/0939/6702/4393/articles/ancient-masterpiece_e8a41f20-8bf2-41f8-9734-9dd37c331338.jpg?v=1780000940",2736,"publishedAt","2026-05-28T20:33:47Z","39BC à Paris",{"_178":190},"letters",{"_173":192,"_176":193,"_178":194,"_15":195,"_86":196,"_186":201,"_38":202,"_163":203},{"_17":175},"

\n $\"Men$ \n

\n\n

\n\n\n

A while ago, the internet had one of its favourite anthropological moments: women discovering that many men think about the Roman Empire weekly, if not daily. It was a meme, yes — but like all good memes, it revealed something true about how people use history to locate themselves in the present.

For many men, the Roman Empire represents a world of crystalline certainty: defined roles, visible hierarchies, clear missions. There were battles to fight, cities to build, leaders to follow. Life had direction — expand, conquer, protect, achieve. Purpose wasn’t something you had to excavate from within; it was handed to you from the outside.

\n\n

\n\n\n

\n $\"Men$ \n

\n\n

By contrast, the modern world feels markedly more ambiguous. There are fewer obvious quests, fewer sanctioned arenas for proving oneself, fewer scripts that say: this is who you are, this is what you do. And whether or not we accept the premise, a popular idea circulating online suggests that part of the contemporary male malaise — the burnout, the drifting, the quiet sense of inertia — stems from the disappearance of that external structure.

This isn’t about glorifying war or longing for empire. It’s about noticing how identity is shaped by the cultural scaffolding around us. Historically, men were given battlefields — literal or symbolic — on which to test their courage and form their sense of self. Those structures no longer operate in the same way, and so many men are searching for new equivalents: gym-as-discipline culture, the rise of stoicism podcasts, morning routine optimisation, and a general fascination with ancient history.

\n\n\n

\n\n

\n\n\n

\n $\"Men$ \n

\n\n

Interestingly, there is one Roman trend experiencing a revival that we can wholeheartedly support: bathing. Modern “wellness culture” may package it differently — cold plunges, steam rooms, infrared saunas, bathhouse memberships — but it echoes the Roman belief that caring for the body is a gateway to caring for the mind. Communal bathing spaces were once places of rest, reflection, conversation, and resetting the nervous system. If men are rediscovering that lineage, then perhaps not all returns to antiquity are about conquest. The Roman Empire becomes shorthand for clarity, order, and a story big enough to step into.

But perhaps the most revealing part is that this isn’t a gendered critique so much as a human observation. All of us — men, women, and everyone in between — crave systems, rituals, and narratives that tell us who we are and what matters. We just look for them in different places.

Maybe the Roman Empire trend simply reminds us that even in a world that feels increasingly chaotic, we’re all still searching for direction, coherence, and meaning. And history, as always, offers a familiar place to begin the search.

Watch a video that imagines: What if Mark Antony lived in 1989AD instead of 39BC?\n

\n\n

\n","why-men-require-ritual-too-1","gid://shopify/Article/618248077577",{"_15":197,"_183":-5,"_22":198,"_102":199,"_100":200},"gid://shopify/ArticleImage/236937347337","https://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/0939/6702/4393/articles/men-ritual-hero.jpg?v=1780012263",1200,600,"2026-05-28T21:53:51Z","Why Men Require Ritual, Too",{"_178":190},{"_173":205,"_176":206,"_178":207,"_15":208,"_86":209,"_186":213,"_38":214,"_163":215},{"_17":175}," $\"Ylang-ylang$ \n\n

\n\n\n

Ylang-ylang is a flower of distinction.

Distillers in the Philippines move through the trees at dawn with clinical precision, selecting only the blossoms that opened in the night. Timing is everything — the window is hours, not days. The oil captured in those early hours carries a quality that nothing harvested later can replicate.

What emerges is floral, yes, but with an undertone that makes you lean closer. Creamy. Almost narcotic. The kind of warmth that settles on skin and refuses to leave.

Indonesian brides have known this for centuries. They scatter ylang-ylang petals in their marriage beds, weave the oil into their hair — the scent that follows them down temple aisles carrying promises the uninitiated can't quite name. French apothecaries during the Revolution prescribed it for racing hearts, for nerves frayed by uncertainty. The oil that steadied falling empires.

\n\n

\n\n $\"Ylang-ylang$ \n\n

\n\n

Cleopatra never encountered ylang-ylang — geography kept this secret from her. But we suspect she would have recognised a kindred spirit. The way it touches skin like silk, lingers like memory, prepares the body for what's coming next.

The distillation tells its own story. Grade Extra — the first, most delicate notes captured in those crucial morning hours. Everything that follows is beautiful, but never quite as precise. We use only the first.

In SILK VEIL, ylang-ylang deepens neroli's brightness, draping the scent in golden warmth before the white florals arrive to steal the show.

Like its name — rolling twice off the tongue — ylang-ylang doesn't believe in fleeting. It settles on your senses, lush and velvety, and stays exactly as long as it pleases.

\n\n\n

\n\n

","the-allure-of-ylang-ylang","gid://shopify/Article/618248110345",{"_15":210,"_183":-5,"_22":211,"_102":212,"_100":199},"gid://shopify/ArticleImage/236937380105","https://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/0939/6702/4393/articles/Ylang-ylang-1.jpg?v=1780012540",800,"2026-05-28T23:55:27Z","The Allure of Ylang-Ylang",{"_178":190},{"_173":217,"_176":218,"_178":219,"_15":220,"_86":221,"_186":226,"_38":227,"_163":228},{"_17":175}," $\"Coconut\"$ \n\n

\n\n\n

Coconut — flesh, milk, oil — sustaining island civilisations across Asia and the Pacific for millennia.

On open water, it travelled with Polynesian navigators reading wind and stars across vast distances. Each shell held what was needed: hydration, nourishment, medicine. A contained world, carried across the ocean.

In Bali, it enters ritual. Coconuts split at dawn, milk poured over temple statues and skin, a gesture of care that feels both elemental and precise. The scent is quiet, slightly sweet, warmed by air and body.

Across Southeast Asia, coconut oil moves through daily life. Worked into skin, into hair, into inherited routines. In Thai courts, it was infused with jasmine and worn by dancers, scent released through movement, shaping the space around them.

\n\n

\n\n $\"Coconut$ \n\n

\n\n

Ayurvedic texts name coconut kalpa vriksha — the wish-fulfilling tree. Cooling, restorative, steadying. A material associated with balance, with return.

In perfumery, coconut brings softness and cohesion. A lactonic quality that settles a composition, easing sharper facets into something continuous, close to the skin.

In FIG MILK, it draws fig and violet leaf into alignment — sweetness, green, and mineral facets held together in a smooth, fluid structure.

Texture over statement. Warmth that stays.

\n\n\n

\n\n

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