When Karine Bouin’s Peau De Bête pounced on us last year, it elicited a fair number of gasps, with several writers stating they were overwhelmed by its scandalous dosage of animalic notes. As is often the way, the hype led to disappointment in some quarters, because leather-lovers hoping for the ne plus ultra of barnyard orgies – in other words, scentusiasts with considerable experience of the sweatier end of the olfactory spectrum – soon realised that this isn’t the hoof-stomping, nostril-flaring Minotaur some would have us believe. But that shouldn’t be held against the creative forces at Liquides Imaginaires. After all, with the name they’ve chosen, they’ve given us a clear indication of how this scent ought to be read: it’s not just about the beast, but about skin as well. So yes, there’s no denying that bodily, near-scatological odours form the sinuous backbone of this fragrance’s composition: you can’t use substantial quantities of cumin, cloves and leather materials – made transparent through the use of cedar and citrus notes – without evoking steaming flesh. But it’s the nature of the fabric covering the backbone – the texture of the perfume – that’s far more compelling. Situated somewhere between velvet, suede and angora, it envelops the wearer like a hybrid epidermis, sleek and inscrutable, yet concealing a deep-rooted core of heat. Last year’s Alaïa scent played the skin-hugging card, but it lacked sufficient personality to be distinctive. Papillon’s Salomé dished up some gorgeous dirt, but didn’t know when to pull back. And Frederic Malle’s new Monsieur. opted for riot-causing levels of testosterone, but then forgot about the need to be beautiful. Somehow, Peau De Bête succeeds where all three of those scents fall short, and it does so without ever raising the volume of its growl.
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I do love the sound of this and I do love the name.
Salome is an interesting one I must try. Maai was quite the beast in the persistent dry down I found.
However, Oud 27 by Le Labo ..I was expecting a fearsome monster but found whisky in a bottle. Quite liked it.
I have started following you on IG by the way .
Mimi, thanks very much indeed. I'll have to see if I can find you on IG 🙂
This sounds interesting. Especially because I recently got a sample of Salome and was pleasantly surprised. I thought I can't stand "dirty", "skanky", or whatever people would call it, because I almost threw up on Muscs Khoublai Khan, but somehow I instantly loved Salome. Maybe because of its retro vibe and fantastic sillage. Yet I found it too intensive to be worn every day. I think it would wear me instead the other way round. I liked Alaia too, but it is in a different camp, more mainstream but sophisticated. Maybe Peau de Bete would be just right for me.
Neva, thanks for drawing a comparison between Salome and MKK. Maybe what you don't like about the latter is its use of musks. I'm sure Salome must contains some musks too, but they're not dominant; the emphasis is much more on cumin, spices and leather. The musks in MKK give it that animalic/metallic quality which many people find difficult to take.
Having just tried this (and now purchased), I think you hit the nail on the head with this review. If you spray this on card something quite dreadful happens and it smells like the worse barnyard nightmare. On skin it's a completely different matter – it becomes like a second skin, and the smells that on paper were so harsh seem to soften out and diffuse. You are wearing an animal skin that is keeping you warm and it behaves all along as a close skin scent, never projecting far. Tried, by accident, alongside a couple of Henry Jacques oils, one of which really complimented Peau de Bete – it was a strong Russian leather with white floral note.
Westie, thanks so much for your comment, and yes, some materials really do come to life only on skin. I'm so pleased this particular beast works well on you.