Sacred Scarab

A gorgeous, experimental, backwards-evolving, chypre with a smooth addicting, bitter, fruity opening. I very much love this Zoologist release. Goes on bitter and earthy then soon blossoms into a vintage medley of dried fruits and musky, grassy, piney resins and spent ancient florals. The first day of testing Sacred Scarab I was actually astounded by what I was smelling."I smell beetles" was what I remember thinking and was instantly impressed by the craftsmanship in this fragrance. I lived in Niger, in Africa where I saw many dung beetles with their cute tiny little balls of cow, donkey or camel manure and I use to observe them as they rolled their prize away on the sand. But if you've ever visited Virginia in the US in the Summer you will have probably seen the "Japanese beetle" in the prime of their mating season. They are an invasive species of scarab beetle that escaped from an insect nursery in Virginia in the 1970s. When visiting the Arlington Cemetery I received a very natural and sweet smell in the air from the magnolia trees that Sacred Scarab reminded me of. I happened upon a very fragrant magnolia tree and inside a few fully bloomed magnolias were these orgies of little Japanese beetles mating. The dense smell of their musky pheromones accompanied by the fruity and lemony sweetness of the magnolia blossom conjured up the general vibe of how Sacred Scarab smells. This is natural, impressionist, perfumery at probably its best. I later found out that Sultan Pasha made it a point to include an accord of plum using a peach lactone (gamma-decalactone) that mimics the smell of scarab beetle pheromones in the Sacred Scarab composition. So I was completely hysterical with shock, that I was able to experience that smell without any knowledge of it. Absolutely insane...! In a time where I’ve been underwhelmed by perfume after perfume searching for something that doesn’t smell cheap or too redundant I have finally stumbled upon something special in Sacred Scarab. I must admit it, Sacred Scarab underwhelmed with first wearing which I tested at home at night. It seemed to have been missing “something”. But I realized that conceptually it missing this, “something” was what set it apart from other Chypres and also made it successful at portraying the Scarab beetle's simple life while equally evoking the atmosphere of Ancient Egypt. I soon realized what seemed to be what was missing, this great chypre is missing a whole top layer lacking in the typical Chypre dimension of crisp, zingy, citric, sourness that then introduces us to these well orchestrated base notes but on the other hand it is still extremely well-blended and dimensional not to mention original. If anything Sacred Scarab's strangeness is that it is a base-heavy chypre and doesn’t immediately bless the wearer with an exaggeratively soured, bright and/or spicy introduction that is typical of most chypres... But damn what a base It Is...! Bound to the lowest levels of the earth, equipped with the ability to fly, the scarab beetle has the ability like most insects to travel the world thoroughly and this perfume manages to possess an effervescent fresh atmosphere representative of outdoor air, and a very, humid, balmy, musky, dry and fruity greenness representative of the Earth. We are given the beetles sense of smell the world is too large to smell altogether but what we do smell we can smell in vivid detail. Sacred scarab is a strange and somewhat groundbreaking chypre that develops backwards on my skin starting with its base notes and then ending with its top notes. A warm embrace of a bitter, smokey and earthy foundation of myrrh, frankincense and syrupy rich benzoin advance you to a sharp, stemmy, bitter and green galbanum. From here the Kyphi accord soon takes shape as the beetle musk accord from the plums, the dried fruit, and sweet, heady, and watery, recreated lotus nectar impart a slightly mildewy and spent fruitiness that is almost oud-like, or boozy to those not into oud. This smell can remind one of an old diwaniya. A part of the home that acts as a reception or social meeting area for Middle Eastern men, where oud chips or bukhoor are customarily burnt and dried fruits and roasted nuts are served. Years of natural essences have been burnt and the smell has saturated the environment of the leathery, woody and well-used room. Once the Kyphi phase ends this perfume becomes fresh and bright where the aldehydes finally bubble up to the surface, and a tropical lotus remains to impart a spent, heady sweetness with a soapy, lemon and musky, rich civet accord. Sacred Scarab is both domestic and wild in equal measures but somehow never feels gimmicky in its representation. A perfume that is a different journey with every wearing. Even though I think Egypt has been overdone as a concept in perfumery and a surface level approach to Africa, I excuse Zoologist because: Hyrax and I do excuse Sacred Scarab since much risk, research and concern seems to have been taken on perfecting this composition. Sultan Pasha has undoubtedly created an artifact for Zoologist that can sit on equal ground as the best from the house. Unisex, with great lasting power on me and hefty sillage that gets larger overtime. I just hope Sultan Pasha can distance his ego from this creation and continue to take as much care in creating more great perfumes as he did here. Viciously artistic, challenging, musky, uncompromising and original like Zoologist does best. Sample it! I will wait for the attar to release before making a purchase! 🪲🐞🌸 10/10

FIRST HOUR: Another Zoologist fragrance I was excited to try, while suspecting based on the scent profile that it would not be for me, and indeed it is not. This is an intense fragrance, and the aldehydes, florals and dense composition all code it as squarely "feminine" to me, or, as another reviewer has said and others have upvoted, a "masculine" take on Chanel No. 5. I find it overpowering because the specific notes being accented are not the ones I typically seek out, but for a woman who appreciates a scent that's classic, bold, and somewhat Middle Eastern, this would be beautiful. I also suspect that this would be an excellent scent in hotter climates. SECOND HOUR: As expected, the intense floral and aldehyde wave is just the first phase in its evolution. The wine/plum/jasmine middle notes as they begin to lead are more sumptuous, and unisex. A Tunisian former boyfriend of mine could have easily pulled this one off. Hmmm, I could see this one being a dark horse favorite for me over time, even though its style is not my typical one today. THIRD HOUR: As the animalic, myrrhy base notes start to bloom, this is beginning to become more masculine, pleasing and delicious to me. At this stage, it would not be overwhelming in a social setting, though is still quite lush. It is still intense enough, and in a specific way, to make my nostrils feel slightly fiery, "irritated" in the way that pepper and other perfectly safe things can irritate. But I would be mindful of my environment before picking this as my fragrance of the day. Not for date night, a plane, or the opera. Also not one I would pick for a personal journey while I work on the computer. This is an elegant and bold fashion statement that sets someone apart. "Regal" as others have said. Good for a gala or outdoor cocktail party. FOURTH HOUR: Settling into something quite wonderful, heavenly. FIFTH HOUR: Sweet and pleasing yet spicy. Strong, but no longer intense. Would be appropriate anywhere. Keeps right on going. SEVENTH HOUR: Still incense-y and spicy. Very present. This perfume has officially blown my mind and reframed how I think about chypres, and fragrance in general. -- This is an A++ in craftsmanship and very memorable. I suspect based on the one review here on Fragrantica that the attar version is even-better, since without the alcohol to project the scent in the same way, it would be a bit less assertive, a bit more involving, which would make it hard to resist. This has put Sultan Pasha on my radar in a big way. A high point for Zoologist. --- p.s. So far of the Zoologist fragrances I've tried... NICE but not for me: Rabbit, Elephant, Cow (with Cow as the favorite in this class). I think these are all good fragrances but the scent profiles are very safe, playful, and in two cases a bit Beatrix Potter. I can appreciate the wit, craft, and marketability, but wouldn't choose these scents for date night. FOR ME but safe: Tiger, King Cobra, Bat, Beaver Maple, Northern Cardinal (with Northern Cardinal being one I'd buy). Other than Northern Cardinal, everything in this class smells perfectly nice, and I wouldn't give away my samples lightly. But they are safe and not ones I'd jump to buy a full bottle of. Northern Cardinal though is a winter, must-have scent. A bewitching and pleasing journey. FOR ME, amazing, and edgy: Portuguese Man O' War, T Rex (love), Squid (love but quite daring). I would be exceptionally sad if T Rex or Squid is ever discontinued. The former is very me, and the latter is freaky and addictive. If anyone bought me one of these, I would be ecstatic. And Portuguese Man O' War is just slightly less-weird, but still excellent. EXCEPTIONAL but not for me: Snowy Owl (weird/wonderful), Civet (classic), Sacred Scarab (dark horse). These are far outside my go-to scent profiles but I can appreciate the craft. I read each of these as feminine and the latter two as classic and educational if one is interested in the history of perfume. These are all too high-personality to gift easily to someone, but they are excellent fragrances. [UPDATE: Hour by hour, Sacred Scarab has brainwashed me and now it's officially a favorite.] TOO CHALLENGING, TOO NOT-ME: Moth. (I accede that Moth is objectively good. Eager to meet someone one day for whom this is their signature scent.)

I have noticed that some people think anything with aldehydes smells alike. I think it’s just the nature of aldehydes and how they can play tricks on your nose in the opening due to the dominance. Because otherwise, I am completely baffled by the comparisons to Chanel No 5. I’m a Chanel No 5 lover and have it hoarded in different strengths and from different decades and nothing about this perfume other than the aldehydes reminds me of it in any way. I wear No 5 regularly and have for many years, and not once have I been reminded of Chanel No 5 while wearing Sacred Scarab. I was reminded of Paloma Picasso a bit during the opening and initial phase but there is so much more going on that the PP reminder is just one part of it. Sacred Scarab is a combination of brightness, joy and solemness, there is a 70s or 80s glamorous vibe to it initially, very energetic and exciting. This is what I would call the “birth” period representing youth. It’s golden and floral with a beautiful citrus and there is a green aspect coming from the galbanum and oakmoss. As it dries down, the darker aspects come into play, particularly the red wine note that is almost like a plummy merlot sweetened with raisins. But the golden feel is still there. Further in the drydown is where the sacredness comes in. The brightness leaves and the darker aspects take over, more animalic and resinous and incense becomes more prominent, and there is an earthiness with an almost ashy gray feel to it. At no point does it feel “churchy” or anything like that but more like a tomb. There is an unmistakable somber feel and I’m surprised I am not seeing this mentioned. It seems so many people are missing what this perfume is actually about. It’s about birth, life and death. It feels unmistakable to me so I asked Sultan if that was his intention and he confirmed that it was. I knew it couldn’t be my imagination. So this perfume does take a big turn mid-point...and it’s supposed to. In my opinion, Sacred Scarab is exactly what Zoologist is all about. Artistic perfumes that tell a story, and this one is hardly “mainstream”. I think some feel that an unwearable perfume without structure that smells of goat hair is “artistic” when really that’s just what people do when they don’t know how to make structured, multi-layered, classic French perfume with a polished feel. They’ve become used to the disjointed and unpolished and they mistake quality materials thrown together with quality perfume. So then a structured perfume seems “mainstream”. This is hardly mall perfume lol. For many it will even be challenging. But for me, it’s a work of art put together by a true artist, not just a perfume maker. But that’s just *my* opinion of course. We all smell fragrance differently. But *for me* this perfume is exceptional in a sea of far too many forgettables. It stands out. It’s a true piece of artistry. Okay, I’ll shut up now.

I have always wanted to explore the Egyptian pyramids. Call it a bucket list item I’ll likely never get to. The mythic romanticism of Egyptian burial rights is a story all to its own, unlike anything else in human history, that I find truly fascinating and alluring - and parts of it in a horrific way. Sometimes when a person died, their spouse and/or their servants would take their own lives in order to stay with their beloved into the afterlife. They were sent on their way with food, usually bread, wine, amber colored gold, gems, and other finery to make sure they entered the afterlife with wealth providing prosperity. I always found this last part kind of funny with any belief system that employed it: material things that supposedly matter in this life also matter in a completely different life to follow? It doesn’t seem like the afterlife is much of an improvement, does it. Anyhow.... Rolling back the entrance to the mummy’s tomb brings an exchange of today’s air with that which has been untouched in the tomb for centuries as a gentle whoosh of softly powdery aldehydic lemons and a cloud of civet. Light glints yellow off of the gold offerings in the tomb, and the smell of decay is present. The fecal/civet/decay note is quite powerful and realistic to the vintage stuff that used to be used in abundance in perfumes, but it stays on the pleasant side of the line, with both it and the powdery lemon staying lightweight and wafting like a breeze. The heart brings one of the deepest, darkest, bitterest fruit accords I’ve smelled in quite a while. As a wine accord, it is mostly believable but there is no alcohol-like heat or barrel notes coming off of it, and to my nose it strikes as more of a slowly stewed black and blue fruit type accord subtracting sugary sweetness as well. No alcohol aroma, no fermentation aroma, and no sugary aroma either; odd and very intriguing in a mysterious sort of way. The dry down to the base is an animalic amber. More of the black and blue fruit from the heart remains while a musky animalic base of styrax, mosses, incense, woods, and labdanum blooms. It’s a classic amber that is leathery animalics forward, but beautifully balanced between the incense, balsams, and labdanum, very rich but lightweight, smooth, and diffusive. It’s an excellent dry down. I am completely sold on Sacred Scarab. It’s delivered the creative brief in a very convincing way, it’s been interesting from the start to the finish, while also giving us a very well done classic animalic amber that feels sufficiently modern. This sits easily towards the top-end of the list of my favorites from Zoologist.

Dadaism, in practice, is what happens when you take a meaningful object, rip it out of context, and dare people to still find “the point”. Sacred Scarab does exactly that with ritual: it smells like classic French perfumery fumes drifting through an ancient ceremony, but does not tell a linear story. Sultan Pasha frames the composition around Kyphi (an atavistic Egyptian incense built on sweetened frankincense, myrrh, wine, plum, and resins...) not to explain the ritual, but to suspend it in mid-air. The opening is a deliberate clash: citrusy aldehydes against a slight civet edge. It’s bright/clean for about five seconds, then the “museum display” glass cracks and you’re suddenly smelling something animal-adjacent. In the heart, Sacred Scarab pivots into a wine accord + plum, while a (not so floral, but rather “aquatic cherry-like”) blue lotus floats above it like a symbol you’re supposed to understand. The essence here is “half sacred” and “half strange”. After the 4-hour mark, the base emerges by fulfilling the Dada collage. It is a resinous amber accord supported by raisins, a green bite (galbanum and juniper), and mild smokiness. The performance is OK. Longevity-wise, it’s 6 to 8 hours with a contained projection. It will be enough to be noticed by others in close proximity for the first couple of hours at least. In my opinion, Sacred Scarab is one of the most intriguing and complex releases in Zoologist’s line-up. It also offers a peculiar take on the overplayed chypre-revival obsession. It feels like what Papillon could have been aiming for with the (overhyped?) Anubis. Usually, I find Zoologist releases a bit too crowd-pleasing and/or synthetically leaning, especially once the rather ambitious RRP is factored in. This one is different. Sacred Scarab isn’t weird for the sake of it: it’s meaning with the labels removed. Some fans of the Canadian house may be taken off guard, though. With aldehydes and civet in play, sampling is key: your appreciation may vary, and your symbolism certainly will.

This one took me by surprise! I was expecting a massive punch of aldehydes, something akin to Maison Margiela’s Lazy Sunday Morning or Xerjoff’s Pikovaya Dama. Instead, I was met with a radiant burst of lotus flower - an aquatic floral scent that smells bright yellow to my nose. The aldehydes here provide an effervescent soapiness, and when combined with those golden florals and a dash of sparkling lemon, they create an image of a rising sun. Given the scarab beetle’s association with the Egyptian god Khepri - he who rolls the sun across the sky - this opening felt truly divine. But the luminescence doesn’t last forever. As the sun begins to set, darker, smokier, and muskier notes emerge. It’s as if the sun-worshippers have stepped into the dusty tombs of their ancestors, lighting ceremonial incense in the shadows and pouring libations to their gods. The wine itself isn’t a dominant note, but the way the lotus and musty smoke intertwine evokes a scene where golden chalices brim with offerings, reflecting the last shimmering light that filters through the sandy cracks of the tomb walls. As the fragrance settles, we’re left with musky lotus, light incense, and an airy, sandy dust. I’m not familiar with the raw scent of civet, but nothing here smells particularly animalic to me, and I’m usually quite sensitive to those foul, fecal tones. Only when the florals have completely faded does a faint sweetness emerge. The benzoin is not quite rich and full-bodied, but still delivers a subtle, resinous vanillic warmth, while the myrrh leans dry and citrusy. It’s a clever continuation from the fizzy lemon of the sunrise opening to the more subdued, smoky citrus of the sunset drydown. Toward the very end of the fragrance, I pick up nuances reminiscent of L'Artisan's Dzongkha and Timbuktu, as well as Xerjoff's Zefiro. All share a subtly sweet incense quality that lingers deep in the base.

For some reason I don't usually dig Zoologists, I've tried a fair few and while I think many are pretty, they often feel a little bit gimmicky to my nose, with novel notes and structures that are interesting as an intellectual exercise but perhaps lack a little in raw beauty and wearability. Not so here! I don't know why I waited so long to try this given I know I love Sultan Pasha, but wow he's knocked me out of the park with this next-level floriental. Upon spraying I'm immediately engulfed in a gargantuan, dark smoky floral as though a dominatrix has crept up behind me and smothered me with a silk-lined cushion. The first time I tried it I mistook it for an indolic jasmine but alas, I'm smelling it again now and am getting more orange blossom. It's a total abstraction to my nose (though I'm not familiar with the scent of lotus and not enough of a swimmer to become so), with a heady, rumbling plum and ethereal quality from the aldehydes. Though I can appreciate the presence of most of the notes, it's so well blended it forms a single scent that shifts and wanes - sometimes smelling like flowers, at other times fruit, and with a very very faint foecal undertone that makes it smell extremely illicit. Spices and resins decorate the drydown but this animalic, dark fruity floral core is nigh indestructible and lasted all day on my skin. It's hard to express how impressed I am by this ultra complex scent... It does smell vaguely challenging and yet somehow quintessentially modern and fundamentally "relevant". I hypothesise that it will have mass appeal despite not being remotely on-trend, but I think this is a historical pattern for plum scents in general. Despite its floralcy, this is thoroughly unisex but perhaps is only "suited" to people who can pull off a convincing seductive aura. Dark eyes, sex and being fed black grapes by hand - in a bottle.

this is an endlessly complex fragrance that's impossible to properly put into words. while the concept goes for an ancient tomb, which i definitely get a bit, it reads more as a dusty 1910s drawing room to me. it is a fantastic callback to the classics with the aldehydic brightness factor, while introducing more complex dried and fermented fruit notes during the drydown. when i ordered this one, i was a bit apprehensive about the listed wine notes, as i absolutely despise the balsamic qualities of red wines. balsamic vinegar makes me gag. i was pleasantly surprised when i got the notes of wine without that sickly alcoholic vinegar smell, which definitely surprised me considering its alcohol base. i also get this weird image of one of those mid-level bar and grill type restaurants? (i don't know the american equivalents but think like a kelseys or montanas for canadians) i'm not sure if it's a sort of bloody mary/caesar smell or what but i pick that up heavily. overall, i think this is one i literally cannot put into words properly. i need to run through about a million samples before i could even begin to describe this and do it justice. i get notes of aged fruit one smell, and the next i get some resins, maybe a bit of ferment thrown in for the fun of it. i encourage anyone to give it a go, but definitely not one to blind buy. all that being said, i absolutely love it. i'm truly being faced with smells beyond comprehension with this one.

If the list of notes above looks indecipherable to you, rest assured, it is equally difficult to understand when smelled. After several slow-smelling sessions with a Sacred Scarab sample, I understood it no better than when I first saw the note list on LuckyScent and thought, “What the f**k is going on here?? This is either brilliant or a total mess.” Ultimately, I found it brilliant, but not in the way I expected. The aldehydes are prominent, but still wearable (I can’t wear vintage aldehydes). The civet appears and disappears at will. It vacillated between clean and animalic. Otherwise, this composition can't be described in terms of notes, only impressions. It is unusual, shapeshifting, singular--full of mysteries it refuses to fully reveal. It provokes an irresistible intrigue; what I can decipher is either exquisite poetry or the babblings of a mad prophet. As such, my love of this fragrance is either justified or totally irrational. My husband described it in slightly less abstract terms. It is what one would imagine a 1900s-1910s fragrance would smell like, if its bottle was bedecked in an Art Nouveau Egyptian motif. It is a century-old fantasy of an ancient time. If you have read this and are no closer to conceptualizing this fragrance, then you understand this fragrance about as much as I do. Fortunately, it doesn't need to be understood to be enjoyed. TL/DR: An enigmatic masterpiece.

Many years ago, whilst in Cairo, I purchased a tiny vial of perfumed oil. It had no name and came in a bottle decorated with chipped gold scrollwork. It was the most beautiful spiced fragrance, it became my signature scent and lasted me for years and I long to meet it again so when I saw this I thought just maybe.... Anyhow, my sample came and I applied a few sprays. Well, I have to say that I like it a lot. It isn't the fragrance I am seeking, but its nice. I am a bit of a sucker for frankincense and this one is accompanied by a clean puff of incense, its spicy and gorgeous and not at all challenging. I have Mandarava, and think that there are major similarities in terms of incense and frankincense, but its much darker, syrupy and dare I say it, a touch skanky. It requires more consideration of occasion and some commitment. I think that Sacred Scarab is the virginal sister of Mandarava, lighter, more flexible, and very pleasing. I enjoyed reading about Sultan Pasha and his long journey into the world of fragrance and this is good and I would absolutely commit to buying a bottle if only it lasted longer. I am going to try again tomorrow and spray heavier, but so far, its been a very intimate experience and I have spent much of my day with my nose buried into my elbow joint wishing it would project.

This fragrance makes such a hard review. When I initially tested the Zoologist line it wasn't my favorite but a few tries later I understand why people both love it and hate it. I easily fell into the first category. It's definitely aldehydic and smells old school in the best way possible. There are gourgeous florals an there is such a beautiful rendition of civet. Now, the note pyramid mentions civet as top note but on my skin it explodes after 2-3h and stay there until the end of the sprays life and it smells insatiable along the spices and resins. I totally understand why people mention "grandma" scent but that only happens if your nose has not been trained and it's just a passing reminder from when they sniffed the aldehydes in Chanel No.5. It's nothing like those 50s. 60s, 70s fragrances. It's much more masterfully blended, it's plesantly animalic, it's tells the story it was created to tell. This is not french parfumery, it's oriental, it's raw. This takes patience to find it's beauty but once that happens is very, very rewarding. Phenomenal fragrance !! P.S. I'm not usually the one who cares about performance but this has it. It projects beatifully but elegant and it sticks to the skin for at least 10h with a shower somewhere in between.

After spending a lot of time with the full 60ml of this fragrance, I can say it's by far my favourite in my collection. Not only is it a gorgeous perfume to wear out, it also has a duality and identity to it that keeps it a complex and intimate experience for the wearer. The opening is very familiar, and very vintage. The top notes, especially the aldehydes, make for a powdery, yet undoubtedly bright opening that gives a sense of antiquity, like finding a mysterious old bottle caked with dust and popping the lid, smelling something old– yet it's retained its youth despite the years. Over time, the brightness fades, and the longer it develops on skin, the more you notice something that's been there the whole time. A cornucopia of aged fruits and ancient resins. What started as a familiar-smelling ode to vintage perfumery has progressed into a deep and opulent potpourri of plums, resins and raisins, mashed together into a sacred and complex combination. It's not for everyone, and I'd hardly consider this safe to wear daily unless you apply it sparingly, but for me, this isn't a perfume that's meant to be worn to show off or get brownie points at the club– it's for you. It's for you smell and listen to the story it's telling.

Bravo to Sultan Pasha for being one of those oil/attar makers and natural material gurus who actually has a respect and grasp of classic perfumery, clearly loves perfume, collects it, and knows it intimately. It shows in his attars which are not just fantastic, rare, high quality materials, unsupported by any compositional skill, they are like odes to classic French technique in oil form. The problem I have with attars is that I don't like the way they wear, give me an alcohol perfume any day, and my prayers have been answered, thanks Zoologist. Instantly, think big, rich, powdery, Mitsuoko chypre, meets aldehydic floral opening, that blue lotus accord (perhaps even the stuff itself, don't see why not it's Pasha afterall) and I detect a trace of jasmine and ylang or even osmanthus, it has a certain dry, summery, chalky freshness, then into downbeat drydown of resins and woods, ever detectable at the 'back' of the composition. It's fantastic, a real love letter to perfume, and a proper treat for perfume enthusiasts who love um' traditional. I thought it was great. Pretty spectacular actually.

I think this has become one of my 3 Amber scent par excellence in my collection. Beautiful, timeless, unisex. Sweet and wearable and deep and ritch in resins, not earthy enough to remind me of the scarab itself. More just reminding me the egyptians tombs fresh ingredients while preparing to fill the sarcofagus. Feels what a ritch and classy middle eastern man would wear timelessly to be elegant and refined, with taste ( none of these horrible " beast mode crap amber" kids like these days . ) For me, i wish i could smell the earthy soil element more, it's almost too sweet, but perfect for a man day and night. Could be any amber's lover new signature scent for sure. It surprises you for hours on end as Aldehydes and Lotus create an addictive contradiction with the rest of the notes. So do not think it is the "usual amber" perfume. Gorgeous creation, refined, elegant, amazing for masculine wear. Let's not forget Egyptians had a secret flower language on their tombs and the most vaste knowledge and technology in spiritual matters.

Have you ever wondered what Evelyn from the 1999 cinematic masterpiece "The Mummy" smells like? Look no further than Sacred Scarab. The opening is bright from the aldehydes and lemon, but with an animalic edge from the civet. If you're an animalic hater, you wont like this. However I happen to love the sweet funk of civet, so I found this to be very addictive. The middle transforms into an unmistakably vintage womens perfume, floral and heady. The kind a beautiful and classy women in an Egyptian library in the 1920s would wear. As it dries down, the base notes blend to create a resinous and warm scent that is somehow a bit, dusty. This really does smell like a sophisticated women exploring an Egyptian tomb in a bygone era, and I love it. I also love Camel by Zoologist, and they do both have a similar vibe to them. However to me, Camel is more wearable for every day, whereas Sacred Scarab feels very vintage and I would have to be in a very particular mood to wear it.

Another beautiful creation by Sultan Pasha. Got exactly what was described in the reviews, an opening of lemon and aldehydes followed by a bouquet of gentle civet (synthetic) and florals. Before long the kyphi incense arrives, wine, raisins and all. Marvelous, and it solidifies for me a reminder of not just Ancient Egypt but specifically the Egyptian Revival that (re)swept the West during the 1920s. This is a very vintage perfume with a modern twist and I love how he has managed the synthesis. A flapper could easily have been wearing this instead of Shalimar. This is a bright take on incense and it smells of warm sunlight. I would agree that this fragrance leans feminine by many standards, but to hell with it-- I'm happily wearing it anyway and my wife doesn't mind one bit. Look forward to trying the attar next and will leave a review when I do. Also, kudos to Zoologist for giving fragrances like these a platform. What a great time to be into fragrance...

This is just magical. The fragrance starts by stepping outdoors into sunrise on a bright morning after a chilly night. The sharp, cold shock of aldehydes and citrus are overwhelming and disorientating, but then you notice something a little dirty and grounding lingering in the background as the civet pokes its head out. It's a smell a little like the bitter, dirty smell of a crushed insect. The sun then rises and those initial bright citrus notes still linger, but the overbearing brightness is tamed by warm plum and florals notes that build and build. In the later stages of this fragrance I get the wine, the wood, the heavier resinous and sweeter base notes. They come as a relief to the exhausting brightness of the day, like having a drink on a terrace watching the sunset and smelling the thick air that the day has brought up. This is a really complex fragrance, and can be a bit much, but is a joy if you are in the right mood.

I like this a lot but it wasn't really what I was expecting at all. The opening is a complete blast of aldehyde and musk, with the lotus/plum lurking underneath. The aldehyde is pretty consistent and sticks around for most of your journey with the fragrance, which I've noticed this house tends to do by sort of frontloading a top note. The incense, myrrh, and amber are all very apparent at the base which give it a classic ritualistic/hippie vibe (which is interesting paired with the strong ozonic quality to the aldehydes). I personally get more plum than wine, and it's almost cloyingly sweet. It's trying to do a lot at once; a fresh airy aquatic, cozy smoky and animalic scents, white florals, sweet plum. But I really like it. This is probably the one Zoologist perfume I have that's a compliment grabber. The only thing I'm a little uncertain about is what weather to wear it in because of how much it does at once.

This was a blind buy (Zoologist is one of my favorite perfume houses) and a pleasant surprise, and I have no regrets; on the contrary, I adore Sacred Scarab. It begins with a soapy, dry-soapy, powdery, and floral scent. Because of my skin chemistry, this fragrance is very floral. The fragrance is then interrupted by a brief burst of what feels like watery freshness, but there is this accord of galbanum, moss, and red wine that remains throughout. This lasts and lasts and lasts on my skin indefinitely. I'm surprised that the myrrh, incense, and benzoin notes only make it through this flowery layer so late in the dry down (at least on my skin). Sacred Scarab has become a favorite of mine. This is a very interesting (and surprising) fragrance. Very wearable and long-lasting on my skin. As always with Zoologist, try before you buy.

I’ve Loved Sultan Pasha’s work for many years but sometimes I found the attars a bit fiddly and sticky to use, but this collaboration with Zoologist is a dream come true for me. This is beautiful precious stuff! It reminds me of some vintage Lancôme Sikkim perfume like I adore but it’s better. It opens long and strong and reminiscent of very vintage Mitsouko, that full fat, take a deep breath and dive deep type of perfume, the stuff that’s on a class A drugs list, it’s heady, glorious and intoxicating.......and THEN you get the open almost airy aldehydes, the sharp lemony lift before the plunge into the hot steamy sexually explicit X rated, ‘for adults’ only exclusive club of Real Perfume. Hallelujah! Try it, if you dare......Zoologist are brilliant and efficient by the way, shipping to Uk is excellent. Thank you!