OUR STORY
OUR STORY
My childlike ingenuity wanted to change the floral petals into a perfume by using my mom’s mortar & pestle. I pulverized the petals. It was my first act of creation born from curiosity.
I didn’t realize this innocent ritual echoed something deeper.
My sense of wonder stemmed from generations of Cambodian horticulturists. Born in America after my parents escaped the Khmer Rouge genocide, I grew up with little connection to the land they left behind.
But scent has a way of guiding us home. When creating LENTO FRAGRANCES, I drew inspiration from my childhood and transformed a tragic story of expulsion into passion.
LENTO is not a niche brand, it’s a recreation of my heritage.
Thank you for joining me on this journey.
David Try, Founder
My childlike ingenuity wanted to change the floral petals into a perfume by using my mom’s mortar & pestle. I pulverized the petals. It was my first act of creation born from curiosity.
I didn’t realize this innocent ritual echoed something deeper.
My sense of wonder stemmed from generations of Cambodian horticulturists. Born in America after my parents escaped the Khmer Rouge genocide, I grew up with little connection to the land they left behind.
But scent has a way of guiding us home. When creating LENTO FRAGRANCES, I drew inspiration from my childhood and transformed a tragic story of expulsion into passion.
LENTO is not a niche brand, it’s a recreation of my heritage.
Thank you for joining me on this journey.
David Try, Founder
Wat Phnom Sampov
Battambang, Cambodia
Pictured above
Wat Phnom Sampov
Battambang, Cambodia
Pictured above
OUR HERITAGE
OUR HERITAGE
LENTO FRAGRANCES traces its heritage to the late 1800s through a lineage of horticulturists in Cambodia’s tropical Battambang Province. For generations, my family cultivated the fertile soil and their hands were attuned to the rhythm of the seasons. They passed down soil-stained wisdom just as others do heirloom silver.
LENTO FRAGRANCES traces its heritage to the late 1800s through a lineage of horticulturists in Cambodia’s tropical Battambang Province. For generations, my family cultivated the fertile soil and their hands were attuned to the rhythm of the seasons. They passed down soil-stained wisdom just as others do heirloom silver.
But in 1975 the Khmer Rouge genocide seized, tortured and exterminated families by the millions. For the next three years, my parents endured the killing-field collectives and were forced into slave labor. The tragic sorrow of losing a daughter and son almost annihilated them. Their indomitable life force drove them to escape the harrowing captivity.
Barefoot and starving, resolve was all they had. They fled into the dark jungle. Days passed as they drank from rain-filled leaves. But the hunting patrols obliterated people, triggering paranoia that ravaged their hope. The futility of their lives engulfed them yet they pressed on.
Refugee convoys rumbled by and my family finally took the plunge. They leapt on, escaping the peril. Three decades of their lives vanished in a single moment.
For years, my parents and their surviving son lived in refugee camps across Thailand and the Philippines. Amidst the instability, their daughter was born.
But in 1975 the Khmer Rouge genocide seized, tortured and exterminated families by the millions. For the next three years, my parents endured the killing-field collectives and were forced into slave labor. The tragic sorrow of losing a daughter and son almost annihilated them. Their indomitable life force drove them to escape the harrowing captivity.
Barefoot and starving, resolve was all they had. They fled into the dark jungle. Days passed as they drank from rain-filled leaves. But the hunting patrols obliterated people, triggering paranoia that ravaged their hope. The futility of their lives engulfed them yet they pressed on.
Refugee convoys rumbled by and my family finally took the plunge. They leapt on, escaping the peril. Three decades of their lives vanished in a single moment.
For years, my parents and their surviving son lived in refugee camps across Thailand and the Philippines. Amidst the instability, their daughter was born.
In 1981 my family arrived in America, battered survivors of the Khmer Rouge. I was born soon after. My parents could no longer mention the past due to the tragedy. But their horticultural wisdom in the gardens became their safe haven.
For most of my life I felt untethered, unsure of who I was. Scent became my bridge to that part of myself lingering to be remembered. Still to this day in Los Angeles, the fragrance of night blooming Jasmine brings back my past.
My journey with LENTO FRAGRANCES is a way to heal and share a quiet kind of beauty with the world. LF is a reinvention of my horticultural heritage.
In 1981 my family arrived in America, battered survivors of the Khmer Rouge. I was born soon after. My parents could no longer mention the past due to the tragedy. But their horticultural wisdom in the gardens became their safe haven.
For most of my life I felt untethered, unsure of who I was. Scent became my bridge to that part of myself lingering to be remembered. Still to this day in Los Angeles, the fragrance of night blooming Jasmine brings back my past.
My journey with LENTO FRAGRANCES is a way to heal and share a quiet kind of beauty with the world. LF is a reinvention of my horticultural heritage.