Tobacco Rose

Wow! I was definitely not expecting this. On my skin and with my chemistry, I get a jammy rose a la Rose Jam (Lush), on a test strip it smells like a true rose/oud (there is 0 oud here) and on drydown (on me) it smells like a smoky blood red rose. Talk about a chameleon!! On my skin, the opening takes about two hours to settle down. While it’s there, I can smell one of the richest, reddest, most dark roses. It only allows the geranium to lend a slight element of air, with a slightly green/herbal/lemony piquancy. It reminds me of when Rose Jam was packed with the real stuff, and make no mistake, the rose here smells like a million bucks. The formula ain’t cheap, not by a long shot! Slowly, the sweetness becomes honey like. It’s beeswax, but on me it’s more like honey, raw honey with a humongous animalic side. It must be the ambergris combined, because it smells sweet/carnal/dark/smoky. Drydown takes ages to arrive and sillage is heavy all the way through. When it gets there, the rose subdues slightly, and I’m left with a smoky, salty (thank you true ambergris!) rose, that is kicking the last remnants of honey. I was expecting something else, and once again in true Papillon style, I get something completely different, but 100 times better. There’s an unparalleled richness, a herbal quality, it avoids cliches and becomes one of a kind; This is Rose with a capital R in all its dark crimson glory. Natural ambergris and honey/beeswax anchor it to the skin, just like oakmoss used to do it in the past. Do not expect a light or modern perfume. While not vintage smelling, Tobacco Rose is made in the old fashioned way; art, skill and quality. This is for those who love their roses as deep as they get, with lashings of animal essence and a dark green halo that oversees the development. And even if you don’t like roses, or the idea of them, try it. You can confirm, or change your mind, if you try a true rose in all its glory! Stunning! FBW!

A truly splendid and dandy tobacco-rose fragrance. On my skin, the tobacco leaf comes through strongly. When I smell this perfume, vivid scenes appear before my eyes: an opulent living room of the 1980s, a time of unrestrained vitality. Not the modern, Scandinavian-style interiors of today, which often lack artistry and feel monotonous, but a space adorned with carved wooden furniture of character. A mahogany desk stands with a Baccarat ashtray placed upon it, holding not a cigarette but a cigar. A madame enters, handing over a cigar cutter to her guest and, while at it, arranges a fresh bouquet of roses into a vase. It is unmistakably the atmosphere of the wealthy and indulgent gatherings of the 70s and 80s. This fragrance is not only suited to those who care deeply about furniture craftsmanship, but also to people who are devoted to vintage clothing. If someone has such a passion for vintage attire but wears only light, trendy perfumes, I personally find it disappointing. To me, anyone who loves vintage and classic aesthetics should have the presence to wear a fragrance like this. I am a woman, yet I adore the romance of this scent. P.S. — I’m a former smoker and familiar with the scents of cigarettes, cigars, and raw tobacco leaves. What truly puzzles me is that some reviews claim “there’s no tobacco note.” I wonder if those reviewers are aware of the wide olfactory range tobacco can have. Papillon’s Tobacco Rose perfectly captures the smell of raw tobacco leaves, beautifully rendered through other supporting notes. Similarly, Hiram Green’s Slowdive contains a well-crafted tobacco accord, even though some describe it as “only honey.” The tobacco is definitely there — skillfully expressed and harmoniously blended.

Probably my favourite rose fragrance...and the one I feel very comfortable wearing as a man because this one is a bit dark, earthy, and mysterious. This is not your jammy, sweet-tooth, or Middle Eastern rose. This rose has a velvety texture to it...and it has a richness or depth to it. It definitely feels more natural than anything and presents itself as of the earth. But what sets this apart is the very natural sweetness from the beeswax that is ever so slightly lurking in the background...it adds some freshness and a hint of animalism. I definitely get the oakmoss and I believe it's responsible for giving this rose a slightly earthy/soil feel to it. But then there's something else that I can't quite put my finger on - it's like an X-factor...not sure if it's the ambergris but whatever it is, is responsible for whatever freshness or lightness that exists here...it adds a sort of soapy feel to the scent...but it's very softly done. Wish I was better able to give this fragrance its due with a better review...but I think this is a masterpiece. I will be getting a bottle. This straddles the line perfectly between a wearable niche fragrance that gives hints of artistry/eccentricity. Lastly - the elephant in the room: no, I personally don't pick up a recognizable tobacco note but from what I read, the perfumer's intention was to re-create the smell of a particular rose garden she happened upon that gave off a dark, smoky or earthy aroma - and she decided that the kind of rose flower that gave off this smell would almost be in its own separate subcategory - the Tobacco Rose. Enjoy.

A lush, velvety, extremely sensual, crimson rose. I smell moist hay, sticky balsams, a civet-like animalic note, and honey-dipped rose petals. Tobacco Rose is a celebration of the night. It is a perfume I would wear if I were going to see a show at the Moulin Rouge. It makes me picture velvet curtains, elegant black dresses, and skin illuminated by candle light. Tobacco Rose stayed on my skin for 14 hours before I went to sleep for the night. A few hours in, the hay note faded, and the perfume headed down the rose confiture road. I happen to like jammy roses. What sets this one apart from the rest is the ever-present animalic note that gives it a certain edge. I adore the entire Papillon collection and wear every single one of them. I crave them. While Anubis, Salome, and Angelique are equally beautiful and sensual in their own ways, when I wear Tobacco Rose, I start having thoughts like, "I am a beautiful woman!" There is just something about this juice that makes me want to get my hair, makeup, and nails done and just bask in the glory of being a woman. It's so unlike me to talk like that! This velvety red scent will be perfect for the turning of the leaves and the crisp breezes. Dark rose perfection. Update: Six months later and was STILL craving this beauty. Had to make it mine.

Surprisingly, I am utterly smitten with this one. I say "surprisingly" because (a) I've had the sample for six months and I had dismissed it as meh; and (b) I am not a rose person (or at least I thought I wasn't). While this is unmistakably a rose, it is thankfully not a bright, cheerful rose. Nor is it a "dirty" rose, like Eau Suave (which I like) or a very dramatic one, like Portrait of a Lady (which I love, but don't know where I would wear). It is certainly not a tobacco rose, as others have said - no hint of tobacco. So what is it? It is a rose tempered by what I think is hay and beeswax and what apparently is moss, which gives it some earthiness and tones it down (a good thing, in my book). The moss plays in Tobacco Rose the role that patchouli plays in Lumiere Noire. It is warm, discreet and versatile and perfect for autumn. I have worn my sample at work, in the evening and on the weekend. On my perfume-eating, sillage-killing skin, longevity is amazing (more than eight hours), while sillage is discreet (although a colleague did compliment me, but we were working side by side). I have now placed it on my Want list. The only thing is, I would like to do a side-by-side testing with Lumiere Noire, as I need only of the two. Decisions, decisions.