Bengale Rouge

I'm testing this today, courtesy of a sample sent to me by trabuquera (thank you, my friend). Liz Moores was inspired to create Bengale Rouge by one of her cats; I'd best disclose that - if anything could predispose me to loving a perfume - it being inspired by cats is right at the top of my list. My first instinct is that the notes listed above are incomplete - I am sure I can smell some spices (cinnamon?); Bengale Rouge is also dry and slightly powdery. I've checked the Papillon website and Bengale Rouge is not listed yet (I think the official release is August 2019), so I went to Basenotes; "Prince Barry", like trabuquera, was also sent an advance sample by Liz Moores and has uploaded a pic of the handwritten card she included, which lists the notes as follows: Turkish rose Orris Sandalwood Honey Oakmoss Tonka Sweet myrrh Benzoin Labdanum Vanilla I am surprised to see that there are no spices included, so there must be some interaction between the notes which are producing this impression. Rose can be a difficult note for me, as can honey, which can turn slightly urinous on my skin - but BR is beautifully blended. It's rich, warm and dry, and smells sort of "fuzzy" - in my opinion, this is reminiscent of 80s classic oriental perfumes, like Opium, but without the huge bombastic sillage. Bengale Rouge is polite and unlikely to offend anyone - but those smelling it will definitely want to come closer - it's seductive. I sprayed BR four times last night to the back of my right hand, at about 10pm and I can still smell it now, over 14 hours later. Initially the projection was moderate - unsurprisingly, it's now a skin scent (but please bear in mind that I've washed my hands more times than I can count since I first sprayed). I have no idea why someone has assessed the longevity as poor - it clearly isn't, as I have dry, perfume-gobbling skin. On cloth, this will undoubtedly last days. If pushed to liken it to something, this "feels" like a combination of (current formulation) Musc Ravageur and L'Air du Desert Marocain, but more "wearable", so would suggest that lovers of those will be equally enamoured by Bengale Rouge. It really is bloody gorgeous and it's made it to the top of my birthday wishlist. 19 November 2019: ETA I received a bottle for my birthday (18 November). It's even better now (in a chilly autumn/early winter) in the UK than it was when I tested in June and I've worn it now for over 48 hours. In my opinion, this is NOT an Oriental Vanilla fragrance, as listed on Fragrantica, but a true "Oriental" fragrance. I stand by my comparison to Musc Ravageur, LADDM and Opium, but can also now see how it links to Shalimar (which I couldn't when I tested earlier, in June). This is a bloody masterpiece.

There are some perfumes that smell like someone put some materials together and they bottle it and call it finished. It smells just fine, but it’s hardly anything masterful. I call them “participation prize” perfumes. Then there are others where there is real artistry, you can tell a lot of thought went into it, and a lot of time, effort and creativity. The “trophy winners”. Then there is Bengale Rouge. The blood, sweat & tears. The fine tooth comb. The hundreds of obsessive tweaks. The “can’t sleep because they have to get it just right” perfumes. And right when it’s finally perfect, they tweak again. Whether or not this happened with Bengale Rouge, I have no idea, but that is exactly what it smells like. Bengale Rouge is more than just a transfer of glorious perfumes of the past from skin to fur, it is a collective history of the greatest perfumes of the 1920s, layered with classic masculines of the 60s, then drenched with a sheer coating of the opulence of the 80s, then refined into a purr. As others have mentioned, I do smell the Shalimar...but to my nose, it’s more vintage Emeraude being reflected. Those two fragrances always get compared but to my nose there is no other fragrance as clearly reflected in the background as vintage Emeraude extrait. The resinous powdery vanilla/tonka opoponax immediately brings to mind several of my beloved vintage Coty perfumes, particularly Emeraude and Styx. There is Guerlain in there also, a tiny reminder of Jicky, and obviously Shalimar. But for me, it’s all about the Coty. There is also a spicy masculinity of Old Spice and ambery slinkiness of Opium. But you have to imagine all of these scents on skin, worn for hours, then transferred through many neck nuzzles to a warm Bengal cat under cashmere blankets. If you can imagine that, then you have a good idea of what Bengale Rouge smells like. Every perfume reflected in Bengale Rouge is a classic masterpiece. There are no consolation prizes to be found. But there aren’t many modern perfumes that can be be compared to the creations of François Coty and Jacques Guerlain no matter how good they are. This one is an exception. Bengale Rouge is a masterpiece.

Based upon the few Papillon Artisan fragrances that I've tried so far, it's clear that Liz Moore takes inspiration from vintage perfumery. In the case of Bengale Rouge, this fragrance can easily fit into the category of oriental fragrances that dominated the 1970s/80s, such as Opium by Yves Saint Laurent and Shalimar by Guerlain. If I were to compare it to a more modern fragrance, it does have similar vibes to Musc Ravageur (though I prefer this fragrance much more). Bengale Rouge is truly a pleasure to wear. Admittedly, I did not enjoy the fragrance when I first sampled it. It came across as extremely sweet, to the point where I found it difficult to discern any of the notes mentioned in the fragrance. However, I personally found that this fragrance (amongst some others from this brand, such as Salome) require a few attempts to warm up to and understand, as these fragrances have very complex compositions. However, in a nutshell, Bengale Rouge opens up with a dose of sweet, thick honey alongside a "biscuit-y" texture (which I assuming comes from the sweet myrrh and/or tonka bean). Albeit not listed in the notes, I sense some citruses, which I have yet to discern. These citric notes don't last too long and after a few minutes, the heavy, "biscuit-y" texture remains with some vanillic and slightly powdery undertones. After sampling the fragrance for quite a while, the sweetness no longer comes across as cloying to me and I thoroughly enjoy this fragrance and have now purchased a full bottle. Despite its complexity, the fragrance is quite easy to wear and can be classified as non-offensive. It has gotten me some compliments and I have been told that I smell like "cinnamon" and have also been called a "walking human AirWick"! Regardless of its nod to the vintage orientals, I believe this fragrance is definitely unisex and I would love to see more men pull this off. I think this fragrance would also be best suited for the colder climates, such as autumn and winter, though I have yet to try it in the summer or spring months. The fragrance projects nicely and, on my skin, becomes more intimate in its sillage around the 4-5 hour mark. :)

I read in the first reviews of Bengale Rouge that it was like a smoother Shalimar but on first spray, I was surprised as there is no citrus and none of the dry herbes de Provence or dark leather that I associate with Shalimar, although later in its life it does, I agree, smell like a rich Shalimar. Instead I was greeted with a much warmer, fuller, almost boozy stewed fruit note that I associate more with Chanel's Egoiste. Indeed, their shared focus on sandalwood and rose bring the two scents momentarily into the same orbit before moving away again. After that purring, rich opening, I appreciated the prominent tonka which smells briefly like toasted almonds and gives off that very slightly mentholated note that I associate with toasted tonka (in Fourreau Noir, for example) and which I love, like a dash of arsenic tucked away in a stewed pudding, reminding me of the Roald Dahl story where a house guest is left musing on the almond taste in his mouth after tea served by a murderous host. - A bit of danger in the softness. Later I see the similarity to Shalimar, as the incredible house musk notes (also present in Tobacco Rose, Anubis and Salome, to greater or lesser degree) replicate the animalic notes of Shalimar's leather, and the resins and sandalwood its vanilla. This is quite a sweet scent, in a resinous and stewed way, and the accent is on the wood, musk and warmth rather than the florals. The inspiration of a cat is very apt - this is both very cosy as well as feline. It is not as come-hither as Salome, and wears closer to skin. However, I had an immediate compliment from my husband (totally unsolicited) who said that I smelt delicious - spicy and warm. Papillon perfumes are some of the best available - beautifully blended, smell as though they come from a world where IFRA restrictions never happened, and are distinctive while being eminently wearable every day (except maybe Salome which is for nighttime only!) Bengale Rouge is an incredible scent and will be fantastic in the autumn and winter, when I predict it will cause a bit of a sensation on the perfume circuit. My advice is to get in quickly.

Thick, sweet myrrh. Vintage Shalimar slivers, placed upon an airy lemon meringue. Opulence like it used to be and smell. Bengale Rouge is a lovechild of the past with a nod to the future, and is giving some serious competition to my beloved Salome! The star is the myrrh. Thick, chewy, molten, glazed myrrh, like you rarely smell. Not smoky, incense like, but rather comforting and evocative of La Belle Époque. Airy but rich, served upon a silver platter with the finest honeyed rose petals, a dark brooding bergamot and a helping of lemon meringue that inevitably recalls vintage Shalimar parfum circa 1940. There’s also a silver ray of freshness that recalls the lavender used in Jicky, although I could be just imagining it. The vanilla takes on a smokier approach, rum like but never cloying or sickly sweet. There’s not a trace of gourmandise, just the tease of it, but never materializing. And like every perfume that smells like real perfume, an innate warmth that radiates and pulsates from the skin. Civet traces along Liz’s proprietary musk blend, a slight lick of saltiness (real ambergris perhaps) and a gentle creaminess from sandalwood, that recalls the buttery and salty smell of genuine and long gone Indian Mysore. The enveloping sensation of oakmoss of yore picks through, but never steals the show, firstly because of the limited amounts allowed today, and secondly because this is not its show. If Salome was brooding red blooded seduction, then Bengale Rouge is her (his) younger self; naïve, sensual, smart. Playful and welcoming, just like the inspiration for the perfume: the fuzziness and warmth of a Bengal cat. Liz has given us a wonderful creation, one I was prepared to like but ended up loving. Wonderfully tenacious but never intrusive; instead it shimmers on skin for hours, gently scenting you and those near you. I couldn’t be more excited for what comes next, although my next stop will be the mesmerizing and potently green galbanum queen that is Dryad!