Ma Bete

It is about time I finished my reviews on this great range of fragrances from Eris Parfums. Ma bête or "My Beast" fulfills it's namesake thoroughly and embodies what it conceptually sets out to accomplish. I am proud to see an animalic, indolic chypre of this intensity and daring caliber received favorably, if anything, by those who have taken the time to review it on Fragrantica. It then challenges me to wonder why Ambilux by Marlou is so despised when it is almost the same orgasmic chypre spectacle. Ma Bête is an absolute juggernaut from the brand. Yet another deconstructed chypre that is, in all accounts, on the polar opposite of the spectrum from Green spell. Where Green Spell is a chypre composed of mainly top and mid notes that are fresh, ripe, nouveau and green, Ma Bête is in response a chypre composed of mainly base and mid notes that are dirty, burnt, spent, antique and animalic. With aldehydes as the only agreeable top note, the rest of Ma Bête's composition are rich and retro florals, sparkly, smokey, spices and resins, and earth tones with big, bold animalic mixtures lining the base allowing the fragrance to get straight to the point much quicker than your average chypre. Ma Bête starts sparkly, extroverted and heady reminiscent of golden showers. If you have kids or took care of children who may have wet the bed or themselves at some point beware this part may smell quite gauche to you. This retro pissiness remains in the background becoming an alluring, sweaty, and pheromonal/musky nature reminiscent of such things as, Revlon Intimate, La Nuit by Paco Rabbane, Rochas Femme, or Estee Lauder Youth Dew, generating a slightly furry sensibility in the mid when a natural sweetness is enhanced by the flowers. Sun-baked neroli and jasmine that tease an almost burnt incense quality are somehow smoothly introduced and slow down the pace of this excited beast allowing for a warm nutmeg to blossom providing more zappy textures that tingle and arouse. The profile of the indolic flowers alongside the spicy, animalic base in Ma Bête is gamey, savory, fatty and spent almost reminiscent of what they would smell like if extracted via enfleurage technique. Ultimately the blending here is quite stunning, clever, maybe even game-changing when we take into account that this "Big-City" chypre was made recently, IFRA regulations abound. I must admit Ma Bête even for me was slightly scary in the beginning, even though I'm partial to animalics. I do not appreciate when animalics are done in perfumes as a gimmick, as an ill advised notion that "dirty always means sexy" or for contest or shock value. I do not have patience for those. And yes, I know Antoine has done the most infamous one, "baffff!!". But even I am at fault because I do love the house of Zoologist and its duckling Hyrax, meant to highlight the ingredient of hyraceum quite literally. I have tolerance for only so many dirty fragrances and usually its my personal opinion that a vibe just feels off or pretentious about a fragrance. Ultimately, enjoy what you want. I'm just picky and scrutinize from animalics, the one's that to me seem like they were created smartly, not merely for shock value, but to be worn and enjoyed. With a slightly cheesy but cute name aside, Ma Bête is to me a successfully sincere hommage to the classics. Strangely, I enjoy that the name Ma Bête doesn't take itself too seriously leading one to doubt it, but once unleashed this thing is bonkers good and quite fitting of its name... Mostly unisex. A gorgeous, extroverted, complex and big personality chypre. Vintage in spirit. Innovated for the modern world. 🕯💐🐅 10/10

This fragrance caught me by surprise. It is very different from anything else in the Eris three-set collection that two local boutiques carry together (along with the book about fragrances, I assume also by Eris, displayed next to them that everybody raves about and I want to read). I smelled it at random, along with several other fragrances, while waiting for some samples I had spent hours picking out to be prepared for me, I had to stop and do a double- and triple-take. It was overtly sensual to me, almost obscene, without being coy or come-hither or sexy in a blatant vulgar or prurient way. I wore it that night (I sample fragrances by putting them on after an evening shower, smelling them throughout the evening as I go about cooking, etc, then wearing them to bed and seeing what I think of them in the morning, if I can still smell them, and if they subconsciously shifted in my mind during sleep somehow. I was surprised to LOVE it, because it was nothing like the smokey, woody, spicy, oud perfumes that I had gone to the Tigerlily boutique to sample. It was, and is, the odd ball out in my sample collection (on a middle-class income in the exorbitant bay area, and having only gotten into niche and boutique fragrances in a serious way earlier this year, I cannot afford to build a huge fragrance collection quickly, although I'm working through some four dozen samples I've bought, figuring out which to acquire and whether I will wear them. By next morning, the lingering smell made me wanat to BARF. I couldn't tell if it was that scent alone or something in the air in my apartment, but unconsciously all through my morning shower I kept thinking of a male urinal. It was skanky. But that weekend I went to a different boutique, where I again saw it displayed, liked it to buy a sample of again, and this time LOVED on first scent and overnight. This is very intense and polarizing to me. I could imagine somebody getting close to me and deciding they either loved me or could no longer associate with me at all on the basis of this fragrance alone. Which is not to say it is cloying. It is very, very, sexual without being 'sexy'. I like this polarity, this difficulty. I like that it arouses such strong emotion in me. I like even that I hated it for a few hours and later couldn't understand why. It didn't bore me, and it is unforgettable. I kept wanting to smell it, kept--and keep--wanting to figure out what the hell I really feel about it. Enough so, in fact, that it is now the second most desirable fragrance in my budding collection, and I plan on buying it at the next discount bazaar held at Tigerlily perfumery (dec 18, 2016--san francisco, btw). It keeps changing its essential nature on me, but never have I smelled something so purely animalic that nevertheless doesn't smell of sweat. It is not leathery, either. But animalic for sure--in a private way that makes me wonder if others can smell waht I am smelling, too. It feels impolite to smell it--or to smell of it--in public, like reading a porno magazine at a newsstand. That is exactly why I do plan to wear it in public; and why it might become an evening standby (if only I attended more evening events). I would definitely not wear this to work for fear of my boss asking me to tone down my fragrance-wearing in general and thus depriving me of one of the great pleasures of every morning.

What a gorgeous, sophisticated scent. I would call it an Aromatic Spicy/Woody Chypre. (I can't see it as an Oriental, and it reminds me in no way of BAL À VERSAILLES). It actually reminds me of an early-70's mousse-de-saxe masculine, like ARAMIS, or even Hermès ÉQUIPAGE . Reminds me much of an early-70's Louis Féraud masculine I owned aeons ago. I actually am NOT getting the funky animalics everyone mentions (but that's only because I tend to go directly for your truly hardcore animalic numbers like AMBILUX, KIEHL'S and MKK); if animalics are here, they are subordinated to the pungent patchouly/woody/spicy accords. Never sweet, this scent is definitely alluding to Midcentury French perfumery. The medicinal/aromatic nagarmotha head, laced with neroli, descends into a provocative, sexy, ultra-glam confluence of growling dark floralcy and muted, mysterious spices, with its retro patchouly/oakmoss tang throughout. Surprised that oakmoss is not listed as a note above, because it is undeniably present here. I am wondering what the sweet fruit note is at the heart of MA BÊTE... it seems stone-fruit-like, but odd... I think it might be davana, which has a curious "poisoned peach" smell to it. Can't believe MA BÊTE is designated feminine, as it seems like a suave vintage Euro-masculine to me. Like a Piguet BANDIT or EL AZURÉE, a woman would wear this only if she dared to project a real androgynous, take-no-prisoners swaggering Euro-sophistication. MA BÊTE is powerful, wickedly sexy, and brimming with wit, attitude and panache throughout. You fellas have to sample this. I'm smitten. [Update--->] Okay, 5 hours later in far drydown... Now I'm getting the animal notes... a urinaceous, sheep's piss note, haha. They were cleverly hidden by the powerful upper notes. Reminds me of the urinaceous qualities of AMBILUX or KOUROS. [Update II--->] I'm amazed that this perfume has gotten so little love and attention. Luca Turin basically just dismissed it with a snort. Yet I think it's one of the most beautiful, intelligent and genuinely unique numbers I've sniffed in the Millennium. Maybe its animalic qualities, not inconsiderable, scare off the fruitchouli-and-bubblegum crowd...? If MA BÊTE had been released in the 1940's, it would've been hailed as the Second Coming.

I really like Ma Bête. I was sure it was love. Upon first application, I got equal parts fresh bright neroli, narcotic jasmine and aldehydes set against an animalic odor that creates such a fantastic blend. It’s supported by a slightly salty & earthy patchouli which is just at the right level. Strikes the perfect unisex leaning feminine appeal. I was certain it was an immediate buy. But...I washed the sweater I applied it on. I don’t put this sweater through the dryer, so maybe this is part of the issue. When I was hanging the sweater in my closet, I thought “where is that awful sour piss smell coming from?” and followed my nose to the sleeve of my sweater where I was appalled. A potent rank stale urine was left behind, and I had a very stark visual. The visual was this: an older woman once beautiful and graceful now has a naked face and scraggly gray hair, is in her darkened home being patronizingly beckoned to follow by a personal nurse. The stench of a potty chair hangs in the air, drowning out her excellent vintage perfume collection. She’s standing in the gleam of an unconvered white lightbulb glaring at me- a glare that says time is thief that eventually robs us all, no matter your taste or social status. Scary. So scary. Also stinky. The urine smell stayed through another wash, hindered but unbroken. I wore the sweater regardless, and could tell my boyfriend was politely ignoring odor wafting from my wrist as we did a crossword puzzle over lunch. Despite this, I still kind of want to make Ma Bête work. That pre-wash ecstasy! Maybe it’s like a bad relationship, where sometimes it’s so good that you try to ignore the obvious fact that it isn’t working in the bigger picture. Maybe just another sample on different clothing...

Sampled this before a night out with some close friends. I, an enjoyer of aldehydic florals with animalic and/or leathery base notes, loved it. It indeed evoked the vibe of a well-loved fur boa, worn to so many parties that it absorbed the scents permeating those rooms: the attendees' perfumes, of course, but also their sweat, their drinks, and perhaps the intermingled smoke of their cigarettes with the burning of the fireplace. This image was only strengthened by the speakeasy aesthetic of the bar in which we gathered. On the other hand, my friends were not fans, with one saying it smelled like piss. Granted, I brought my arm right up to their noses, and the animalic notes were much more potent up close than in the scent trail, but I'd surmise this is not a crowd pleaser, at least among modern sensibilities. Ma Bête projected within an arm's length for the first three or so hours, and its longevity was impressive: one spray on my forearm was still faintly detectable the next day, despite having showered before bed. The scent seemed to develop linearly, not undergoing any significant changes in character, so if you don't like it on initial spray, it probably won't grow on you either. In summary, I think Ma Bête does what it sets out to do very well, but the specificity of this aesthetic ideal makes the resulting scent a polarizing experience. It's not inexpensive either, so I definitely advise against blind buying.

I love the way perfumers are attempting to recreate the old animalics such as castoreum and civet in perfumes. I had been searching for a musk that was not sweet and was not powdery, an almost impossible thing in the perfume world, and then I found it in Ma Bete. I have to admit I don't like the opening notes. I'm not sure if it's the nutmeg or the aldehydes or the combination together, but the opening fragrance on this was rather offputting to me. However, it only lasts about 30 seconds, and then the heart of the fragrance began, and it really did a great job of blending well with my skin chemistry. In fact, that's how it does remind me of a vintage perfume, in that it does develop and not stay linear as so many modern perfumes do. There are no flowery, sweet notes. I don't get a lot of the jasmine sambac in this at all. The Tunisian neroli is very earthy and almost herbal. I can't say that it does remind me of an old-fashioned style perfume, except I do have an old version of Piguet Visa, and it also used costus in its base, so this does remind me a little of that old discontinued version of Visa, very musky and earthy and resinous with styrax, full of the "unwashed hair smell." This is a fragrance for someone who really enjoys animalic notes without much sweetness. Very unisex, sexy and risque. A great boudoir scent.

This is a second review. I now own a bottle of Ma Bête; we’re back together and it’s real this time, it’s love. My first review of this has an unfortunate test run on the wrong fabric. Because of this experience, after I bought my bottle I wondered something that probably every animalic lover wonders at some point which is “why did I just drop all this money on piss perfume?”. The piss didn’t come back to haunt me this time, the way it had on my sweater previously. Ma Bête is beautiful. It smells like chilled bitter and slightly waxy neroli, in the best way. It has dusty facets that remind me of books. The patchouli is a little salty, like skin. I saw a negative review on Luckyscent that said something like Ma Bête is for a “woman of the world” and I agree, but in a positive way. Wearing this makes me feel sophisticated, confident, and grown. For reference, I’m 41 years old. Nothing should make me feel grown, because I already am and have been for some time. This perfume isn’t for people who post silly memes captioned “it me”. It’s not for people who play candy crush. It’s not for people who say “adulting”. If this perfume had a model, it could be Helen Mirren. Despite all this, Ma Bête doesn’t have an age group. It’s more of a personality type and it transcends age. I don’t regret buying the piss perfume, at all.

I have a VERY old mini of Septieme Sens (which definitely has natural animalics in it), and this feels like a sibling to that. I smell a lot of indole in this, but don’t pick up on any civet, so I don’t get the “poopy” notes other people smell (indole reads like morning breath to me, not sh*t). I really, really like this, and think it’s the best a modern animalic in the vein this is going to get, but I agree with those who say you can tell it’s lacking that little bit extra? I do really appreciate scents like this, though, because I do believe in the personhood of non-human animals and don’t want them tortured or killed just so I can smell good (to me). And the dry down is GOOD. As for folks asserting people only wear scents like this because of the image they present...I loved this sh*t way back when I was five and was given that Septieme Sens mini. My mom was like, “OMFG, Child, do NOT wear that!” We don’t all love the same things! That’s okay! 😂 Just because my tastes don’t veer to the sweet/sexy/sugar/pretty/clean/whatever variety does not mean I’m trying to project some lewk to...my cat and dog in my home office? I’m just a middle-aged b*tch who likes to smell like rotting flowers and a little filth.

My partner said this to me: “You smell like a gorilla enclosure.” “Why, thank you!” It wasn’t a compliment, but I took it as such. The impression is not completely inaccurate. Ma Bete is deeply animalic in an old school, retro way. The styrax looms very large. The throat-scratchingly dry indolic qualities of jasmine push limits to the breaking points, and neroli’s metallic sheen blindingly gleams like a white light off of a knife edge. The aldehydes are crystalline, like dried sweat - salty and sharp thanks to laying over the styrax - and the spices don’t keep things cool and woody, instead they bring the filth. As the blinding white light dims and the knife edge dulls, yet they both still remain, the styrax slightly shifts into the leathery and dirty skin of a red blooded animal. Cedar brings some stiff, woody muscularity and pepper, and patchouli some dank, green, and funky dirt. My beast, whatever it is, does not like cages. It is wild, loud, and free. Like the feelings you would get meeting a lion eye-to-eye all of a sudden, the terror, fascination, and awe are things you are not likely to forget.

I've never wanted to post a review before even though I read this site everyday as it's my preferred form of distraction. I LOVE this fragrance. I collect green chypres from the 70s and 80s but I don't wear them much in public as they are a bit heavy for work. This isn't a green chypre but it's not sweet either. It's frank and adult. The animalic tones aren't roaring, they purr quietly. At the end of the day I can still smell them there. The jasmine isn't cloying or screechy, the whole composition just hums along nicely, occasionally surprising you with whiffs of the different components like a playful moving shadow of light and dark. It's suggestive of sex without being overtly provocative. This is the fragrance I've been waiting for my whole adult life, a modern update to the green animalic fragrances like Jean Luis Scherrer. Those ones from the 70s and 80s require a ballgown. Ma Bete is more carefree than that. It's not for little girls though, I don't think I would have dared wear it before the age of say, 38.

Is there such a thing as a modern vintage? I think the two can coexist when inspiration like the animalic aldehydes from eras past come together to create an Eris present. Ma Bête is sweaty without being swarthy, with that aldehydic-floral-animalic combination that makes you take notice but not in a questioning, "What's that smell?" kind of way. It's dirty yet clean at the same time, not abusing that license to be a bit devious by doing it in a classy way, unfolding with spices and white florals in teasing waves. Just when you think you've got it figured out, there it morphs again, taking another direction. Is it fruity...is it creamy...is it mossy...is it flowery...is it spicy... Don't get me wrong, Ma Bête can be a beast, but it's a very sophisticated, elegant one that time travels to the past, making you feel part of it.

Wow. A fragrance that's definitely NSFW? I can see this one be a tad bit divisive, haha! It's really old school. It's really modern. It's a wonderful floral in a BDSM house? Lots of contradictions here, lots of ins and outs. I can definitely imagine Jackie Trehorn, or one of his movie stars wearing this stuff. It lasts... forever. So, wearing it is sort of a commitment. HUGE scent! I won't get into descriptions here other than it reminds me of a modern take on perfumes from way back in the day that I always loved. It also reminds me of an old girlfriend. Her friends called her "Hollywood" and it was an apt nickname. She was quite the adventurous lady. I adored her. Still have 3/4 of the sample left. I bought a bottle for when it runs out. I love this stuff. 10/10 for this Masterpiece.

Just two sprays of this, and I feel knocked off-kilter with pleasure. My circuitry’s on the fritz; I've hit sensory overload. Even four hours later, I’m still wobbly. I wouldn’t trust myself to drive while this is still pulsing off my wrist. Maybe I needed to work up to this scent, and I’m having this reaction because I haven’t spent enough time with big animalic perfumes. But to my nose, fwiw, this doesn’t actually smell fecal or pissy. The jasmine here is huge and dense. The neroli and aldehydes impart an expensive soapiness, even deep into the dry down. The animalics smell old-fashioned but not old. I don’t find anything in this perfume challenging except its headiness. Next time, I’ll keep it to one spray at most.

Ma Bete: dignified, beautiful, domesticated but with a primal wild streak. This beauty is evocative of something that Snowbell would smell like. Yes, Snowbell from the movie Stuart Little, the lovable antagonist male Persian cat -- white, purebred, well-groomed with a vein of sarcasm. The aldehydes here are plush and fleeting, not sharp. The animalic notes are leathery, furry, dense. The florals are but an accent and add to the luxurious depth, dense woody softness and delicately dry, bitter bite. Ma Bete is growing on me with her persistent, comforting low growl. She's a captivating furry beast that makes me feel sophisticatedly bodacious when I'm in her company.

First spray made me immediately think two things: 1) I LIKE!!! and 2) Joan Crawford circa Mildred Pierce. Ma Bete is a fiercely independent woman with pencil thin eyebrows wearing a mink stole and she don't take guff from nobody!! She's sharp as nails, terrifying as all get out, and smokes like a chimney. When she asks for a light, you damn well better hope ya got one ;-) Ma Bete IS very animalic but in all the right ways, similar to Bianchi's work. The reviewers complaining this smells foul, well -sure, it's raunchy, but also masterfully composed in the highly competent hands of Antoine Lie!! This is a fun ride, and I'm enjoying it :-)

I only get the animalic, neroli and jasmine with a bit of sweetness. Not sweetness per se, just a feel of « goldness » (not a real word, I know). It’s very animalic at first spray and a little green from the neroli. Then, 5 minutes in, it’s settles into an animalic jasmine (45 animalic/45jasmine/10 « gold »). I spray this in the nook of my elbow, stick my nose in the space created when I fold my arm over my nose and inhale. This is a perfume that makes my eyes close. I love it, it makes me feel sexy and dangerous. This is the kind of perfume you wear when meeting a fine (and refined) man.

Ma Bête smells like animal fur with a hint of hairspray aldehydes, dangerous enough to not fall into the dog show. This is a taut, steel-jawed, animalic leather, exuding a sweaty physicality that only serves to make its relatively ‘innocent’ materials – such as the neroli – even raunchier. M. Antoine Lie reminds us that neroli has a feral nature all its own with its indigenous indoles and showed that he knows how to control the roar of claw-bearing beasts; Ma Bete displays this talent to a praiseworthy degree. A beautiful work of courage.

What an absolutely magnificent and intoxicating composition. There's nothing like it out there. It pulls together the most sophisticated aspects of vintage perfume, and presents them to you unapologetically yet effortlessly. After sampling the whole range I immediately ordered this (and Green Spell). It's an erotic little number, and makes me think of steaming nether regions, heaving bosoms, and tightening trousers. Ha! I agree with Bubbles1964 - this is for an experienced nose. One that enjoys truffling about.

My friend dared me to over-spray Ma Bete as we were leaving the perfume store (and, not being a baby I did,) and immediately upon entering the evening air my spine straightened, my hairs vibrated, and my teeth grew. This is the musk your mother warned you about! This shit is terrifying and beautiful, and, as my friend can attest, I seriously twice considered running back into the store, snapping the atomizer off the tester bottle, and guzzling this bad juice down.

Before getting this one, I was seriously considering Musc Tonkin. However, after testing it, I found it a bit too poopy and cloying on my skin. While I might revisit it in the future, Ma Bête ticked all the boxes that Musc Tonkin was missing. It is animalic and powdery, but compared to MT it also has a slight spiciness that breaks up the otherwise soft, musky sweetness. Nutmeg and white flowers are quite prominent on my skin.

for me it’s the animalic part of kouros if you don’t like the other ingredients of it, i used to wear kouros just for the animalic part, it’s also reminds me of the animalic vintage perfumes such as la nuit by pacorabanne, it gives also hyraceum vibe, i do like because it’s straight ahead animalic such as marlou’s perfumes specialy ambilux, i recommends this for animalic fans, it’s so daring perfume and shameless.

Unisex, I would say for all ages, young adults(if super confident) to the more mature. Evening, anytime of the year. Club, dinner, super heavy. Heats up and mixes well on the skin X

A "beast", but a tame one. Like a vintage perfume but with the volume turned way down. Only those close will smell the filth!

People calling this shitty are being dramatic. This is what perfume used to smell like. How old are you people?

A dazzling, luminous opening above a well of animalic darkness.

@rosebush340 I like the Marlou line, too.

I like Ma Bête a lot, and what I like about it is that it's indeed vintage-inspired, but it's different from perfumes like Salome or Maai, which are more "boudoir-style," sensual, vampy, heady and rather heavy. Ma Bête is casual, more approachable, better for daytime. It makes me think "Breakfast at Tiffany's," a chic perfume for a classy and upbeat personality. I picture cardigan sets, houndstooth skirt suits, and faux pearl necklaces, not ballroom gowns nor lingerie. Super charming. I get all the notes listed, although the animalic note as well as aldehydes and jasmine are the dominant ones. When you have aldehydes, jasmine and civet, it's inevitable that there will be a comparison to Chanel No.5. There is just a bit of a resemblance, but even No.5 feels darker, richer, more complex and seems to be more of a special occasion perfume in comparison. But Ma Bête truly does have a huge, roaring animalic note. Very beastly, in fact. So if it's something highly animalic you are looking for, definitely give Ma Bête a sampling. I think Ma Bête straddles the line between modern and vintage very nicely, better than perhaps any other perfume of this newish "modern-vintage" style.

This takes me back to being a kid, the women around me wearing the popular civety/floral/aldehydic perfumes of the time. Big intimidating adult bodies fussing about, skirts swishing, the perfumes creating subconscious but unavoidable associations of “bathroom” - from potpourri bowl and cleaning spray to even that hint of urine beneath it all. Evoking larger-than-life matronly bodies making no secret of their all-too-human functions, I find this kinky AF and hope Antoine is making progress with a good Freudian therapist.

Only for the experienced nose: yes to refined and pretty, but upon closer inspection you realize Ma Bête is sitting on top of a thick, animalic stew of nasty, dirty sex—the good kind. There’s a dirty panties vibe going down. Even my picky husband made a positive comment. Vintage is another word that comes to mind. Not for the faint of heart, I like Ma Bête but in a kind of awestruck way. Not an “office safe” perfume unless you are trying to seduce your boss.

Ma Bête takes all the good stuff from Musc Tonkin, puts it in a suit of armor and pees on it. I respect the game but it's like baby's first year at art school: fun to watch but there are clumsy Abramović references everywhere.

Based on the reviews, I expected something completely different. I think the power of suggestion has worked its magic on fragrance lovers once again and the other reviewers have been influenced by the name “Ma Bête” (My Beast in French). To me, this smells like the “Super Hit” Nag Champa incense, without the smokiness. I don’t get anything “dirty” from it, it’s simply a very well executed mature scent. Many hours after spraying, the animalic element eventually does start to show through all the Nag Champa, but if like me you’re buying this expecting the biggest animalic bomb ever, then you won’t get what you are looking for. I expected it to be extreme and challenging, but in the end it is a pleasant and wearable scent, so I’ll be passing it on to a friend.

Holy cow! This is 100% animalistic, BEASTY, when I sprayed this I pictured a mythological half human-creature. This smells like a mammal. Few hours later it dries down to styrax and cedar, and still, very animalistic! I’ve read in the comments some ladies wear this, is it because it makes some men aggressively jump on you? I could definitely see this smell wake up a bunch of hormones or animal instincts! Personally I’m not sure I want a man to spray this all over him. _____ Sillage & Longevity : 9/10 Originality : 9.5/10 Quality & Value : 7/10 8.5/10

Old-fashioned spicy potpourri and only a whisper of freshly bathed kitten. Nothing sexy, skanky, dangerous, or dirty about it. I can’t detect any nutmeg. This is what I imagine pygmy puffs smell like.

Not for me. My first thought was "this is diaper-y" - a clean diaper, but the aldehydes sure are powerful. I don't get any of the floral notes, all I smell right off the bat is powdery aldehydes and animalic musk. It's very old fashioned, which makes sense given the house's style and Barbara Herman's love of vintage scents, but it's not a scent profile I vibe with. I dislike other fragrances with this profile as well like Chanel No. 5 (which I dislike more than this). I kind of cringed when I first sprayed this on me, but thankfully it calms down a bit into something not so present after a few minutes. The jasmine peeks out a bit, but it's unfortunately just the indolic element for me and none of the floral sweetness. The animalic musk, patchouli, and styrax only magnify this. I don't think it smells indolic overall, but it definitely brings out the animalic notes that continue to duke it out with the powder for center stage. I don't think this is a fragrance you wear for you. I think this is something you wear for an image you want to project. That doesn't follow my personal ethos of wearing perfume, because if you don't like it yourself, what's the point? 3.5/10.

I don't feel like writing a scathing review because I don't feel it's respectful to the house or the perfumer (and Mr. Lie is a highly skilled perfumer), but clearly this is way out of my league. I've always struggled with musk and man, this is my bane. I don't even know what I'm smelling, this just truly made me retch the first time I got a serious whiff of it. I'm 42 and there is no chance in hell I would ever feel comfortable wearing this. I fully admit I'm way too damn girly for this. Even then, if my BF came in smelling like this, I would send him into the shower for half an hour to get it off (and it probably wouldn't, this is BEAST mode). And yet, my hat is off to those who can pull this off with confidence and find anything to enjoy in this. My senses are just not wired for this one. Definitely not a good starting place for those just getting into animalics. This will scar you for life.

Somewhat overrated modern floral woody musk scent with a distinct animalic vibe. The perfume opens with notes of aldehydes, neroli and slight nutmeg. The heart is mostly jasmine with hints of cypriol and styrax. The perfume settles on a musky base of synthetic civet, patchouli and cedar. The unisex scent has moderate sillage and good longevity. Those into vintage style chypres and animalics will dig this modernized elegant take on an age old genre. I found it well blended but characterless. Enjoy!

If you love aldehydes and animalic scents you might like this fragrance. It truly smells like an authentic vintage perfume, which I can appreciate. I do not like how it smells on me, but will definitely keep my sample to wear a tiny bit on occasions when I want to wear something that takes me back to a time when I did not yet exist. This is truly a unique fragrance.

Starts out nicely like a cross between L'Ombre Fauve and Musc Tonkin then something bad happens... It morphs into a horse pasture saturated with urine. It made me sad.

This smells like a bathroom where someone took an epic dump, tried to cover up the smell with an off-brand Poo-Pourri, and then accidentally dipped their pants or shirt sleeve in the toilet bowl. This does not feel animalic to me - there is something vaguely pleasant, but the toilet spray vibe ruins it. It also reminds me of those bowls of purple and brown potpourri chips from Dollar General that people put in their houses to cover up pet and cooking smells but end up making the house smell like chemical death because they also don't open their windows and the bathrooms are too close to the dining room table. Pass.

Disgusting. I know ma bete means "my beast" but this smells like an animal in desperate need of a shower. Not in a B.O way, but it smells like it's been dead for a while and is covered in dust

I've been endlessly curious about Ma Bete, largely because I've become increasingly obsessed with the work of Antoine Lie. I finally managed to get my hands on a small sample, and thank heavens I didn't blind buy. At first, I genuinely wondered what everyone was talking about. Ma Bete arrives carrying a bouquet of flowers, almost innocently. But don't be fooled. It opens with an unapologetically old-fashioned floral aldehydic accord, reminiscent of a classic perfume from decades gone by. It's not really my style, but nothing prepared me for what happened next. The indolic florals slowly tip over the edge and, my word... the fragrance starts drifting in and out of what can only be described as dried wee. One moment it's floral, the next it's unmistakably animalic and urinous, then back again. It keeps you utterly confused and slightly outraged. The performance is absolutely beastly too. One spray has created a scent cloud around me that feels impossible to ignore. I'm struggling to imagine an occasion where I'd actually wear it. Yet here I am, sitting at home alone, lifting my wrist to my nose, while also trying to keep my arm as far away from me as possible. It's equal parts horror and fascination. There's no question this was executed expert-Lie. It challenges your expectations, blurring the line between beauty and repulsion in a way that very few perfumes dare. Whether you find it captivating or completely offensive, it certainly won't leave you indifferent. Is it well crafted? Absolutely Do I want to smell like it? Unfortunately... no. Maybe I'm just not grown-up enough yet.

Ma Bete is for mature audiences, wearer discretion is advised. The jasmine is in heat and this crisp, seemingly demure neroli is its wing man, but has a few dirty thoughts of its own. They enter the room and use the urinal, and all eyes are on them. The natives are restless and randy, and the body heat elevates. The florals have consented to be groped by a leathery grip, sweat forms in beads, and they let it happen. The scenery is decorated with oil drums and various apparatuses that neroli has never seen before and the jasmine has long dreamt of using one day. What started as an illuminated entry leads to hands guiding our protagonists into a dark and hot chasm of excitement. A visit to Ma Bete takes courage, but the experience is memorable, and keeps our team wanting to come again...and again. It's a culmination of all the (somewhat) discreet sensuousness of 20th century perfumery brought to a contemporary full display. Echoes of glamour and decadence meet depravity and lust, where clean meets dirty, elegance trips over filth and still looks unscathed. Our floral friends meet two new pals: costus and patchouli, and they have an "after party." When the sunlight hits, the reminders of this adventure linger, and it can't be decided if it was all very wrong or so right it was almost sacred.

This is more of a vintage fragrance, it has that animalic that bursts the sensations out load of the ones who smell it, it is core to me and quite strong in animalic but the kind of it that is quite alluring to my sense. Ironically, i don't want to wear it myself thou! maybe it is quite strong to my nose, or a bit harsh and it's exactly like Bandit by Robert Piguet i love it but it does disturb me when i wear it! maybe im not used to such fragrances or maybe it does mingle harshly with my skin! BUT i can't deny that i liked this one, maybe cause it triggers some scenes in my mind or maybe memories! Edit (17th Aug 2021) Wow... when i read my previous review... i sounded quite ekh :p "i don't want to wear it myself"?? WTH u r talking about :)) u SERIOUS? :D but i can't denied that it triggers memories, specially it is quite vintage, and pretty animalic vintage. When i came back to it and had it on my skin, i knew that i have sniffed it somewhere i just couldn't put my hands on till i caught it.... it is "Salome" by Papillon. I can't say it's identical, but i can say it's a variation of it and around 90% similar to it. "Ma Bete" is lightened a bit, with slightly tiny cumin sweet, but it's very much similar to "Salome".

STRENGTH I was looking for an intense offensive perfume and found it here. When the package arrived in the mail, I could smell this fragrance through the box. I accidentally sprayed it twice. The air suddenly became hard to breathe. Mind you, I smoke a pack a day. It wasn't the cigarettes pinch this time around. Ten minutes later, I put my arm infront of my 5 year old. He started coughing as if he just ripped a bong. But, he didn't say anything bad about the perfume. Just saying- that intense. NOTES Intense aldehydes, nutmeg, cypriol oil and animalic notes all the way from the wrist. I've never been to a French whore house, but id imagine it'd smell like Ma Bete - an expensive one with clientele like Richard Gere from pretty woman. From my wrist to nose, arms at sides, this perfume smells like I'm wearing a fur coat. If you smell it up close, there is an animal piss smell; the primitive kind used for hunting. These scents are used to lure in animals for a reason. The next time I spray it will be on my lower inner thing.

The first couple minutes of Eris' Ma Bete smells nothing like the rest of it: aldehydic spices dominate( nutmeg, also ginger), plus some green florality via neroli. Rarely is an opening so completely and dramatically decapitated from the rest of a perfume's profile. But very soon, that detached drapery of top notes falls away to reveal the main event: Quasi-animalic, overdosed-indolic jasmine, taken right to tipping edge of a latrine. Once again, perfumery's psychologically alarming strategy of confusing the floral and fecal has beeen invoked. Dabs of other polarizing notes (nagarmotha, patchouli) may further bring about the flaring of nostrils. If worn in the right amount and setting, such scents are rumored, by some, to be alluringly provocative and attention-grabbing, ...though such grabbed attention may not always be so positive. ("What stinks?") All the same, ...if you really know what you want, ...and you know you really want this, ...Eris does a bang-up job of providing it.

This is a very well blended aldehyde-musk combo. The aldehydes are certainly the star here, sparkling from opening to early dry down. There is a friendly peachy sweetness in the opening. Notes of citric aldehydes, honeyed white florals, and natural musk stand out, but their boundaries are diffuse and meld together seamlessly. Cyproil oil blends perfectly with jasmine. Animalic notes are of the warm and fuzzy variety. Smooth and a good intro scent to animalics. Ma Bete is reminiscent of a Chanel-style aldehydic fragrance (opening reminds me of Coco) but without the bones. Pleasant and structurally solid, but lacks the personality that fragrances of this category should have. Where is the drama? Where is the story? It’s a quite boring animalic. Longevity is stellar, however. How’d they get the effervescent quality of aldehydes to last so long?

This is a dream of a scent. It reminds me of Revillon's Detchema in some ways - particularly in style and tone. Both employ a soft veil of bright aldehydic fuzz over an animalic structure, boosting the furry facets into three dimensional proportions. The story goes that Greta Garbo went to see Jean Cocteau's film of the same name and at the end was so swept into the romance of its story that when the Beast's fate was uncertain she stood in the audience and cried, "Ma Bete!" It's as if she forgot who she was and made a spectacle of herself not as a famous actress but as an everyday someone who succumbed in a selfless way to the beauty of Cocteau's poetry. Similarly, the scent makes you forget yourself and your context in the singular drama of its poetry. I love it more each time I wear it. Worth standing up for.

This is a fascinating perfume. Warm, floral, spiced, sparkling, sweaty, earthy, intense... The juxtaposition created between the notes in this fragrance puzzles my nose, even to the point that I occasionally convince myself that this scent just isn't for me - yet I constantly find myself coming back to it. It's incredibly evocative of the grown glamour-girl scents of 1950's, but doesn't necessarily smell dated or like you're wearing an "old" perfume. It feels like lived-in glamour - this is what I imagine some bombshell smelling like at the end of a long night of dancing. Flushed, slightly salty, yet still delicately efflorescent. Ma Bête is an excitingly distinctive and naughty perfume for our sometimes scent-phobic contemporary culture; it's definitely not for everyone, but you'll know if it's meant for you.

A lot of these Eris Parfums have great quality ingredients and creative ideas, but then the perfumer/creative director just completely overdoses an ingredient, seemingly for the shock factor. The perfumes are interesting to sample, but that trick gets old quick. In Ma Bête, the star of the fragrance is the "animalic accord." There's actually a very pleasant neroli, spice, jasmine, woods thing going in this perfume. But they're overshadowed by "animalic accord." Warm, cozy, dirty, spicy, floral, woody... it reminds me of (a much better version of) Francesca Bianchi's Under My Skin.

Ma Bête borrows the recognizable codes of Kouros and Salome, but strips away the exact qualities that make them compelling. So take away the ’80s powerhouse machismo and old-world inspired slutty skankiness and make it “modern.” It’s like when a teenager listens to one song by a band and immediately makes it their entire identity without knowing anything else about them. Ma Bête apparently recognizes the aesthetic of animalic perfumery without understanding its emotional language. Not terrible, but uninspiring and kind of boring.