Perfume Reviews

Reviews of Salome by Papillon Artisan Perfumes

Total Reviews: 31
Beautiful floral opening strong in jasmine mixed with musk. Sort of the same opening feel as Kiehls, but they depart pretty quickly. There is much more going on here, and at a much deeper level. The heart is a gorgeous birch tar castoreum leather feel, a bit smoky, and just really deep, and a bit dark, line a hazy dark tan color. Really something i have not run across much. It has a timeless beauty to it. It left an oil sheen where i applied it. Really just smells of high quality. Makes me want to xheck out other things they've done, that type if quality. Thumbs up.
11th June, 2019
Cognac-like, booze infused jasmine. Cold, stony note. Mossy oak. Mountain earth. Hints of bitter orange. Rich, thick patchouli and styrax. Rich too, are animalics, in an under-layer.

Rose is here somewhere. I cannot find her directly. I sense her voice. She must be shy. Jasmine, animals, and resinous delights continue to smooth out into a pashmina of aroma. Very well constructed perfume, this! One of the finest oriental style scents I've experienced. Excellent sillage, especially in fresh air. Very long-lasting.

Animalic notes become even deeper over time. It becomes "amber-y", too. I love it!
27th April, 2019
A fantastic, if nostalgic, perfume. The opening was ornate, over the top, abundant floral sweet-notes (unashamedly pretty and feminine, not playing it cool or coy), setting such a gorgeous stage I hoped what came after would do it justice. And it did. It developed a delicious grrr underneath that gave it the depth I was really longing for with such great florals, becoming quite sensual, fulfilling its promise. How perfect is that?

The underlying simmer was a big cuminy spice note, fragrant, warm and opopanax-like in its lightly burnished warmth, a great foil to the wonderfully feminine florals.

The other basenotes gradually coming in really connected with the cumin, developing a worthy counterpoint to the strong emotive florals, not exactly blending but creating a sort of high-low layering, like two parts of a choir that you can distinguish easily yet hear their combined song. The sillage was deliciously darkened floral, but if I smelled my skin, it was predominantly cuminy, spicy basenotes.

It had a drydown that delivered and developed beautifully for hours. There have been so many fragrances with disappointing or disappearing drydowns anymore, I always take note if the fragrance has a good bottom. It means enough to me that I will buy a perfume that has an excellent drydown over a fragrance I may enjoy the top half more. I think I enjoy a good extended drydown most in a fragrance, and they’re fairly rare in newer compositions.

Salome, though a big oriental-styled fragrance, didn’t have a lot of cloying vanilla, the thing I never cared for in orientals (think 80’s) and was clearer, leaner, and earthier, so it actually seemed somewhat floriental. The fragrance I think of most in relation to this is Bal A Versailles, but I believe I like Salome more. It is a little cleaner and more upfront, and the florals in this sing. It’s a very long lasting fragrance, continuing a full day and into the next morning. Really smashing, but use discernment on where you wear.
23rd March, 2019 (last edited: 05th April, 2019)
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I think cumin is wonderful. In FOOD.

In perfume, where it has become a go-to note for achieving a certain level of “skank,” it is almost always overpowering, obfuscating, and downright cheap-smelling.

And it pretty much ruins Salome for me.

This starts off beautifully, the initial spark of spicy florals giving way after about an hour to some sweet smoke and soft leather. After that, though, it’s all cumin all the time, a shrill, one-note tune played at high volume for the next couple hours before finally exhausting itself. The musky floral of the deep dry down is nice enough, but by this time I just don't care anymore.
17th March, 2019
My full flacon just came in!

Salome is a complex, witchy brew expressly designed for erotic contemplation. Cumin and animal musks create an animalic raunch that is undeniable... Yet those of us who adore skanky perfumes will love it. While it is being compared to animalic chypres of yesteryear, no fragrance from perfumery's "Golden Age" (say, 1912--1970) ever dared to be this barnyard dirty... unambiguously so.

Texas cedar figures very prominently in this blend, and I'm surprised it's not offered as one of the notes in the above diagram for rating. There also appear to be some Indian "ayurvedic"-type notes present in this scent, not mentioned either. There is, for instance, a medicinal aromatic afoot... I think it's camphor... an unusual note I love.

Something in the opening notes smells, to me, like the potties one smelled on 1970's Greyhound buses. As in: clean trying to mask un-clean.

Fragrantica, above, lists "leather" as one of its keywords. I guess it's the styrax + castoreum they're observing.

The scent dries down to what seems to be a very...um... woman-like smell, if you catch my meaning. This scent is animalic far beyond that of Muscs Koublai-Khan, Rochas Femme, Kouros, Shalimar, Tabu, Absolue Pour Le Soir, Bal a Versailles. In fact, its only competition for skank-factor might be Brent Leonesios's NO. 8

As I hit a hot, steamy shower tonight, I got a whiff of the tobacco note: it's not fresh tobacco... no, it's stale, grey cigarette smoke, mingling with the civet. My, my-- our SALOME has been a naughty girl in so many ways. But it's intriguing, and adds a further note of audacious loucheness to the mix.

Yet Luca Turin is correct in that, this melange of notes is blended so expertly, so smoothly, that one cannot fault it... It does that classic thing of creating a unique Gestalt all its own.

But I love SALOME. I'm a guy, and will wear it happily anywhere I want. Who knew Bad could be so Good?
10th November, 2018
I dont dare say what this reminds me of😅.most skanky scent that I own. I only wear it when in a daring mood and in the right company of people that can appreciate it
06th May, 2018
This smells similar to the bottle of supremely aged <i>Bal à Versailles</i> in the cupboard of an old woman I know. I visit her regularly and always take a chance to sniff the bottle.

This old woman once wanted to be a rabbi but, as a woman, was not allowed official entry into the training program. Undeterred, she went anyway, uncredited, invisible yet never unnoticed, just a complete baller with ultimate self-respect who was not in the slightest interested in the approval of others, only in the path to knowledge.

Reading the reviews about crotches and sex, you might think this an odd mix with either rabbinics or the elderly. I think not. First, I smell a strong soapy note. I think this is just a genetically-determined reaction to one of the components of <i>Salome</i> (and <i>Bal à Versailles</i>), so make sure to try before you buy. I love this effect and think it blends superbly with the other ingredients. It might not be for you although it sure is better than what I guess a urine smell would be like.

Second of all, although Salome herself is depicted as an ineffective seductress in the Christian tradition, in Jewish history she was actually a serious queen. So it often is that the strong women of one tradition are portrayed as shallow sexual vampires by the (male-centred?) tradition which seeks to overwrite it. Well, you need to be a queen to wear this perfume. Some people WILL hate it and you have to rise above that and deliver with supreme confidence.

You weren't allowed in? You go anyway, and excel to the shock of everyone. That's the essence of this fragrance to me.
18th March, 2018
Papillon Artisan Perfumes / Salome


The olfactory group: Chypre Floral
Odor Characteristic: Hot and bitter
high durability
Play smell: Suitable

Starting note:

The first spray The first thing you'll find is the smell of bitter and sour citrus chords. It will not take more than a few moments.

Rhubarb leaves and dusted wood are old and earthy next guests you experience.

Then the scent gets a bit steady and you will find on the side of smoky, woody, black and burned leather.

Middle notes:

The smell of black-and-white chocolate flavor is a little more. At this stage, the scent of bitter taste, floral and powdery flavor in the fragrance is less fragrant, and the chords are slightly less easily dissolved, but they are heavily dull, animal, dirty and dirty.


Final note:

There is not much difference between notes of this fragrance.
You can clearly see the chords of the previous notes in this stage of perfume.

One of the differences between the notes is the smell of bitterness, the smell of smoke and the presence of a weak vanilla scent that comes with the heat and bitterness I saw first.

At this stage, the weight of the work is reduced and the aroma of black and chocolate will make you enjoyable.

Papillon Artisan Perfumes Salome

Leather aromas are wooden, black, animated and spicy
A collection of heavy notes ...!
Heavy and slightly uniform scent.

Hearty aromatic fragrance so I feel I do not understand the fragrance.
I had not seen any perfume so heavy that it was difficult to separate the chords.

Wearing such an aroma for anyone is not possible. It is dry, heavy and harsh.

You did not expect this perfume to feel excitement and excitement. It may make you feel tired and depressed.
Do not expect much feedback.
The imagination of people around you is scented with smell of silt, heavy leaf and burned wood with warm leather ...!

An image of perfume in your mind will see you in an adult person who has one-handed wine and in the other hand a mint-tobacco cigar and wants to enjoy the magnificent 20th century party.

Your receipt of this perfume will be a person who is decorated, dignified, mysterious, calm and at the same time proud and rogue.

Papillon Salome

You can get dressed for special occasions

For adults, it will be beautiful with raincoats and dark and gray trousers.

I wanted to make the salome a bit more refreshing, more flexible and relaxed, so do not let it off, that this fragrance is suitable for middle-aged adults and I still have to wear it.

Salome has a bipolar state and is full of contradictions, you may fall in love with or hate


Sillage: 4/5

Longevity: 4/5

Scent: 3/5

Overall: 3.75 / 5
09th February, 2018
Salome is not my bag of chips. I purchased a generous sample after seeing Salome win so many Basenote accolades. I've been trying for many months now with Salome, bringing it back out and giving it another go. I'm no stranger to complex assaults on my olfactory sensors, but Salome never tames them.

As other reviewers have stated, a little goes a long way. Salome has also offended those around me. I've receive more negative feedback and comments when wearing Salome.
19th November, 2017 (last edited: 29th November, 2017)
A real thriller. A total skank. Oh my, a classically styled wonder.

Salome is resolutely animalic. But it's also fairly floral, powdery, and faintly aldehydic. The effusive opening is uric and ammoniac and indolic, thrusting jasmine like a stadium speaker pounding out bass. The hyraceum (Africa stone) is almost imperceptible, but this deft integration is clearly in play, that sort of old book, history museum hall aura that helps invoke a sense that this perfume was made several decades ago.

Moores has really succeeded in composing something whose sum is much, much greater than its parts; again, the integration here is masterful.

Alluring, and for the courageous and the cognoscenti.

24th September, 2017
I love animalics and so wanted to love this one. It is incredible, except like ruining a great gourmet meal by accidentally dumping too much salt in, the cumin is WAY too much. I like skanky frags, but cumin is a dangerous note. Amouage Fate Man uses just enough to be interesting, but this has so much that it smells like armpit sweat. Someone who eats tons of curry and cumin forgets their deodorant. The cumin settles down after 5 min. and it gets better, but Wow! The first blast is sweaty!

UPDATE: After 1/2 hr, this settles into a very wearable animalic and the cumin has faded.
15th September, 2017
Salome.
Damn IFRA to hell. I love this idea behind Salome and its well done considering the restraints of the regulations and aroma chemicals of today that make it impossible to put out a great animalic fragrance, forcing perfumers to rely on a heavy dose of cumin to make anything smell like something naughty. It was first done in re-formulated Rochas Femme, and done well but paled to the first formula, and even Lutens MKK and his love of cumin in his cannon of fragrances. So what we are left with is a holographic idea of sexy rather than the real deal. God bless the creator of Salome that came up and executed this idea with her hands handcuffed by these agencies. This was magic to pull off what she did.

The opening is rather intriguing with a blast of jasmine and cumin, and once it settles down into the heart she is very wearable but there is always a certain level of irritation with the animalics chosen but its no where near the level of Bogue Maai. Its easily forgiven here with a creative licence of the perfumer. I feel this would be devastating on a man rather than a woman, but feel both sexes can wear this well as a modern animalic. The best part is the drydown. Worth a sample and try.
14th February, 2017
Whoa! This is one raunchy scent! This feels like one of those big, old-style vintage perfumes, rich and decadent. In fact it reminds me of another scent, from long ago, but I can’t put my finger on it. I can’t help picturing one of the 50’s screen sirens: skin tight, black satin corset, stockings, posing seductively on a fur rug. I couldn’t wait to try this one – I kept on sniffing the sample bottle (courtesy of purecaramel) all last night. This is a sexy, musky, dirty floral, and I like it. I put it on this morning, and I love the way it has evolved. I get the sweetness from the jasmine and the rose, and the lovely tang from the citrus, overlaid with the tobacco, which wafts about me very pleasantly, then I’ll get what I’m guessing is the animalic element coming out – it’s like all of the ingredients in this all leapt into bed together and got down and dirty. Sex and musk and leather and sweat with the sweetness of the flowers. I’m not normally a day-time vs night-time perfume person, but this to me is what you’d wear out on a romantic night out with your beloved, or a cosy evening in – just the two of you, curled up together on the couch, canoodling and feeding each other strawberries and sipping champagne in front of a toasty warm fire, until you suddenly pounce on each other and it’s ON! It’s dark and seductive, a total sex-bomb in a bottle. Definitely FBW, definitely on my wish list.

EDIT: I put this on in the morning, then after lunch decided to give my bathroom the damn good cleaning I had been promising it for the last couple of weeks (don't judge!). This afternoon, I could only smell this if I held my wrist to my nose - otherwise all I could smell was cleaning products. So off I trotted to the shower, and as soon as the warm water hit my skin - blam! There was the animalic note, only different this time - wild and earthy and ever so slightly rank. The heat from the water also made the flowers in this spring up again. I've never had a perfume do that before, and it was unusual but very nice.

EDIT: I meant to say earlier - this is the first fragrance I've tried with a strong animalic note to it. I walked out into the kitchen to get breakfast after putting it on, bent to pat the cat, and he hooked his paw around my wrist, pulled it towards himself and spent a good while sniffing at it. He's never done that before with any of my other scents. I wonder which bit caught his attention?
03rd September, 2016 (last edited: 04th September, 2016)
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First review: 2 July 2016:
I admit I came to Salome with high expectations. On first tentative sniff, I got a ravishing whiff of what I hoped Salome was going to be--a carnivorous throwback floral laid over gobs of dirty animalics, with plenty of sweet musks and powder. I got some perfume on my hands before I closed the sample vial, and even then, I smelled it, rich and raunchy and alive, and sweet in that weird way that animal musk is sweet. I kept sniffing it and thinking about how glorious this stuff would be when I really opened that vial and let it rip.

So I did, the next day. On application, the roundness I first noticed was still there, in the barbaric yawp of civet and castoreum, married to something that hinted at jasmine and maybe rose. Then the florals fell away completely. A cloud of cumin rose from the animalics, burned my nose, and then hovered there for two hours. It was very hard to smell anything else while the cumin was present. After it receded, I could smell the sweet musk mixed with the hot cumin for hours, but only very close to skin.

There's no mistaking the provocative nature of the animalics here, so I'm not too bothered that this has quite discreet sillage. I am, however, trying to figure out what this perfume really wants to be. On my skin, it smells like a spicy Oriental, from somewhere in the neighborhood of Opium--if Opium were dazed and supine on a bed of plush musks, its spices ground to the finest powder.

I wanted those florals from the opening to bloom over the top of the animal and spice, but maybe that's just me. Maybe that would have been gilding the lily. Maybe this is all skin chemistry, and other people get a more satisfying, more balanced perfume than I did when I tested this. But I tried it again, and the same thing happened. (My skin amps bitter tones and tamps down sweetness, which is one reason I wear some loud florals.) The spice and musk in Salome actually come off a bit rugged on me. With that and its whisper of florals, I'd like to smell this on a man--if it calmed down and came together long enough for me to do it.

Neutral for now. To be revisited in future.

First edit: after a second test, I woke up the next day with the most amazing scent on my wrist. This occurred right before Basenotes went down for maintenance a few days ago on 7/28/2016. I'm buying a bottle, but the jury is still out.

Second edit: 3 October 2017
After a year and change, I've done a more-or-less 180 degree turn from (most of) my former opinion. (I also have no idea what I was talking about when I mentioned "discreet sillage," because this gal is not shy). Salome now ranks among my very favorite perfumes, from anywhere, anytime. Its ad copy reads, "Slip into your second skin," and that's how I've come to feel about it. Big, old-school florals are my wheelhouse, and Salome occupies a place of honor smack in the center. I owe the perfume, and Liz Moores, a better and more detailed review--but for now, I hope this amendment will do.

One thing I will say for now: I understand that, compared with the vintage perfumes that inspired it, Salome feels relatively loud and crude in comparison. It's sort of like the difference between the finesse used by the Old Masters' paintings and the thickly smeared gobs of textured oil we see in 20th century painting (representational or non)--in fact, Salome's drydown in particular feels blended like the thickly applied paint that modern artists use to completely obliterate the canvas behind it. But Salome is homage, not pastiche--it's a statement of feudal allegiance rather than a servile imitation. I know of few perfumes that rock the vintage vibe with as much flair and panache--and also with the gonads to put the most challenging aspects of vintage perfumery front and center to boot. Impressive stuff.
12th July, 2016 (last edited: 14th March, 2018)
Salome was a bit of a first for me. I wasn't sure what to expect based on reviews and descriptions of this fragrance. I decided to see for myself and acquired a sample for testing.

Upon opening the vile, I was kind of weary about putting this on my skin. I had never worn anything in the realm of this pungent, spicy smelling juice before, and didn't know if I could pull it off. I wanted to give it a chance though, so I dabbed the tiniest amount on my neck and waited for my wife to declare her disgust (she doesn't usually like animalistics). But to my surprise, she actually liked this on me. I was relieved because I really liked wearing it!

The drydown reminds me of a particular incense that we used to burn in our house growing up. I will say, be careful not to overdo it; a little goes a loooooong way. Sillage is nuclear, and longevity is immortal. I love the evolution of Salome on my skin. The rosy, floral notes I smell, quickly part, bowing to the animalistic, earthy undertones and that heady tranquil incense.

This is now one of my favorite fragrances to layer. I won't wear it by itself because I feel it is too strong and a little overwhelming. By no means is it a second fiddle however. It's silage and longevity are so un relenting, it will gradually take over, and becomes the final act in an olfactory concerti. I reiterate, use sparingly, because too much of a good thing...
02nd July, 2016 (last edited: 21st July, 2016)
rbaker Show all reviews
United Kingdom
During the first moments of the opening stage one could be forgiven to believe that this is heading into a floral direction. There is a dirty and darkish jasmin background than allows a lovely carnation to shine, with a rose and whiffs of lilac.

This initial second are treacherous, for nigh immediately a styrax-patchouli duet develops and takes over the plot. It is a spicy and leathery pairing, dark with musky and civery undertones and castoreum nuances added in. The patchouli is crisp with an edge, but not exceedingly harsh - this is no Purple Patchouli.

At times a slightly powdery sweetness is present, and towards the later stages an oakmoss impression emerges. This oakmoss is quite well done, but is lack natural liveliness; more the result of an arithmetic olfactory than an inspiredly creative injection of inspiration.

The performance is powerhouse material on my skin: strong projection, excellent projection and a gargantuan fifteen hours on my skin.

A good winter leather/spicy winter scent, not too harsh, than is well-made but a bit following trodden paths. A good technical implementation though, and overall a nice creation. 3.25/5.
20th April, 2016
You'll think you're back in the heyday of fragrance, wearing this: dense, animalic to the nth degree, with smoky florals in the background, Salome is something Germaine Cellier (she, of Bandit) could have created. To my nose, Salome might even be the offspring of vintage Bandit and Opium. Marvelous.
27th March, 2016
Got a sample and immediately had to have the full bottle. I'm in love with each stage of this gorgeous, vintage-smelling, sex pot of a fragrance. The smoke, the indolic flowers, the deeply unsettling and very carnal humanness of this scent is like nothing I've smellled before. Perhaps if you crossed vintage Cuir de Russie with vintage Tabac Blond and added in a hefty dollop of MKK and ancient incense, you'd approximate something like Salome. All I can say is WOW, I'm in love.

Edit: I have to say that now that I have owned this perfume for quite some time, I find it more challenging to wear than I initially thought. The dry down is gorgeous, but waiting for Salome to calm down and lose a bit of its cumin-y skank takes time and patience that I don't always possess. This is definitely not an everyday scent.
08th March, 2016 (last edited: 11th September, 2017)
Ah Salome, you could have danced with a severed head on a platter for as long as you wished, I couldn’t have cared, but did you have to do it wearing such rank underwear?
By now it is firmly established that Salome is riding high in the perfume blogosphere for its animalic daring – and, hey, I like some of that – but I can’t shake off the impression that it’s trying too hard.
It is a perfume with numerous antecedents, not just the pheromonal airs of long lost vintages, but perfumes that are of more recent creation. Beginning with a blast of warm and furry civet it eventually settles into quite an accomplished beasty musk, guaranteed to get my interest, not just for its carnal aspect but because good musks have an endearing warmth and sweetness to them which is supremely comforting, like laying down in a corner with a family pet that loves cuddles. But Salome is overloaded with cumin, particularly in the early phases, and this comes across more as a perfumer’s tantrum rather than the confident statement being aimed for. Successful musks often rely on a white floral element (for example Kiehl’s) and here the support comes from jasmin and possibly orange blossom, but it’s the pairing of these elements with the cumin that is more suspect. A dab of cumin on white florals is a classical idea, but it can go hideously wrong as in Al-Haramain’s Atifa Blanche, the memory of which is enough to make me wince. Here the cumin is like a lover leaving skid marks on your sheets – some folks go for that kind of thing, but me, I’m thinking, ‘Will it come out in the wash?’ and making a mental note of never sharing my bed with the individual in question again.
Now to come to the perfumes Salome reminded me of. In the opening, where the civet is most evident, I got a flash of Laura Tonatto’s beguiling Oropuro, which takes civety-musky notes and works civilized magic on them, giving full play to their sensuality without drowning them in dirt. Then, as the quality of the musk recreation unfolded (and it is a genuinely striking musk), I was reminded of Bruno Acampora’s Musc which takes cheapo bazaar musk oils and magically elevates them to their zenith. And when the cumin hit in Salome, Theo Fennel’s Scent came to mind with its rich mix of florals, musks and cumin. But Scent is a polyphonic creation with dark velvety depths – it took me a while to adjust to the cumin there, I will admit, but it always made sense in the composition and was not deposited like an undesirable on the floor as it is in Salome.
So, in terms of perfume pedigrees, I think Salome has had a good start in life, but it’s her brattish behaviour that lets her down. It could be my antipathy to the cumin overdose that is clouding my judgment, but I feel that all that dancing with a platter has left Salome seriously unbalanced.

05th March, 2016
For the first hour or so, this is an almost suffocating rush of civet, castoreum & cumin. I've tried quite a few of the famously animalic fragrances, & I love a little dirt, but this is too much, even for me. Wearing this, I wondered why I bothered taking a shower, & was glad I had no plans to leave the house. Eventually it settles a little, becoming friendlier & more akin to the animal fur scent of L'Ombre Fauve, but for me the filth remains prominent right to the end. Where are the florals that others speak of? The only one I detect is a hint of carnation, along with a little patchouli & a chypre base. I also get the "metallic goat" that deadidol mentioned. Thirteen hours in it's still going as a skin scent.
As I said, I love a little dirt, but for me it has to be balanced with sexy florals or a powdery sweetness to make it wearable. Here it dominates the entire composition, & feels like a base accord, with no top or middle notes to relieve the sense of feeling like I haven't washed in weeks. I admire the audacity of releasing a scent like this in this day & age, but it is not something I can wear.
27th January, 2016
What a disappointment! Having heard so much about this fragrance I really wanted to like it. I love animalic fragrances, and the notes describing Salome sounded as if I would enjoy this. On first spraying it seemed perfect. Complex, animalic musk, oriental. Then after about an hour I started noticing the smell of soap, which got stronger and stronger and overpowered everything else. Not the smell of Aldehydes, nor a typical soap fragrance, but unfragranced, sour, fatty, greasy soap base. It is horrible and I can still smell it three hours later. Once again I find this to be a badly blended fragrance . Maybe with better evaluation it could have been saved. What a shame.

ADDENDUM. Tried this on Monday, it is now Wednesday and I can still smell it. Or the last traces of it anyway.
11th January, 2016 (last edited: 13th January, 2016)
drseid Show all reviews
United States
Salome opens with a honeyed musky orange before quickly moving to its heart. As the composition enters its early heart, the initial musky orange turns into indolic orange blossom, as an absolutely huge amount of starring dirty cumin spice enters, joined by co-starring animalic hyrax, with dirty jasmine and slightly powdery carnation in support. During the late dry-down the dirty florals and the cumin recede and finally vacate, leaving the remnants of the animalic hyrax and now moderately powdery carnation to join hay-like coumarin through the finish. Projection is average, but longevity outstanding at well over 15 hours on skin.

Salome has been making quite the splash on the perfume scene since its release last year in 2015. One of the frequently mentioned standout attributes claimed is its heavy use of animalics, and this reviewer definitely concurs, for better or for worse. The key animalic attribute used in the composition's heart is hyrax. The best way to describe hyrax is an animalic hybrid with characteristics of musk, civet and castoreum. In the case of Salome, the musk aspect comes out early, and as time passes the smooth castoreum facet takes control in the late dry-down with the civet relatively subdued throughout. If the liberal use of hyrax isn't animalic enough for you, the perfumer adds indolic jasmine and orange blossom to the mix for an increased dirty nature to the composition. While one might think all these indoles and musky animalics would be too much to handle, surprisingly they work to a relatively large degree, especially late when the castoreum-like facet of the hyrax controls. Unfortunately, there is a big show-stopper here, and it is in the form of an extremely large amount of dirty cumin spice that shows up seconds after initial application and dominates through the early heart, not completely vacating until the late-dry-down. This dirty spice is wholly unnecessary and overpowering to the extreme. It is as if the perfumer wants to dare the wearer to see just how far over the line they can go before crying "Uncle". For this writer, the animalics, while not really to my taste were tolerable, the indolic florals while additionally not to my taste were surprisingly interesting, and the powdery carnation never got too powdery to call it a day. Unfortunately, that dirty cumin used was just too darn much, particularly when added to the already overly dirty animalic mix. At the end of the day, Salome is the kind of composition one can appreciate as a work of art, but wearing it is quite another thing and this writer *wears* perfumes. The bottom line is the $160 per 50ml bottle Salome is definitely a departure from the common, bland "fresh" compositions of today, but while its heavy indolic florals and deep musky animalics are tough to wear but never overly-so, its dirty cumin absolutely is, earning it an "average" 2.5 stars out of 5 rating and a neutral recommendation. Setting aside the rating, if deep musky animalics with dirty cumin spice work for you, absolutely give Salome a try as it is bound to impress (though I would argue many vintage spicy animalic perfumes smell better, are much more wearable and can be had for considerably less money with some effort), but if heavy animalics, indoles and dirty spice are not your thing, this one will scare the heck out of you!
03rd January, 2016 (last edited: 05th January, 2016)
kitsch Show all reviews
United Kingdom
Thanks to the kindness of La Flaneuse I got to try this, from a dabbing sample vial.

For me, Salome recalls the drydown of vintage Opium, fading on your clothes from the glory that was Opium freshly applied a day or two earlier. Accordingly, I miss the spiciness and thus find Salome lacking.

I have vintage Opium galore, and even have Nohiba to enjoy, and they more than suffice so I shan't seek Salome to bring either to mind as a partial re-creation.
27th December, 2015
Wow a civet floral sexy beast of a fragrance that reminds me a bit of Serge Lutens Musc Koubli Khan but better. The floral aspect gives the dirty civet aspect space to breath, it does not suffocate you out.

This smells great and very old school, you don't get many of these anamalic scents on the shelves these days. This is real perfume here.

Roja Dove has a very exclusive fragrance out called Diaghilev at Harrods that's costs about £750. Basically it's a very civet and mossy scent with a few florals and that does not come close to this one.

Those who have a adventurous spirit and are a little bit daring will love this one. It's not for everyone but my god this fragrance is magnificent.

10 out of 10. Wow!
30th November, 2015
This is a powerful animalic fragrance that is rich in civet, castoreum and similar carnal smells. Animalic fragrances are always polarising - either you love it or hate it. But also - they do smell differently on people's skin, and this needs to be taken into consideration.

I find animalic fragrances interesting...challenging sometimes. If I find one I really like, I would have no problem buying a full bottle. My current favourite is Montecristo by Masque. Salome is quite similar, though somewhat more powdery, dusty and more stale.

I do catch references to older people who have not showered and I would not like to be associated with smelling like an old, dusty man who has not washed. Thus, this is not a perfume for me to enjoy.
22nd November, 2015
With Salome, Papillon pays tribute to the glorious skanky florals of the last century. Spicy carnations, camphoraceous jasmines, animalic musks, indoles, a hint of civet.

The opening may be a nose-curler for some but once the fragrance hits its strides, there is no denying this is a bold raunchy fragrance designed for the sex bombs, sultry sirens and femme fatales of the world. Perhaps I am being a little dramatic but it is a tutti-fruity world we are living in.

Go big or go home?

Papillon went big, and IFRA went home.
19th November, 2015
yabadabadoo! salome is an outstanding contribution to classic perfumery, reminding me a LOT of roudnitska's skanky groundbreaker, vintage la femme. i even get a whiff of vintage miss dior, though salome is less tamed, and carries itself with a lotta 'tude. sure enough, the best features from anubis - crushingly indolic jasmine and that fab gasoline accord - are present but ms. moores has clearly upped her game - "lurid floral musk" (deadidol) - and is certainly one of the hot new noses to look out for. i'd love her to take on a hot-blooded old skool chypre! 8/10
05th November, 2015
This, is the bomb!
Any woman, wearing this, will get my attention, instantly!
It is soooo reminiscent, of the perfume of the Feminine nether regions, as they combine with a fading Quality fragrance.
Intoxicating!
10 out of 10 for this chap!

That being said I find it quite comfortable wearing this myself, as it has me wrapped up in the cozy,soft,warm arms of a woman all day.
Then again, spray lightly, unless you have the legs for fishnets!
23rd October, 2015 (last edited: 22nd November, 2015)
Wearing Salome is like listening to Ice Ice Baby by Vanilla Ice and wondering why the opening bars sound so familiar. You know you’ve heard it before, but even while your brain is scrambling to retrieve the reference, you’re enjoying the hell out of the song.

Half the pleasure comes from that feeling of “I know this tune…. don’t I?”

The thrill of the new is over-rated anyway. A friend of mine once said that the older he got, the more ok he was with buying multiple variations of a fragrance he loved. In other words, as long as it was a fantastic rendition of something he already loved, he didn’t mind if it was original or not.

The realization that Vanilla Ice simply (shop) lifted entire sections from Queen’s Under Pressure doesn’t stop me from loving Ice Ice Baby. It is its own creature, even though it plays off a chord that is deeply familiar.

Salome is a tour of the greatest hits of the fragrance skankiverse, sampling riffs from well-loved songs such as vintage Bal a Versailes, Musc Tonkin, Femme, and Theo Fennel Scent, and spinning them off into something that, while not new or wildly original, is an utter pleasure to wear. And it is such a beautiful and accomplished riff on those fragrances that one might be tempted to replace some or all of them with just Salome.

It is a ludicrously dense, packed fragrance. A super-saturated supernova of a scent with layers and layers of heavy musks, fur, flowers, spice, and sweat.Let me try to unpack the layers.

Right away, I smell a layer of vintage Bal a Versailles floating on top – honeyed orange blossoms, tobacco-leather, and a refined urine note (possibly civet). Salome’s take on Bal a Versailles is – dare I say it – an improvement on the original, because it completely removes that odd, cheap note I like to call “Plasticized Air” that always pokes out at me from Bal a Versailles. The sleaziness I always pick up from orange blossom slots in perfectly here with the cumin.

And wow, Salome is also super-cuminy. This layer strongly recalls Rochas Femme – not the softer, muskier vintage version, but the modern version which fairly shrieks with cumin, put there to give Femme back the sex curves it lost when all manner of nitro musks were banned. The cumin gives Salome a crude sexuality, reminiscent of a musky, female crotch – not unwashed crotch, just, um,….. heated, shall we say. If you’re someone who thinks that Amouage’s Jubilation 25 (the woman’s version) or Al Oudh smell like the armpits of a New York cab driver, then avoid Salome at all costs.

Under all this, there are heavy, animalic musks providing a sort of subwoofer effect, amplifying and fluffing up the other notes. I can easily identify two of my favorite musks here.

First to reach my nose (and then fade away very quickly) is a rich, furry musk strongly reminiscent of Muscs Khoublai Khan. This is mostly the effect of a rich, warm castoreum soaked in rose oil, but the similarity is impressive. MKK and Salome share this unique effect of the musk almost taking up a physical presence in front of your nose – like the swelling scent of damp hair or a damp fur coat being dried off in front of an old-fashioned electric bar heater. I can’t quite explain it, but the musk here has a tactile quality quite like sticking your nose above an agora sweater and feeling the static pulling the fine angora hairs towards your nostrils.

Underneath the short-lived MKK-style musk is the almost painfully animalic musk from Musc Tonkin – one so utterly redolent of the fur and animal fat of a marine animal that it comes off as faintly briny. Thankfully, though, it never quite approaches that metallic edge that Musc Tonkin has (which fascinates me but also repels me in equal measure). But that salty, fatty animal aspect of Musc Tonkin’s musk is present in Salome to a large degree. It accounts for the scent’s overall savory profile (as opposed to sweet).

More than anything, though, Salome reminds me of the female-sweat-soaked, musky Scent by Theo Fennell. In fact, what unites Salome, Theo Fennell Scent, and to a lesser degree, Musc Tonkin (in my mind) is the mental image I have of a group of ladies visiting each other in a formal front room in the early 1900s. It is a picture of repressed Victoriana – a room almost suffocating under the weight of dying flowers in vases, a certain “closed in” feel of an over-heated room, and stiff, rustling garments that haven’t been washed or aired recently.

And just below the surface, a massive wall of scent roiling off damp, heated womanflesh too long cooped up in restrictive brassieres and corsets. Although the room is heavily perfumed with roses and jasmine, there is something unhealthy and morbid about the atmosphere.

It’s just the type of perverseness I find sexy.

Overall, Salome has a very vintage vibe to it. If one were to subtract the brash cumin and one of the saltier animal secretions, then it would take up a more recognizably French, classical form. Underneath all the animal howling and beating of the breast, Salome is a chypre and as such has a dark, abstract structure to it that stops the dirtier elements from being a total pork fest. In its last gasps, Salome takes on the 1970’s feel of La Nuit by Paco Rabanne with its dank honey and moss tones.

Salome might be a remix rather than an original, but it reminds me that, in terms of sheer enjoyment, remixes can sometimes surpass or replace the original.
09th October, 2015
It is not bad, it is unique. But it did not work for me at all.

It got the soap bar plus some musk, however it smells like old barber powder! and that what turned me off immediately.

I would give it another try and revisit my review if necessary.

22nd September, 2015