Elise Pioch Balzac on Memory, Maison Balzac, and the Magic of Everyday Objects

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Portrait by Peter Van Alphen

Elise Pioch Balzac sees the world through a lens of quiet enchantment. Born in France and now rooted in Australia, she has a way of distilling memory and emotion into objects that feel both intimate and timeless. As the founder of Maison Balzac, her creations—whether a delicate glass coupe or a candle steeped in nostalgia—tell stories of her upbringing, her inspirations, and her enduring love for beauty in all its forms.

In conversation, Elise is as thoughtful as her work suggests. We spoke about the philosophy behind Maison Balzac, the interplay between her French heritage and Australian life, and the importance of rest in a world that rarely slows down. With warmth and curiosity, she brings the same poetic sensibility to her words as she does to her designs.

Elise in conversation with Anna Harding from Sen Living:

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Products images by Stephanie Stamatis

Anna Harding: Your brand has this beautiful sense of play to it. But it also carries a sense of longevity and classicism—it's very thoughtful and intentional. How does your personal approach to how you live shape the way you create?

Elise Pioch Balzac: My personal life is 100 percent fueling my brand. When I started Maison Balzac 12 years ago, I saw it as my one chance to fully express who I am—my taste, my upbringing—without any concessions.

To this day, that philosophy continues to drive the brand. You described it as having a touch of classicism paired with a playful, creative spirit, and I think that comes down to my background. I was born in France, and that French sensibility is my foundation. In France, we are raised with a deep cultural structure—our education, our taste, our artistic references are steeped in tradition. My world is informed by literature, art, and history that spans from antiquity to today.

But then, in the middle of my life, I moved to Australia. That shift was profound. Here, I felt free—untethered from the expectations of my past, able to embrace a more spontaneous and playful side of myself. If I had stayed in France, I don’t think I would have given myself permission to explore this part of me so fully.

Maison Balzac is the meeting point of these two cultures. Every piece we create is grounded in a French sensibility but infused with the enthusiasm, freedom, and lightness that I associate with Australia. It’s a true fusion of both worlds.

Anna: That’s so beautiful. It’s that rich cultural background, isn’t it? And then moving to a place that feels perhaps more open, more free—that playfulness emerges. I love that.

Creativity is such an elusive thing—it can feel abundant one moment and completely out of reach the next. How do you nurture inspiration in your daily life?

Elise: Inspiration is a constant dialogue between the past and the present for me. I have always been fascinated by objects, by the way they tell stories. When I visit antique shops or flea markets, I feel like I am encountering ghosts of the past—each item whispers something about its previous life. That sense of history fuels my imagination.

At the same time, I am very sensitive to my surroundings. Light, scent, sound—these details shape my creative energy. I love listening to music, especially classical pieces that evoke emotion. And scent, of course, is incredibly powerful. A single fragrance can transport me to another time and place. That’s why scent is at the heart of Maison Balzac—it’s a direct line to memory and feeling.

But I also believe creativity thrives in stillness. When I allow myself to slow down, to just be, that’s when new ideas emerge. Some of my best ideas have come when I’m near the water, watching the tide move in and out. It’s almost meditative. I think the key is to stay open—to listen, to observe, and to trust that inspiration will always return.

“I truly believe that everyone should find their own personal sanctuary, whether physical or imagined. It’s a tool we all have, and it costs nothing. It can be the difference between burnout and balance, between overwhelm and creativity.”

Anna: Rest, in today’s world, can feel almost radical. We live such fast-paced lives, and it’s easy to get caught up in the momentum. What does true rest look like for you?

Elise: You’re absolutely right. Life moves so fast, and we communicate across so many mediums—text messages, phone calls, Instagram, Facebook. That can be overwhelming for me because I’m such a caring and detail-driven person. I always want to give my absolute best to every single request—whether it’s for my business, my husband, or my daughter.

As a sensitive person, this can weigh heavily on my shoulders, and at times, it has even blocked my creativity. I start to feel like a rabbit caught in the headlights. Twice in the life of the business, that overwhelm actually led me to physical burnout, where my brain literally disconnected—I couldn’t think, I couldn’t work. I had to shut down my computer and do nothing for a while just to reset my mind.

Thankfully, those times are over. That was early on when I didn’t have much help, but now I have the most beautiful, talented team, and I don’t feel alone anymore. Burnout is no longer something I fear. However, there are still moments when my inbox is overflowing, and the best answer I’ve found is to live in a place that offers a natural balance to the hecticness of work and life.

Anna: Was learning to rest something that came with time and experience?

Elise: Four years ago, my husband, daughter, and I moved to a house in the Ku-ring-gai National Park, north of Sydney. It’s an hour’s drive from work, but it’s absolutely worth it. Our home is perched on a little hill, with the park behind us and the Pittwater inlet in front of us. We have a jetty, a pontoon, a boathouse—and we have to take a boat to get home, as it’s only accessible by water. That five-minute crossing symbolically disconnects me from work. I leave behind the stress of the day and enter this serene world filled with bushland, wallabies, cockatoos, and magpies who bring their babies to me. It’s my sanctuary, my cocoon.

Of course, it comes with sacrifices—the long commute—but you have to know your priorities in life. For us, the priority was having a home that offers peace and connection with nature. It allows me to stay creative and make every decision with a calm mind.

But I also want to say that you don’t need to move to a remote house to find this kind of escape. Before we had this home, I used a simple mental trick whenever I felt overwhelmed—I would close my eyes and take myself back to my favourite childhood places. One was a little rock pool by the sea where I used to go prawn fishing as a girl. I can still feel the sun on my back and see those tiny transparent prawns. That memory has saved me many times, even when I was organising fashion shows in Paris and feeling completely overwhelmed.

I truly believe that everyone should find their own personal sanctuary, whether physical or imagined. It’s a tool we all have, and it costs nothing. It can be the difference between burnout and balance, between overwhelm and creativity.

“When all five senses are engaged in a way that feels healthy and harmonious, you’re in a state of communion with the world around you. That’s when you feel most human, most connected. It’s something we instinctively know but often forget to seek out in daily life.”

Anna: The power of the mind. That ability to transport yourself somewhere safe and familiar in moments of stress or intensity.

Elise: Absolutely. I think everyone should take the time to reflect on their own personal sanctuary—a place, real or imagined, that brings them comfort and peace. For me, there is also a second place – a tiny mountain house my family had when I was growing up. It was just one room, no electricity, no running water—just a fireplace, a few sofas, and a small bedroom. In winter, we would all huddle together, cooking simple meals, completely cut off from the world.

That place was pure happiness to me. When I gave birth to my daughter, I meditated by taking my mind back there, imagining the crackling fire, the cold air outside, the feeling of being cocooned with my family. It instantly calmed me.

Anna: That’s such a beautiful mindset, using memory as a form of refuge. I think nature has a similar effect—it has a way of pulling us into the present, engaging all our senses.

Elise: Exactly. In nature, all five senses are alive. You hear the rustling leaves, the waves, or the birdsong—it’s like an orchestra. Your eyes take in the vastness of the landscape, the colors, the shifting light. You can feel the earth beneath you—the sand, the grass, the coolness of a rock. And then there’s taste—sometimes literal, if you’re by the sea or near fruit trees. And, of course, scent. The smell of eucalyptus, pine needles, the saltiness of the ocean—those fragrances imprint themselves on you.

When all five senses are engaged in a way that feels healthy and harmonious, you’re in a state of communion with the world around you. That’s when you feel most human, most connected. It’s something we instinctively know but often forget to seek out in daily life.

Anna Harding: It’s just about being present, isn’t it?

Elise: Yes! And it’s so simple, yet so rare.

“With Maison Balzac, everything is deeply personal and consistent because I don’t look outward for inspiration—I look inward. I don’t follow trends. I don’t even glance left or right to see what others are doing. My world comes from within, and I think that’s what makes it feel timeless.”

Anna: Your background is rooted in fashion—you’ve worked with some truly iconic fashion houses, including Hermès. How did that world influence your approach to design?

Elise: Fashion shaped my eye and my sensibility in so many ways. I studied fashion in France, and at 24, I landed my first job under Martin Margiela in Paris. For four years, I was immersed in a world of balance, elegance, and exceptional craftsmanship. Every detail mattered—textures, silhouettes, the way a garment moved.

Later, when I moved to Australia, I worked for luxury fashion boutiques, traveling to showrooms, selecting pieces from over 200 collections each season. That experience refined my understanding of curation—how to bring together objects, colors, and materials in a way that feels cohesive and alive.

I did this for over a decade before starting Maison Balzac, and without realizing it, those years had layered themselves onto my own personal taste. When it came time to create my own world, all those influences—fashion, nature, my childhood—merged together organically.

Anna: It’s fascinating how your creativity is this mix of nature, craftsmanship, and personal memory.

Elise: Yes, my creativity is deeply personal. It’s rooted in childhood memories of snails and frogs in the garden, but also in watching my mother and grandmother transform a living space—draping a throw over a chair, lighting a candle, creating a sense of warmth and beauty.

Growing up, we always had stacks of magazines—Elle Decoration, Marie Claire Maison—and they shaped my early ideas about interiors. Even in fashion magazines, there was always a recipe at the back! Food, beauty, and design were always intertwined.

Now, when I create something for Maison Balzac, I draw from all these memories. I take those stories—whether from childhood, my fashion years, or something I’ve encountered on my travels—and translate them into objects: a candle, a carafe, a brass incense holder. It’s my way of storytelling.

Anna: That’s such a wonderful way to put it—Maison Balzac as a kind of storytelling.

Elise: Exactly! I see it as creating a little theatre for the table. The pieces interact like characters—some are playful, some are elegant, some feel nostalgic. When people bring them into their homes, they weave them into their own stories, mixing them with vintage pieces or heirlooms.

Twelve years ago, when I started, the idea of playful yet refined tableware wasn’t as common. You had the grand French maisons—Baccarat, Christofle—but not much in between. Now, I love seeing people embracing the idea that the table isn’t just about utility—it’s a space for joy, for memory, for creativity.

And the beauty of it is that I still have so many more stories to tell. I feel like I’ve only scratched the surface.

Anna Harding: I think that’s the future of brands—people want to enter a world. It’s not just about the product anymore; it’s the story, the experience, the inspiration behind it.

Elise: Absolutely. But I also believe customers want to know that the story is real. That authenticity matters more than ever.

With Maison Balzac, everything is deeply personal and consistent because I don’t look outward for inspiration—I look inward. I don’t follow trends. I don’t even glance left or right to see what others are doing. My world comes from within, and I think that’s what makes it feel timeless.

Customers are incredibly perceptive. They can sense when something is genuine and when it isn’t. That’s something I learned at Hermès. The house was founded in 1837, and it’s still run by the same family. They aren’t just making luxury products; they’re carrying forward a legacy, a way of life that is deeply ingrained in their DNA. Their customers feel that continuity because they live it too—it’s a shared sensibility.

That’s exactly what I wanted to create when I started Maison Balzac. At Hermès, they refer to it as La Maison Hermès, and that’s why I chose Maison Balzac—because when people step into my world, I want them to feel like they’re entering my home, my universe, my temple.

Anna : I love that. And scent is such a key part of your brand as well. What are the sensory experiences that make your home feel like home? Do you have certain rituals that you follow?

Elise: Oh, absolutely. This is actually our third home—we’ve moved between countries and different styles of houses, but there are a few objects that always come with us. They’re like anchors, marking the space as ours.

The first are three pillows—two printed with hydrangeas, one with green leaves, like a little garden. They were made by Brancourt Edits, designed by Sharon Storia, who has the most exquisite taste. I bought them 16 years ago, and they’ve followed us from home to home.

Then, there’s a resin coral candle holder—it’s always placed in the new house first. It’s almost like a ritual, setting the stage for the space to become ours. The moment those objects are in place, I know: this is home now.

And then there are my daily rituals. Every morning, without fail, I make chai tea. It’s a special blend infused with honey that I’ve been drinking for 16 years. I boil the water, let it steep, add a little soy milk, and a touch of local honey. That marks the beginning of my day. If I don’t have it, something feels incomplete—like the day can’t properly start. Even when I travel, I bring it with me.

Anna: That’s such a beautiful, grounding ritual.

Elise: It really is. And when I’m working from home, my day always begins the same way. I take my chai to the sofa, facing the deck and the trees beyond. I open the windows so I can hear the birds—they visit me every day, and I always leave little seeds for them. That interaction feels like a small moment of connection with nature.

And then there’s my coffee table, which is a bit like a miniature archive of my inspirations. It’s a transparent resin table with two levels—the top always holds fresh flowers, even if it’s just a branch from the bush outside. The bottom shelf is overflowing with books and magazines that mean something to me.

There’s the Les Dîners de Gala cookbook by Salvador Dalí, which he created for his wife, Gala—it’s so surreal and decadent. Then there’s a book by Kelly Wearstler, whom I adore. My most recent addition is a book on the beautiful homes of Mallorca—because one day, we dream of living there. Each book represents something—a dream, a past fascination, a creative influence.

I also have books on Jean Cocteau and the Surrealists, because I studied them at university, and they still inspire me deeply. They’re all there, under the glass, almost like a time capsule of my influences. When I sit in that space, surrounded by those objects, scents, and sounds, I feel completely at home.

Anna: Could we talk about intuition? Because I feel within some of your answers, you come from a very intuitive place with your design and your feelings.

Elise: Oh, I'm a thousand percent an intuitive person. It applies to everything—from understanding people to sensing the right products, the right colors. I can't help it. And sometimes, it's actually not a good thing because I can see beyond what's visible.

It’s like a little bell inside me that guides me. Over the years, I’ve learned that when I don’t listen to it, I usually fail, or it hurts when I don’t. So, as I grow and mature, I make sure that my first instinct—my first idea, my first intuition—is always followed, because it always seems to be right.

I don’t do anything specific to train or refine it because I believe I was born with it. But it’s funny—when I first traveled to Australia at 28, I knew I’d be on a 24-hour flight, so I grabbed a couple of books from my dad’s coffee table. One of them was Science & Vie, a well-known French science magazine. It had an article about the seven types of intelligence that human beings can have. One of them was ‘intelligence in communication,’ and it wasn’t just about how well you communicate with others but also how well you communicate with yourself—your inner voice, your intuition.

I was surprised to learn that some people never listen to their inner voice or simply don’t have that intuition. That was the day I realized it was a gift, and I felt very proud. But I can’t explain to anyone how to develop it—if you don’t have it, how do you create it? I don’t know.

One thing I’m sure of is that I’m really grateful for it, and I think my mother played a big role in nurturing it. She’s incredibly intuitive and sensitive. Growing up, when I’d ask her questions, she’d encourage me to think deeply, to go inside myself—‘What can you see? What can you feel?’ Maybe, without realising it, she trained me to listen to that inner voice. It has guided my life in so many ways.

In my design process, I don’t shy away from my intuition. If my team is debating between three colors and I feel strongly about one, I’ve learned that I have to trust my instinct and overrule them. They never hold it against me because, commercially, it usually proves right. Not always, of course—I’m not perfect—but my intuition drives everything: my creative process, my hiring decisions, and even the way I run my business.

That said, I overlay intuition with common sense. Business decisions require logic, practicality, and financial awareness. It can’t just be intuition. But I trust my instincts and use common sense to make all major decisions.

Anna: Yes, that’s so important. It’s like having your own internal antenna!

Elise: Totally!

“If I ever find myself in a period of uncertainty again, I hope I’ll be able to trust that the unknown is where the magic happens. You just have to lean into the moment without painting it with future expectations.”

Anna: Have you learned any life lessons recently that you could share—things that have shaped your journey?

Elise: Oh, so many.

First, always follow your first instinct. That has always proved right for me, so if you can, trust it.

Second, be kind. It always pays off, even when people are unkind to you. I’ve learned that kindness is the best tool—for everything. Whether it’s dealing with suppliers, customers, family, or even DHL and Telstra!

Third, trust yourself. We all tend to doubt so much, but I think life would be simpler if we gave ourselves a bit more trust.

And finally, everything always works out for the best.

Anna: It’s so true. If something doesn’t work, it’s just a learning and redirection.

Elise: Yes! Our brains always want to know the outcome in advance, and that’s what causes the stress.

For example, between my previous job and starting Maison Balzac, I had a three-month gap. Instead of enjoying my first break since I was fourteen, I kept worrying—‘When will my next chapter start? Will it be successful?’ Looking back, I wish I had just rested my mind and enjoyed the moment. Because everything did work out for the best.

Fast forward 13 years, if I ever find myself in a period of uncertainty again, I hope I’ll be able to trust that the unknown is where the magic happens. You just have to lean into the moment without painting it with future expectations.