King Cobra

Coil up, friends 🐍 I was graciously provided with an advanced preview of King Cobra months ago, so I’ve had time to develop my thoughts. I've got quite a bit to say, as King Cobra is my favorite fragrance in years and I think it’s going to be an unprecedented hit for the Zoologist house. These reptiles have long been one of my favorite animals, and so it’s only fitting that I’d be (snake) charmed by this. This scent has fangs. It hisses, coils, and then leaps out of the bottle to bite with enough deadly force to leave you paralyzed in its rapture. King Cobra is an unparalleled masterpiece and a kingly scent for sure, but it’s so potent that I’m not certain King Cobra is the most appropriate name for it. Perhaps spitting cobra would’ve been more apt, as this scent sprays out of the bottle with enough of a venomous punch to potentially blind its victi...errr, I mean, wearer. King Cobra is the most artistically and stunningly creative Zoologist release since Squid. It should certainly satisfy long-term fans who have griped that Zoologist has become too “mainstream” in recent years. I can particularly detect the notes of petitgrain, fig leaf, black tea, leather, soil, plenty of incense and, even though it isn’t a listed note, I swear there’s a hint of eucalyptus in there as well. This fragrance smells like you packed all of those ingredients into a gigantic bong with plenty of marijuana, lit it up, and took a humongous toke. Here's where King Cobra’s poison begins to take effect: the ganja accord is certainly there. Just like how snakes frighten people, that pot scent will scare some people off and it isn’t for everyone: it’s polarizing as all hell. But I, personally, enjoy the scent of weed...so long as it isn’t too overpowering. And Zoologist founder Victor Wong and perfumer Prin Lomros have deftly weaved in the ganja accord, with aplomb and bravura, to make it a main player but not the only highlight. Kudos to all – this is a mazel tov and a Molotov cocktail of a fragrance. There’s something so intoxicating about this scent although it’s challenging to accurately describe, and it can slither and shift into different profiles depending on the mood. I read somewhere that King Cobra smells like the perfume of Aladdin’s villain, Jafar. I love that, but let me offer an alternative: this is the scent of Neve Campbell and Denise Richards battling it out in the swamp amongst the humidity-soaked palm trees of 1998’s Wild Things. Or it’s the scent of a vampiric Grace Jones in 1986’s Vamp, while she performs a strip dance and writhes on top of a Keith Haring statue in a grungy and downtrodden club: dangerous, sultry, formidable, intoxicating, and slightly forbidden. Or, it’s the scent of Indiana Jones in the snake pit: a jungle adventure from a lost time and world. Others have said it smells like snakeskin or hot poisonous sand. I’ll agree that there is a reptilian scent to this that conjures a snake shedding a leathery green skin, but I sadly can’t detect those desert sands, despite how much I would love to (side note: Zoologist scents are often based on an animals’ habitat, and king cobras typically reside in forests, bamboo thickets, mangrove swamps and rivers, rather than the actual desert like, say, a spitting cobra would – trust me, I Googled). To me, though, King Cobra most embodies the aesthetic of urban decay with aromatic indulgences. It smells like a grungy 1990s head shop was shutdown and recently reopened as an upscale spa. It reminds me of what the most witchy parts of New Orleans smell like, or how 90s-era Thompson Street in NYC’s Greenwich Village must’ve smelled. Now, I wasn’t in NYC to experience that period, but there’s a word for nostalgia for a time or place you haven’t known: anemoia. And King Cobra smacks of anemoia. Back on that Thompson Street, there’s a voodoo or fortune teller downstairs. That head shop on the corner, which resembles more of a druggy apothecary, has downtrodden brick walls inside and incense burning in the corner. Next door, the rock n’ roll record store has a tattered poster of a cobra – its hood flared, fangs bared and tongue flicking. King Cobra is unisex and can charm people year-round. But it requires confidence, vamp, and that level of charm to pull off. With potency of up to 12 hours, when the high from this finally wears off, King Cobra is addictive enough to leave you scrambling for the anti-venom. In five words or less: A kingly sss-scent with BITE.

The time has come for me to attempt a review. I say "attempt" because there's no way I can even hope to do better than previous reviewer Scratch & Sniff below. Go read that! As for me, when I saw this announced, I literally gasped. I'm a reptile guy. From geckos to dragons. The cobra was always a bit of a totem animal to me (not to mention a Hindu friend's mother once told me, "you carry yourself with the confidence of raja"). So, as the emblematic predator of the reptile world, did King Cobra succeed? Yes! Yes, it did. I expected this to have bite and it does. At first spray, you get greeted by a pungent, camphorous, minty cannabis-forward concoction. This is the lethal strike. The cobra's bite. It hisses and wraps itself around you. There's anticipation but also thrill. The smoke thickens as an earthiness comes in as the cobra's venom takes its toll and gets settled in you, you can smell its leathery coils squeezing and constricting around you. That's where things took an unexpected turn for me. I expected it to get more and more intense, but no. As it went on, I got comfy. The cobra wasn't feeding on me, it was becoming a part of me. As the beautiful, comforting warmth of balsamic incense brought the experience to its end, I had become one with it. I was King Cobra. And it was glorious. I honestly found it relatively tame for Zoologist, but then I've gotten used to earthy, cannabis heavy perfumes lately. I found out I love that camphorous, spicy mentholated vibe cannabis gives to perfumes. So to me, it was comfy and I'm ecstatic because I would have been mortified if I didn't like it. Again, Prin's work here is stellar, the blend is ridiculously smooth and the notes morph around effortlessly. It lasts quite a while as well, a good 8+ hours on me and projects surprisingly strong at first, so do be careful in tight spaces. I'd say this is more early Spring and Fall or mild Winter days, but honestly you could get away with it on Summer days when it's not too hot, thanks to its minty greenness. Another stunner and I hope this is a big hit for the brand.

Sampling King Cobra, the latest release from Zoologist Perfumes, a fresh, green, but somewhat spicy and dark blend with animalic and earthy elements, a very curious mix with accords of camphor and cannabis standing out quite a bit, but overall, a hearty center of petitgrain, black tea, moss, and resins. Its note listing is so interesting that it merits review in its entirety, for sure, and I really detect a very well-blended intersection of notes and genres, the main standouts being the slightly-funky-yet-mostly-classy deployment of cannabis, which is definitely less substantial than in, say, Xerjoff Golden Dallah, or perhaps even RDZ Parfums Philadelphia, but still noticeable in (in my opinion) a positive way. This is among my favorite of the recent releases from the house, and I like it as a companion to the fresher, more eucalyptus-preoccupied (fittingly) Koala, one of my all-time favorites from the house. King Cobra is expectedly a little more daring, more dangerous, higher-performing, with perhaps a little less versatility but overall a bit better for cooler weather, and more so to stand out. I love it as an addition to this already diverse, deep, interesting catalogue, and I expect it will sell very well as a great balance between crowd-pleasing agreeability and experimental edginess. Like much of the line, King Cobra is extrait de parfum concentration and priced at $175 for 60ml, sold via the Canadian-based house website as well as a number of US boutiques, including Perfumology. Only the house website sells the travel size, unfortunately. 8 out of 10

The marketing story for King Cobra, and many reviews, have leaned toward the predatorial/venomous/threatening aspects of the namesake. But I interpret this one quite differently. It's true that the fragrance opens with a daring and daunting flash of dusty green, what people have called the "bite," before it progressively reveals cumin and amber alongside Prin's signature realistic soil note. The amber in this stage, though, is deceptively mild, almost sweet—I think there's also musk here—and when it combines with the tea note and cumin, what I smell is a wonderfully cozy and subtle chai accord. Totally belying the nearly-caustic green notes in the opening, there's intimacy and calm right under the grass. But it always stays half-hidden, disappearing and reappearing amidst the cool resins and camphor. On Wikipedia, I learned that king cobras, though they seem "fearsome," are not typically aggressive toward humans: they much prefer to peacefully slink off to a hiding place when encountered, not to hunt you like a movie monster. Victor and Prin have brilliantly evoked this aspect of the animal in the development of this fragrance. King Cobra is intimidating and wild, certainly not playful, but not actually to be feared. Its heart is peaceful, companionable, and lovely. These contrasting facets in King Cobra, the second-to-none quality of each accord, and the way the composition expresses *an idea* of the animal, elevate this as one of the most fulfilling Zoologist releases IMO. (But I also just love grass, moss, and cumin, so draw your own conclusions :P )

Let me start with a quick stint on the soapbox. One comment often made about Zoologist perfumes is ‘I can’t imagine where I would wear it.’ The only situations in which I can imagine a perfume being inappropriate have nothing to do with the character of the perfume, but everything with it being a perfume in the first place: i.e. perceptual input that cannot be avoided by others. Why is it better to wear a heavy amber at an evening formal attire party than in the morning at the gym - because people expect it? Would anyone annoyed by the scent at the gym not be annoyed by it at the party? Anyways. Let’s just say that I am an unsophisticated person who wears perfume for themselves, whenever I feel like it, unless I will be in a situation where scent will disturb others. And I like this perfume a lot, and I have been wearing it a lot. The opening is intense and never ceases to surprise me - a blast of green that flickers between bitter and sweet, cool and warm. Then on me the scent recedes into a delicate floral. When I wonder if I should reapply, 3-4 hours in, it blooms into this lovely sweet, lemony-green, powdery scent. I am familiar with how all the listed notes are supposed to smell in their individual form, and I find this perfume very well blended, even if it is not at all linear. Don’t be put off by the inclusion of the ‘ganja accord’ - there is nothing dank or potty about it.