BIANCANOTE

Some stories are never meant to fade.

Lucien was born in London, England. In the winter of 2007, he traveled to northern Norway — a place far removed from the noise of the city, where pale skies stretched endlessly above frozen lakes and silent forests. It was there, in a remote countryside village, that he met a girl named Biancana.

She lived with her grandfather in a worn wooden cabin at the edge of the forest. The house was small, weathered by years of cold winds, and the fireplace never seemed warm enough. Her mother had brought her there from Italy, kissed her softly on the forehead, and never returned. Since then, her grandfather survived on temporary labor to support them both, while Biancana rarely wandered far from the woods surrounding their home.

She was fragile and pale, with golden hair constantly tangled by the northern wind. Her voice was quiet, almost careful, as though she feared disturbing the silence around her. But what stood out most were her eyes — calm, distant, and filled with a world no one else could see.

Lucien later learned that Biancana suffered from schizophrenia.

She often spoke of a forest that did not exist. A forest drenched entirely in violet, where winter never came and glowing butterflies — or at least something resembling butterflies — drifted endlessly through the trees. She said those creatures would rest on her shoulders at night, as though they were keeping her company.

To Biancana, nearly everything carried shades of purple. The evening sky was purple. The snow was purple. Even the wind itself seemed wrapped in a soft violet haze.

During his short stay in Norway, Lucien spent many afternoons walking beside her near the forest, listening to stories about the visions she saw. Over time, he realized those butterflies were more than symptoms of illness. They were the last gentle thing in a lonely world only she could understand.

A few days later, Lucien had to leave. Before he departed, Biancana handed him a drawing of the creatures she always saw.

“They like you,” she told him softly.
“They’ve been circling around you this whole time. Please don’t forget them.”

After returning to England, Lucien wrote down everything he could remember about those days in Norway. That memory eventually became the beginning of BIANCANOTE.

We believe the most meaningful things are never only about appearance. Sometimes they are born from a memory, a person, or a brief encounter that quietly changes your life forever.

The soul of BIANCANOTE comes from Biancana’s violet forest and the mysterious butterflies within it. Purple represents solitude, romance, and dreams, while butterflies symbolize the fragile freedom hidden inside vulnerable souls. Every collection is inspired by the stories Biancana once shared with Lucien about the visions she lived with every day.

We hope every piece feels like one of her butterflies — quiet, honest, and impossible to forget.

More importantly, we believe children living with mental illness are never “strange” or “broken.” Like Biancana, they carry entire galaxies within their minds — oceans, stars, and worlds unseen by others. They deserve kindness, understanding, and a place where their inner worlds can still be beautiful.

BIANCANOTE
For every gentle and lonely soul.