It wasn’t one of those "I woke up and everything was perfect" transitions. It was more like: the Paris métro, two kids, a slightly-crazy leap, a mountain of mistakes, and a whole lot of paint splashes.
Paris: Shiny Jobs, Tired Bones
Before I was a full-time illustrator, I was a product designer for L’Oréal. My world was technical and fancy—designing 3D perfume bottles for Lancôme and sleek packaging for Armani. It was demanding, high-status, and completely exhausting.
My life was a loop: daycare drop-off → métro → work → métro → daycare pick-up. I was a mum of two little ones, spending two hours a day underground in the subway. I felt like a very stylish, very stressed little ant in a massive anthill.
The "snap" happened in an end-of-year meeting. I was sitting there with four male superiors that made me cry for some reasons, and suddenly, the dream of a different life wasn’t just a "maybe"—it was a necessity. It was la goutte d’eau qui fait déborder le vase: the final drop that makes the glass overflow. That little voice in my head finally spoke up: “Okay… what if we just built something different?”
15 years of Acrylics on Canvas
The "Acrylic Years" (The Secret Side-Hustle)
But let me rewind. My life as an artist didn't actually start in Australia. Before watercolor took over my world, after fine art school/product design studies, I spent 15 years painting with acrylics. This was on the side of my main jobs as a product designer.
I’d show my work in friends' restaurants or tiny galleries. In fact, if you walk into any of my family’s homes today, they’re basically mini-museums of my "past life" paintings!
Then came Japan. I went there and completely fell down the rabbit hole. I became obsessed with geishas, samurais, and "kawaii" culture. I started making illustrated notebooks with washi paper, badges, and stickers. That was the original Blule, born in Paris in 2010. I was juggling L’Oréal, a toddler, and stalls at Paris Manga or Christmas markets. I clearly have a thing for challenges. 😅
A Love Letter to Paris (With a Few Honest Footnotes)
I’m a real Parisian. Born and raised. I love the hidden courtyards, the apéros with friends, and the fact that you can stumble into a world-class museum on a random Wednesday.
But Paris is a city that runs. People don’t walk; they sprint. I was doing it too—usually in 10cm heels (sneakers with dresses weren't a "thing" yet, and L’Oréal meetings were serious business!).
Eventually, the grey weather and the "anxiety machine" rhythm of the city started to weigh on us. My husband and I looked at our kids and realized we wanted... space. Quiet. Sun. The ocean. Room to breathe.
The Big Leap: Two Kids and a Container
Australia was always on our "ideal life" list. Sun, sea, wild landscapes, and that big-city energy we still loved. So, we leapt.
We arrived in Sydney in 2013 with two "tiny French froggies" who didn't speak a word of English. We were on a student visa, had no jobs lined up, and a shipping container on the way. Looking back, it was total madness. But it was the most beautiful kind of madness.
Sydney: Where the Light is Different
Sydney was a shock to the system. The light here is so bright it almost vibrates. People smile at you for no reason. A stranger says, "How ya goin', mate?" and you feel like you’ve known them for years.
And the nature? It’s unapologetically loud. The lorikeets are chaotic and colorful; the kookaburras sound like monkeys; the white cockatoos scream like car alarms. You can't help but slow down and look up.
Today, I live 15 minutes from the ocean. I walk to the shore most mornings just to remind myself: This is real. This is home.
Blule 2.0: The Rebirth
I’ve made peace with Paris. I go back to visit friends and family (always in the spring!), and I love it. But the Parisian in me is gone. I’ve traded my high heels for surfboards and I spend most of my days barefoot.
Blule, the name stayed—Bleu for the water that regenerates me—but everything else evolved. I moved away from heavy acrylics and found my soul in watercolor. It’s a medium that requires patience and flow—the exact things Sydney taught me.
Blule isn’t just a business; it’s proof that you can trade the subway for a morning surf. You can reinvent yourself without losing your essence.
Trading 10cm heels for big surfbaords
Next up: I’ll tell you how I rebuilt the business from scratch in Australia (including the "one painting a day" era). Stay tuned!