Papillon Artisan Perfumes
Anubis

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Acordes dominantes
- âmbar
- especiado quente
- couro
- doce
- almiscarado
- herbal
Pirâmide olfativa
Como ele se comporta
Fixação, projeção e ocasião — votos da comunidade internacional somados aos daqui.
Gênero
60 votos
Quando usar
- Inverno: 68 votos
- Primavera: 25 votos
- Verão: 22 votos
- Outono: 71 votos
- Dia: 33 votos
- Noite: 69 votos
Onde encontrar
Nenhum decant à venda nem vaquinha aberta agora. Marque Quero ali em cima — é o interesse da comunidade que puxa a próxima vaquinha.
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Perfumes próximos no gosto de quem curte este — bons candidatos para o próximo decant.
Impressões da comunidade internacional
Traduções chegam aos poucos — textos em inglês por enquanto.
- em inglês
Given that Lizzy (the nose behind this creation) has kept the any narrative details of her Anubis as mysterious as the pyramids themselves, we're left to our own highly imaginative devices. And, judging by the name, I'd say the Egyptians, those undisputed masters of decorating death, provided ample inspiration. So, what should you expect? Picture an extravagantly adorned funerary chamber, complete with freshly embalmed mummies and, for good measure, a few wafts of expensive incense. Surprisingly, though, this isn't some deep, dark, and brooding concoction. Anubis kicks off with a shimmering, almost effervescent resinous amber, given a gentle tinge of sweetness by an ever-so-slightly syrupy immortelle flower. A few extra balmy tendencies round out this rather opulent beginning, making it feel less like a crypt and more like a sun-drenched tomb opening. About half an hour in, as Anubis settles down, a non-animalic leather starts to emerge, presenting itself more as a soft, luxurious suede (a.k.a. saffron, based accord). You'll also catch a whisper of something herbaceous, almost like a freshly cut hay bale. Don't expect this leather to dominate the scene; instead, it acts as a sophisticated bridge to the next act. Fast forward a couple of hours, and a very dry sandalwood takes center stage, still accompanied by a ghost of that earlier herbaceousness. Overall, I'm quite impressed with the opening – it’s bright, it’s opulent, and it's quite unique. I'm generally not one for heavy ambers, but here, Anubis cleverly uses a chypre-esque floral touch to temper its resinous heft, making it surprisingly palatable (to me). Aside from perhaps the first fifteen minutes, I wouldn't call Anubis a particularly challenging wear. Once it dries down, it morphs into an intimate skin scent that will cling to you for a good long while. Just a final tip: Unless your personal style involves being wrapped head-to-toe in mummy parchment, I'd strongly advise against spraying this on clothes. You've been warned.
- em inglês
"Dark and enigmatic... beauty of two worlds in a perfume." Anubis is a 2014 fragrance from British niche fragrance house Papillon Artisan Perfumes by Liz Moores. This is yet another blind purchase for me, and the latest addition to my fragrance collection. I made a gamble by buying this without even trying once after understanding how my skin works, and it is certainly without any regrets. Anubis is the name of a legendary Egyptian god, and indeed the fragrance does invoke an image of the Egyptian deserts. On my skin, it opens with an intense notes of rich suede and a resinous combo of myrrh and olibanum (frankincense). The marriage of the trio conjures the scent that is a cross between a luxury leather bag and enigmatic incense smoke. The myrrh-olibanum is an intriguing fusion that reminds me of the scent of a Middle Eastern district, one with perfume oils and hookah, and a Christian church. Underneath the smoky leather veil lies the very subtle scent of lotus and jasmine, of which I have to be patient in order to notice it. My skin is partial towards heavy scents, and Anubis is a testament of it. It accentuates fragrances that has notes of leather and resins in particular, but it does drown floral notes a little. This fragrance is best enjoyed in cold climate (I imagine it to be beautiful in winter) or at least in cool environments. What I am surprised is, despite being heavy, the longevity and sillage is moderate. I was expecting this fragrance to be a powerhouse, but noticing how it stays close to the skin makes it very wearable to be worn daily. Even if one sprayed on himself/herself several times, it doesn't stand out as much as I thought (either that, or my skin just consumes fragrances). Although it is a unisex fragrance, I think it would appeal to the men more than the women (although there will be exceptions). It's dark, enigmatic and smoky as hell, and one has to be mentally prepared in order to pull this one off!
- em inglês
When I first tried Anubis, years ago, it was the first dark Oriental I’d ever smelled, so I didn’t have as much context as I do now. It’s a deep brown scent, ambered but not truly sweet, with some smoky nuances – and at the time I thought of myself as an amber-phobe, so it was a revelation. But there are lots of dark brown, not-too-sweet resinous scents out there fitting that description. What makes Anubis distinctive? It has a touch of bitter brightness from the orange peel; and its smoky facet is unusual, almost funky or damp-smelling, which is probably the pink lotus. Here that doesn’t refer to a fantasy note inspired by the lotus flower, but an actual extract from the plant’s root, which has a muddy, dense smell similar to oakmoss. Anubis is really a restrained, balanced scent. It’s got dark labdanum, but not as chewy or hefty as O Hira; it’s got some leather, but I wouldn’t outright call it a leather scent. The smoky incense and funky lotus are probably the dominant aspects, at least for me this time. The jasmine is definitely an accent, not the main event – it’s easy to miss altogether – but it creates a lovely, delicately shining interlude before the darkness takes over for good. There’s also an animalic phase when the castoreum takes center stage – dark-brown, satisfyingly furry, blending smoothly with the resin and smoke. The overall effect is a little somber, definitely dark and brooding, with subtle glints of brightness and surprising nuances along the way. It might actually be best to think of Anubis as a dark *incense* scent with other stuff balancing it, than a leather or amber “dark Oriental” where it’ll feel gloomy and severe next to richer fare. Anubis takes somber, smoky frankincense, which can often be too harsh for my taste, and blends it smoothly with similarly dark-toned adjacent scents until it becomes far more refined and wearable. Here, the God of the Dead is a gentleman.
- em inglês
Ordered a sample of Anubis by Papillon because it sounded good (I enjoy incense, leather and tobacco scents) and because not everyone is wearing it. Took a whiff from the sample vial and thought I’d definitely NOT be enjoying this. I did my usual test of a spritz on chest, neck and both wrists. And now, I am in LOVE! Incense. Leather. Tobacco. OMG! On my skin, this started out a very strong smoky delicious incense and then only got better. Some reviews I’ve read said there’s a hint of gasoline, and I can detect that at the heart, but it quickly gives way to jasmine to my nose. On me, the base settles into a very deep smoky, leathery incense with just a hint of powder, and the density of all that dark (dark in a mysterious, not evil kind of way) gets perfectly tempered with the sweetness of jasmine. There is enough leather and smoke in this to keep it masculine despite the jasmine IMHO. This is one of those that kept shifting on my skin, and I loved the journey from start to finish. I had to make myself stop sniffing myself! I was surprised that the sillage was fairly soft on this one, I could tell it was on me, but didn’t leave much of a scent trail according to my friends, and wish it projected just a bit more. Longevity isn’t bad, I’m getting about 6 hours of scent about a foot from my skin, then a soft skin scent after that, and on me near the end it becomes more powdery before vanishing completely. This has become a top 10 favorite in the incense/leather category for me. I would only wear this in the winter as it would be too cloying in heat I think, but also would wear it to the office since it stays fairly close to my skin. I personally experience this more on the masculine than feminine side, but can see its unisex value. I would use this for day or evening wear. This is definitely not inexpensive, so a sample first over a blind buy may be wise. As always, your results may vary!
- em inglês
A wonderfully dense and rewarding perfume of gasoline-tinged jasmine, animalic leathers and smoky resins. Truly one of a kind and perfectly attuned to the theme of Anubis. This perfume clearly falls into the broad category of a westernized nod to Egyptian culture, particularly the SHL 777/Tribute Attar school of thought running through the 2000s and into the 2010s with things like Guerlain’s Songe(which adorns the “smells like” section up above). This one however has a few big tricks up it’s sleeve that the others miss: namely an absolutely devastating earthy pink lotus absolute, a truly sweet and dirty castoreum and so much natural jasmine I’m surprised this one is IFRA compliant(is it still compliant? My nearly empty bottle is first batch and I have no idea if Ms. Moores has been forced to reform). Saffron, Jasmine and Myrhh seem to be the only common components between Songe and Anubis... No Oud here, no nutmeg, no cumin tinge, and the lightly present Immortelle is known as “curry flower” and not “cumin flower”... for better or for worse, Anubis is jammed with naturals, giving the thick liquid a prismatic, ever-changing quality of humid chewiness, compared to the primarily synthetic(and brilliant) fixed-in-place quality of Songe. It seems both Guerlain’s Thierry Wasser and Papillon’s Liz Moore were interested in this classic Egyptian mummification recipe around the same time(indeed, Ms. Moores started her business after handing out samples of this perfume years before the first bottle’s release date... marking Songe and Anubis as being composed with serious synchronicity). But we need not speculate at Liz Moores influence as she has been very open about her love of Homage Attar by Amouage. Still this is a case of the a perfumer transcending her influences and handing in a true masterpiece.
- em inglês
Phenomenal! This might sound strange, but I took the day off today and headed to my favorite Indian restaurant for lunch, with my sample of Anubis in tow. I figured in an Indian restaurant, nobody would notice I dabbed perfume on. When I applied it to my skin, the gorgeous scent immediately blended into the atmosphere. It smelled like it belonged there, almost like nag champa but exponentially finer. The listed notes throw me off. I don't know about the florals. Anubis is very well blended and has a syrupy texture. Imagine a sweet amber syrup with hints of saffron, yet surprisingly animalic too. This is right on the border of too animalic for me, it pushes the limits of what I can handle. But the other notes create such harmony that I find myself craving its note of sweaty horse hair. Sweet animalic syrup, like Arabian horse hooves dipped in ambrosia. So strange, but it's gorgeous! The base notes are like a ceremonial incense used in Ancient Egypt. It smells faintly of ancient stones. Anubis is from another time, another world! It is an extremely sophisticated work of art, yet it is so approachable. It is not quite transcendental. I think the word is SPIRITUAL. It is grounding, carnal, soulful. Edit: Anubis also reminds me of a Filipino sweet called pastillas. They are water-buffalo milk candy, covered with a thin layer of crunchy sugar. It is milky and sweet, but it tastes "game-y", as we say, and would not suit most Americans' palates unless they are a little more adventurous. I love the stuff, personally. Also, when I wrote my review I had no idea that the perfumer was trying to evoke Ancient Egypt, so I am amazed that I certainly picked up Ancient Egypt in this perfume. Liz Moores is a Master!
- em inglês
Here I go.. this perfume is Metaphysical to me! I kneel to Liz Moores for making this one. It is the most conceptual and mesmerizing perfume I've experienced of its kind. Fascination with ancient Egyptian civilization and magnificent Anubis is quite spread these days.. unfortunately it also brings much frivolity in interpretations and, at times, very superficial and entertaining use of images and ideas. Liz Moores, obviously, seriously studied and skillfully implemented the knowledge and spirit of that culture into her creation. The Balm and Incense, the scent of Jasmine that blooms at night, the Lotus flowers that float in quiet waters along the walls of the Hall of Ma'at where kind and just Anubis weighs the hearts.. I once had opportunity to speak with Indian Priest.. the scent of Jasmine, when appears to practitioner during meditation, serves as the sign of reaching the first level of ascension - as if you step through the curtain of current existence.. isn't that where the domain of Anubis is.. I buy Jasmine oil for years and treasure its aroma.. I know it well.. personally, I've found Jasmine to be a difficult aroma to intertwine with other scents. It often stands out or becomes dissonant.. but here it is perfect and pure, combined, not lost and not opposed, with smoke and balm. Black and gold are two favorite colors of Anubis - they symbolize the Light of Life germinating in the Depth of Death.. and those are the exact colors that this fragrance is reminiscing, if you accept such comparison. Overall the quality of ingredients, composition/proportions and "secrets" of formulation - are 10 out of 10 for me. It is beyond comforting, soothing, beautiful and ritualistic.
- em inglês
Whew-hoo! This is a fabulous Bentley of a perfume. Leathers are not at the top of my list but they're not at the bottom either, and until today I hadn't found one that quite suited me. This initially goes on with that birch leather note, slightly strong, animalic, with a whiff of urine, tanning-hides urine, but minutes later smoothes into suede. In the first 15 minutes it conjures up horses, horse sweat, saddles, saddle soap, and warm human skin. A sweet myrh emerges from this birch-safron opening, and a gentle amber floralcy suffuses the scent. It is no longer leather but well-used suede without the typical iris purse-compact accord I usually find. This radiates a golden tension for hours between the suede and what I'm guessing is the "pink lotus." Immortelle (one of my all-time favs of outdoor maple goodness) and jasmine, another heavy hitter are quietly held in check here. They never overwhelm the other notes but provide a very smooth wash to amplify the primary notes. It's more like a background color on canvass. When I first received this, I tried on my fiance' who has oily skin and holds scents really well, and seems to project true notes. It was HEAVEN on him, and truly unisex, both masculine and feminine and warmly sexy and inviting. On me and my dry scent-killing skin, it is equally fantastic. I adore Salome' which really goes straight to the sheets. This is more sophisticated seduction. I don't smell the incense and smoke,however, that other people are talking about. I adore incense and generally incense fragrances are in my top rotation. Perhaps while I don't sense it that's why I like this so much. To me this is just a warm, classy leather/suede.
- em inglês
Been wanting to try this for a while. The notes alone pulled me in — olibanum, myrrh, immortelle. The kind of materials that, paired with a name like that, promise something ancient — something almost ritualistic. And Anubis wears its name well. Named after the Egyptian god of embalming and mummification, this doesn’t just suggest ritual — it feels like the echo of one. This doesn’t smell like a fragrance so much as a space. A warm, dry chamber, heavy with dust and stillness. The air is thick with incense — not just the smoke of lit resins, but also the raw, slightly sharp scent of fresh, unlit resins waiting to be burned. There’s also that waxy haze of old candles slowly melting into the dark. The suede here dissolves into something else entirely — not quite leather, but parchment. Thin, fragile, timeworn. A faint inky, almost turpentine-like nuance lingers, like parchment and papyrus scrolls etched with symbols and forgotten words, rituals written and rewritten across centuries. A quiet, reverent sense of bibliosmia. Immortelle moves through it like a golden light — dry, slightly sweet, a strange warmth that feels both earthly and otherworldly. It feels calm and meditative, filled with whispers of rituals that have been and those still to come. Not dark for the sake of it — but ancient, sacred, and deeply atmospheric. As it settles, everything dissolves into a soft, resinous amber — grounded and meditative. The edges blur, the smoke thins, leaving behind a quiet warmth that feels both ancient and still. Mysterious, dry, and haunting, like the echo of another time — something that was, and in a way, still lingers
- em inglês
Yesterday finally I got a sample of Anubis. What a mesmerizing uniqeness, what a sublime exelence, right at first sniff you are surrounded by smokey leathers, bitter almonds, and sourish resins. After 10 minutes a different dimension kicks in, as a child of 80s I used to smell the outside of the helium baloons in the birthday parties of my schoolmates, it had that particular bakalite-alike signature smell on it, which I forgot how much I adored until now. And after 30 minutes a curious, desert dust smelling sand boy cocks his head behind the wall he was hiding to look at you , short after appears his mama saffron lady holding his hand covered by wild leaves dried by well meaning but still cannot help burning desert sun, right as the bitter sour milk is steaming through the aged pores of those scorching leaves.This is a masterpiece,but not of a parfumeur, rather of a tribe's healing shaman. While I cannot help sniffing over and over my wrist,I keep asking myself what makes me whorship this combination of otherwise one by one so bitter, sour, wild milky ,dry, dusty and weird smelling ingredients.I already ordered a full bottle. This ....this..I cannot work because of this in the office..cannot keep my mind straight....this is sorcery, should be forbidden. Bravo Liz Moores and the Papillon Parfums Team!! Nevertheless for that price (145€ 50ml EDP) I would expect better longevity and sillage And I agree with the comment that there isn't any hint of immortelle or other florals in the list.
- em inglês
Hot and salty leather, patchouli, ambergris. It must be the kind Liz mentioned in the interview. Anubis, named after the mummy protector of ancient Egyptian mythology, is a scent as mysterious as witchcraft to me. Anubis is magical, thick and powerful. I really appreciate Anubis, it's just as exciting, as Brendan Fraser's "The Mummy". The Anubis was on me, a constant low roar, like the knell of death. It smells of a mixture of balsamic oils that soaked the bandages and medicinal herbs used for antiseptic purposes during the mummification process. The exotic. Anubis is unlike any oriental classic I've ever smelled, is a gel-like resin that flows very slowly. A rich and powerful smoky scent that creates the illusion that Anubis contains ebony. Sticky, bitter tar that cools and solidifies after burning. The burning incense that guides the next life, the coolness of rosin and Immortelle, is in stark contrast to the warmth of a lot of sandalwood, red myrrh, and frankincense. When the fire lights up, you are amazed to see that the saffron painting on the coffin is still clear. The smell of Anubis was like a bandage, going round and round, wrapping me in a cocoon of smell. The tomb is collapsing, and the yellow sand above the head is falling. The boundless darkness extends to the entrance of the cave, the sunlight leaves, and in the long corridor there are only The rest is quiet. An excellent creation with a full score of narrative, unfathomable.
- em inglês
Oh my goodness what a beautiful scent, such a soft buttery sweet but not too sweet suede. But it’s more than that. I am not very good at describing fragrances. This one is a must buy. I bought bottles of all the other Papillon fragrances but not this one, I can kick myself coz now Max Aroma isn’t carrying it anymore. I need to buy this one and back ups of the others. Imho 50mls of a beautiful fragrance I love is not enough. I at least need 100mls. But I only have a 10ml decant of this Anubis beauty. I love how it reacts on my skin. I always wear at least two different fragrances every day. I work from home so I can wear 50 if i want. Today I wore Anubis on my right hand and Bortnikoff Triad on my left . Both are just amazing and both I only have 10ml decants of. I need to buy full bottles. I keep putting it off because I already own way too many fragrances. An embarrassing huge amount. Decants and full bottles and about a million samples...lol so for me to buy a full bottle at this point I have to really love the fragrance. And these two I do very much love. Ughhh I can hear my credit card screaming “noooooo more, use up what u got, this is how u got me in this debt mess “....lol am i the only one who’s credit card yells at her? Just me? Ok well good to know ..lol
- em inglês
Let’s analyze the so-called “Cons” listed on this page: Cons May not be suitable for those who dislike smoky/birch tar scents: False. If all you’re picking up is birch tar, then sorry, your sensitivity is shallow. You’re not catching the full range of nuances in the smoky profile, you’re basically missing the point. Not everyone may appreciate the scent: True. Some may find it too strong or overpowering: True. A divisive fragrance that might not appeal to everyone: Partially false. It’s a unique fragrance, yes, but the problem isn’t the fragrance, it’s the lack of experience or sensitivity in some people’s noses. Fragrance appreciation works just like music, some people can pick up subtle notes, others can’t. That’s life. Not ideal for everyday wear: Absolutely false. Totally wearable every day. In fact, it could easily be your signature scent. Expensive price tag: Are you kidding? You’re getting premium ingredients and a sophisticated, one-of-a-kind experience. Meanwhile, designer brands shamelessly slap a $300 tag on mass-market mediocrity. Some reviewers found it muddy or murky: Same issue as Cons 1 and 4. Sorry, not everyone has the same sensitivity. If your nose can’t keep up, that’s on you, not the fragrance. May not live up to the listed notes: See above.
- em inglês
I couldn’t believe I had this in a bag of samples marked ‘okay’ Anubis is far from okay it’s a brilliant fragrance with a very luxurious and evocative allure. The opening is a sheer onslaught of resinous goodness and heady saffron, then the leather accord develops and it’s unmistakable, slightly smoky and realistic. This is where my original appraisal comes back to haunt, because for all the beautifully smooth myrrh and benzoin notes, the lovely buttery and masculine suede/leather body, and the hints of spice and sandalwood, it’s not a very good performer and I wish it was heavier and more complex. The opening nurtures hope and gives the impression you are in for a epically, progressive scent but the disappointment comes around very quickly when Anubis becomes a linear and not as strong as I'd hpped. I love the ancient Egyptian thing and Anubis is especially cool if I was to weigh the heart of this fragrance it would be pretty lightweight in all honesty, vasnishing quickly after a big statement opening. Which is a shame, however I don't want to sound like some 'beastmode' performance obsessed idiot, because there's more to fragrance than that. I respect this perfume for what it is and it's definitely evocative of the name, if only at the beginning.
- em inglês
Swoon. No, really. This one makes me feel a bit odd. Puts me in a trance state. Hypnotic, narcotic, exotic. So extraordinarily good that it torpedoes way past excellent to something mystical. It makes the hairs stand up on the back of my neck. Yes it's smoky, woody, resinous, spicy, incensed, leathery - and all of those wonderful things to a beautiful, organic, richly complex degree. But it's also dry and dusty and mysterious and sacred-seeming. And there's a high, sweetish, herbal note in there too (?immortelle maybe?) which makes all the rest soar and swirl to the heavens. Surely sniffing an ancient papyrus, or the inside of some lady pharaoh's cosmetic jar, would be like this. Is it possible to describe perfumes as not just ancient, but archaic? Because I don't mean old-fashioned, or old, but rather the aura of millennia of perfumers' art, which drapes around this like a golden mantle. It smells of history (maybe even prehistory) and religion, in the best possible ways. God, (gods?) it's gorgeous. My only grief is that while it does last ages, my perception of it drifts in & out a bit and I want to keep smelling those divine wafts ALL THE TIME. Maybe for all eternity. All hail Anubis!
- em inglês
What can I even say. When I first got into frags, I bought 20 or 30 samples. This was the only one I loved, and it was head and shoulders above the rest. First FB I bought, and the only one for five or so years. Anubis showed me what this art can be. It's strong, uncompromising, complex - things that at the time I was not, but wanted to be. It showed me what that might look like. I held it very close. It wreathes you in smoke, it is a tool of the spirit, it speaks of dead things long past and your place in their lineage. It says you have everything you need, you always have had it, you who are half of this world and half of another. If I were to try and explain why I am "like this," I would typically cite a list of writings that have influenced me - I am a creature of words. But really, this fragrance is among the things that have made me who I am as much as any book might be. I think, to know me, you need to know this perfume. That is how much it has done for me. Below, e raw's review (please read it, I feel exactly the same. I am a scorpio rising fwiw.) reads: > This is what I wear to evoke the woman I want to become. I did this for years. It worked. What else can I say?
- em inglês
Not fond of resins personally, so didn't expect much. But picked up a sample of this regardless because it sounded interesting. And interesting it was! The resin is very vividly present, but it isn't overpowering. The suede and the florals settle it down into a curling smoke that wraps itself around you settled deep into the leather. After dry down the floral jasmine and lotus increase in intensity, making it a little softer and sweeter. This is stepping into an old, old vintage shop when it's rainy and cold outside and you can feel the dry air wrap around you, the temperature tick up, and your muscles sigh in relief. It's the perfect coat when it's a little cold out. It's getting an old book at a cafe and settling into a chair in a corner to read. So so cozy and so wonderful. edit: Anubis was one of the first scents i ever sampled and is now by FAR my favorite of all time. i could re-review all of this with much higher praise but i think coming back to say this is vocal enough. I am not a full bottle person but if i was disgustingly rich I'd probably buy a full bottle of this and flaunt it around like it's my hope diamond but less fucked up and substantially prettier.
- em inglês
Full-on spicy leather in a wildly medicinal way, initially bringing embalming fluid and dark-chambered healing practices to mind. But within a minute of first spraying this a mellow softness surges in to that medicinal chamber and it becomes beautiful. It's not harsh, it's a little bit tarry but soft, like suede. Within minutes the heart transforms into a soft, jasmine-infused smoky atmosphere. Frankincense and pink lotus create something I'd describe as shamanic. As time passes Anubis is redolent of mystical, fire-lit chambers with dancing shadows and a golden ambience. It's an olfactory chant to an ancient, spiritual history. This perfume has enormous depth. It vaguely reminded me of Ormonde Woman and Jubilation 25 but, side by side, they are nothing alike. Anubis is deeper and darker than either of those, although they are all exquisite. Others have mentioned gasoline and it could be interpreted in that way, although this is a floral-infused and deeply resinous gasoline more like bitumen than fuel. For me, it's shamanic in nature, fascinating and darkly beautiful in tone. Haiku of the day shamanic drumming a warm, fire-lit chamber Anubis awaits
- em inglês
So far (45 mins after I received my bottle and applied the perfume) it's a like, not a love. It's very strong, and the leather has a familiar feel to it. And it's leather, not suede. It has the slightly meaty, BBQ whiff of Spanish leather perfumes. The jasmine starts to push through the dense leather, resin and smoke (this is a smoke bomb for the ages), and if I squint I can feel the immortelle. I realize after 30 mins or so that the labdanum has drowned out the other notes. Then follows a dance battle between the labdanum and other notes, all jostling about to take the centre stage. I can't deny the quality and skill, but I'm withholding judgement until I've sat with it a bit longer. It definitely seems that the sillage is getting addictive, but I'm not so struck by the up close experience. Update after several full wears: This is an INCREDIBLE perfume. If you like this type of thing just get it. Enough said. Update: this is surely the best perfume ever (although perhaps I need to get acquainted with Salome, my flacon is on the way). Anubis is the most delicious, sexy, chewy leather, indescribable really, and utterly addictive, I'm obsessed.
- em inglês
This is so gorgeous! I know it is supposed to be inspired by ancient Egypt, but as soon as the liquid hits my skin, I get a flash of a peated Scotch, which quickly transforms into a mental image of a sunlit forest in fall, the forest floor thick with moss and last year's dead leaf and branch matter that exhales clouds of dust when trodden on. You are surrounded by wide dry tree trunks, and the sun filters down through leaves that are just turning brown. The air is thin and dry but not yet cold, in the way that early sun-drenched fall air can be. You look up to the vaulted forest ceiling - a cathedral of the natural world - and realize that you are now surrounded by a diaphanous, smoky incense wafting up to the sky, tinged with a warm-yet-cold spicy edge, cloves so freshly ground they are just verging on metallic. I don't really get any florals until the drydown, when they bring a hint of honeyed sweetness, as if you've found a small secret clearing in the forest, carpeted with soft springy clovers that have not yet succumbed to the change in season, upon which you lay down and allow mind and body to gently drift into forgetful oblivion.
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