You are human; what bees count must be more than parts.
Breathe on them your dream of honey-smeared taste.’
(From ‘30th May: Examining Brood’ in Bee Journal by Sean Borodale
Honey and beeswax are notes I love in scent.
The opulent glow of Honey Oud from Floris, Mamluk from Xerjoff’s Oud Stars, How You Love, the smooth groove sensual lilt of Dana El Masri’s Sade-inspired scent from Parfums Jazmin Seraï and the erotic slutty rush of Séville à l’Aube from L’Artisan Parfumeur are all beautiful oozing, waxen manifestations of animalic bee work.
|Foxy beeswax... ahhh the odour..|
Nothing quite prepared me however for the shuddering plunge of Délivre-Moi, a violent collision of bee-porn and mega-wattage vintage sillage. Even opening the box now seems to release some ghost of a couture-clad dowager sweeping through dust-filled rooms, a mauve dress of wax and pollen-stained satin with live bees frothing at the hem and bodice. It is one of the most powerful and arresting perfumes I own and I find it mesmerising. It is immensely private, compelling you in secret to scorch the atoms in your immediate vicinity, but in reality nothing beats wearing it out and watching people swoon, recoil and flee.
|From 'The Sweetest Thing' editorial for |
Vogue Australia, lensed by Will Davidson,
model Cassi Van Den Dungen
The smell of you oscillates between Versailles trollop, 80s Parisian pissoir and vast ballrooms of fading jasmine. There is a huge sense of decay, dust and anxiety in the mix; the undeniable power of the floral notes counterpointed by the honey and almandine and cherry nostalgia of the admittedly huge overdose of heliotrope. You only have to use very small amounts of heliotropin for a formula to explode with powdered marzipan intensity.