Men
Salvador Dali Pour Homme
Acordes principales
Descripción
Salvador Dali Pour Homme by Salvador Dali is an oriental fougère fragrance for men. Launched in 1987, the nose behind this composition is Thierry Wasser. The top notes are anise, clary sage, lavender, tarragon, basil, bergamot, tangerine and lemon; the heart features geranium, jasmine, heliotrope and valley lily; while the base reveals patchouli, oakmoss, sandalwood, vetiver, amber, cedar and vanilla.
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Masculino
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Nothing is more surreal than this perfumery icon. The green bottle with Aphrodite’s mouth is as peculiar as the dark, complex scent it holds: amber, patchouli, vetiver, ambery musk and vanilla. It is an olfactory journey full of stories and memories, a work of art difficult to describe but impossible to forget.
Nothing more surreal and representative in the world of perfumery art than this fragrance, an icon of an era and style. Salvador Dalí could not have chosen a better perfume than the traditional oriental Salvador Dalí Pour Homme, with such a peculiar bottle. The Apparition of Aphrodite represented in a mouth mounted on a voluminous green bottle with the best scent in the world, so complex, dark and full of stories to tell with mixed notes of amber, patchouli, vetiver, musk and vanilla in a perfect combination that takes you on a journey of olfactory pleasure and full of memories about the persistence of memory. It is difficult to describe a work of art like this.
Review of an 80s vintage miniature. The opening is dark and green, reminiscent of Puig’s Sybaris. Midway through, I notice geranium and jasmine. After five hours, patchouli dominates with a sweet touch of amber and vanilla, and soft sandalwood. By 12 hours, only cedar and vetiver remain, clinging to the skin. It was a heavy trail that softened. It lasted over 12 hours, ideal for winter and night, with a muted and dark opening.
I write this review based on an eighties vintage miniature. At the start, the fruity notes feel somewhat dark along with the green ones. This is not bad; it reminded me of another eighties fragrance I just tried, Puig Sybaris. In the middle phase I perhaps perceived some geranium and jasmine. Then, at 5 hours of application, an intense patchouli appears with a somewhat sweet impression, I suppose due to the amber and vanilla, also some soft sandalwood. At 12 hours, it is left skin-deep with cedar and vetiver appearing, but always with the patchouli present. The fragrance in its opening had a heavy trail that softened as hours passed. The longevity on me was over 12 hours, feeling clearly but more stuck to the skin. It is a fragrance more for winter, formal use, quite eighties in its conception, which I liked very much but I don’t know if it currently has the same power due to the reformulations it must have suffered. I find it more suitable for the night, as its opening is not of bright and stinging citrus, but of a more muted and dark style.
Salvador Dalí has a distant memory that can be associated with YSL Kouros, but it quickly moves aside to give way to oak, cedar and jasmine notes. I would say it gets closer to Oscar de la Renta Pour Homme or Boucheron Pour Homme; that is the aromatic closeness. Kouros is almost unique, rare and addictive, a very interesting scent that surpassed the barriers of the eras.
I will try to recreate the scene this Salvador Dalí PH suggests to me, a bottle found in any perfumery today: an office in an abandoned house, closed for decades. Upon entering, everything is frozen in the exact moment of its last visit. The light of a spring afternoon filters through dirty crystals. The books remain perfectly ordered, some open on the table; there is an open inkwell, a half-smoked pipe and a burgundy leather armchair. Several antique portraits hang on the wallpapered walls. Approaching the window and opening it, the scent of the neglected vegetation of the garden floods the room, mixing with the smell of furniture leather, old paper, dry ash and ancient wood. Dalí PH captures exactly this moment of contrast. It is clearly a nostalgic, romantic perfume, with a melancholic touch and very masculine. It seems ideal for art students, poets or types with a distinguished and bohemian air. Perhaps it is the one that best expresses the consciousness of the passage of time. Its projection and longevity are overwhelming, well above the usual nowadays. It can last all day and its dried down is precious, relaxed and a bit sinister, as at the end spicy and metallic notes predominate, with a smell that someone might remember as blood, like the last spark of an abandoned place that no one will inhabit again. In short, a masterpiece and essential for any collector.
Antique dealer. Facing the reviews that classify this fragrance as dark, terrifying and antique, I could not hold back and acquired an 8ml miniature of the original version. I then discovered a verdant liquid of toxic appearance enclosed in a pregnant bottle, with a thick black lip cap. I applied a little on my wrist and here is what I smelled: first a sweet, light, citrusy and floral sigh like the last exhalation of a garden before dying. After a few minutes, smoke emerges, dense puffs of smoke, tobacco? incense? ashes? dust? along with somewhat medicinal plants and a sweet and strange anise. Finally, patchouli, moss and vetiver. Why does this aroma evoke so much mystery and even unease? First and foremost, the woody notes are not of freshly cut or fresh woods; on the contrary, they smell to antique woods and old furniture. Then there are smoky and dusty chords, like chimney ashes and soot; some say there is a synthetic note that smells to petrol or oil, I perceive it as the smell of varnishes and lacquers of antiques or aged leather. The floral and herbal essences it contains do not shine nor are fresh, but seem dry, enclosed in the bottles of some apothecary. There is also a note, probably the vetiver, that gives it a somewhat metallic and sweet smell, like the taste of blood in the mouth. Finally, the patchouli comes to close giving it that mouldy and esoteric touch. With the foregoing one might think this fragrance smells to a funeral or a haunted house, but no; the reality is that it is a classic, masculine, aristocratic and elegant perfume. This cologne forces you almost to dress well; I cannot imagine using it if not with a suit or with a more dandy style, as it envelops you in a dark and ancestral aura.
Facing the reviews that call it dark, terrifying and antique, I could not hold back and bought an 8ml miniature of the original. I discovered a verdant liquid of toxic appearance in an pregnant bottle with a thick black lip cap. Upon applying it: first a sweet, light, citrusy and floral sigh like the last exhalation of a garden before dying. After a few minutes, smoke, dense puffs: tobacco? incense? ashes? dust? Medicinal plants emerge, a sweet and strange anise, then patchouli, moss and vetiver. Why does it evoke so much mystery? First, the woods are not fresh, but antique, like old furniture. Then there are smoky and dusty chords, like chimney ashes; some say synthetic to petrol, I perceive it as varnishes, lacquers or aged leather. The flowers and herbs do not shine, they seem dry, enclosed in apothecary bottles. There is a note, probably vetiver, metallic and sweet, like the taste of blood in the mouth. Finally, the patchouli closes with a mouldy and esoteric touch. It could seem funeral or haunted house, but it is a classic, masculine, aristocratic and elegant cologne. This cologne forces you to dress well; I cannot imagine using it without a suit or dandy style, as it envelops you in a dark and ancestral aura.
In Salvador Dalí Pour Homme I find an exquisite and splendid fragrance. It is vigorously masculine but exudes delicacy, fine gentlemanliness and gallantry. It has a unique personality, even if compared with other eighties creations. I used it at 14 years old and did not feel precocious nor too much of a baby for it. It is curious to visualise myself in adolescence using something that almost obliges one to have an ID card; that did not bother me then. I had the miniature, a lovely bottle worth keeping. Its roundly feminine forms do not detract from virility, but rather remind that every man is born of a mother. Another perfume whose container adorns its contents with luxury. The opening, heavy, has dry herbal and spicy aspects, with a certain comforting freshness of citrus. It has a warm sweetness that persists until the dried down, resting on an olfactory bed of sandalwood, patchouli, cedar and little vanilla. Longevity and projection are outstanding. It is one of the most excellent of the eighties, with quality and refinement that contrasted with its modest price, proper of that happy decade.
Review of a vintage: few concessions hehe. Not even in the opening is it kind, nor citrusy nor fresh. Soon it reminds me of Antaeus and the comparison holds; they share patchouli, moss and clary sage. Although it does not declare leather or castoreum, I perceive that typical roughness and dirtiness of the animal and good musk. Now and then I catch a glimpse of light with the anise or some flower, but always under that hard tone. From the third hour, with the vanilla and amber (which are not noticeable as they usually are), it softens and avoids boredom. I also note the woody vetiver and root. With less intensity, it lasts 10 hours or more. It is not easy, but any enthusiast should feel it today, as perfumes like this are no longer seen, unless paying a fortune.
This is not a review, as I haven’t been able to try the perfume; it is not easy to find and on the official website it seems dear for my critical moment, although I checked that on other pages it was at reasonable prices, but now it is out of stock. However, I will surely try it in the future. My reason for writing without testing it is to congratulate the sensitive, wonderful, descriptive and synesthetic review by my friend BOFIFA. I know what I am talking about, I am synesthetic. From my point of view, it is the best review I have ever read on Fragrantica. By reading it, I infer it to be the perfume I have always been looking for for the night, where I prefer heavy, mysterious and dark woods, even to something sinister; whereas during the day I lean towards clean, soapy ferns with a lavender aroma. I don’t know if trying Dalí will make it my favourite night scent, but I can assure you I am looking exactly for what BOFIFA describes one hundred per cent and even if it later didn’t transmit those sensations to me, the review would have fulfilled my expectations as sensory literature, a very important facet for me.
Morbid and sinister, this unsettling bottle hides a perfume that makes me nervous. A friend of vintage fragrances offered me a vintage of the first formula, but I didn’t buy it; it is too much for real life. It smells like a man you don’t want to meet, a vampire or demon in disguise. It has a spiced, sickly sandalwood, acidic and peppery with sage and lavender. The dry down is inhospitable, dense and leaden, the scent of a serial killer. Although many criticise it, it was created by prestigious perfumers such as Wasser or Morillas. It is not my taste, but it is a worthy work.
Morbid, sinister and fatally seductive, this already unsettling bottle conceals a scent that leaves me quite nervous. My vintage fragrance friend called to say he had a first batch of Dalí at a good price. I was about to buy it, but then I remembered I can’t blow my salary on perfumes and must be selective; even if it’s good, I didn’t buy it because I wouldn’t wear it anyway. Salvador Dalí pour Homme is a work of art that blends the harsh rigour of classic fougères, the histrionic swagger of eighties oriental woods, and a certain “something” morbid that makes you think of a type you don’t want to meet. It could be the scent of a vampire or a Persian demon, a treacherous mythological creature living amongst people but giving itself away by that spicy, harmful sandalwood with a sickly sweetness reminiscent of a resurrected Pazuzu ready to get you into trouble with very good words. To me, it smells of esoteric satanic ritual. Opening: pine, and you’ll smell pine and find no pine. Every time I try it, a balsamic, verdant, resinous and nuclear pine opens my lungs. Pine isn’t listed, but that’s exactly what it smells like. Middle phase: An agricultural-aluminous patchouli reigns over floral, resinous and solar nuances (anis, lavender). Florally acidic, spicy, herbal but peppery, not astringent. A rare and creative formula, a more worked-out and extravagant fougère that goes its own way. It is much richer and spicier than its decade-mates, besides the sage is evident, very fragrant, oily and with a verdant camphorated dry-down. Dried down: Esoteric and inhospitable. The sandalwood doesn’t arrive until three-quarters of an hour have passed, when it is noted as muddy with herbal and spicy notes; it is not the kind, luminous sandalwood, this one is matte, compact and ominous. To me, which is one of my favourite notes, I don’t like it at all, it smells dense, matted, leaden, injected with a thousand aromatic spicy notes… something that puts all your senses on alert. The dried-down of Dalí could be the scent of a serial killer. Many don’t know this line was created by prestigious perfumers like Thierry Wasser, Philippe Romano, Alberto Morillas or Mark Buxton, fragrances with artistic bottles and a nuclear, greasy, baroque and exuberant scent that allows one to dress oneself dignifiedly without spending a fortune. That is why I like the brand even if I am not a user. In reality, Laguna pour femme and Le Roy Soleil seem interesting to me. This is not to my taste, but I won’t be the one to say it is a bad perfume
The magical Bofifa makes me discover this oriental scent, dense, a bit blurry, which attracts you and scares you at the same time, like the witch stories the elders used to tell. It’s that shadow in the darkness, statues coming to life, or that sensual and mysterious woman who invites you in without saying a word. In its development it is carnal, darkly sexy, ideal for men who make women stop thinking clearly. Lavender, sandalwood and bergamot blend with body heat. It is intense, I like it as it develops over time, created in an era where an abundance of notes was the rule. A different proposal; you can buy it without worry; if you don’t like it, at least the bottle has outstanding decorative properties.
NOSTALGIA is the keyword. Beyond notes or performance, what surprises is its evocative power, the images and memories it brings. Just like with Encre Noire by Lalique: herbs, flowers, ashes, incense. Moments from my childhood in the 70s and 80s. It’s like spraying and activating the Super 8 projector of childhood, understanding the passage of time. There is no better aroma for creative activities such as writing, composing or painting. Hopefully it can approach the beauty of this piece of art.
NOSTALGIA is the only word for this. Beyond the notes, what surprises is how it evokes images and moments. Like with Encre Noire, this spray activates a silent super 8 projector with scenes from my childhood in the 70s and 80s. It is the perfect scent for creating, writing or painting, a piece of art capable of accompanying any story or song.
Some say it brings nostalgia, others say it smells like funeral pompas, haha. Many sensations, but it is very serious due to the amber, anise and basil, something like Jaguar Classic, very potent and with winter memories. At first I thought it was very nostalgic, but then it transported me to a rainstorm in a square café, warm, watching nature in splendid fury and people running with broken umbrellas. It is a winter perfume, rainy days, storms, Patagonian, southern climates. Nothing to do with Narciso Rodríguez or Encre Noire; Dalí is very different, just like Karl Lagerfeld Pour Homme with its mix of love and hate.
Too much patchouli; it smells just like my cat’s urine… Despite being on the market for only 33 years, it smells far too old-fashioned. You wear this and you imagine a grandfather.
Too much patchouli, it smells like my cat’s wee… Despite being on the market for only 33 years, it smells like something from before. You try it and you imagine a grandpa.
There is nothing more Old School than this. Personality, attitude, presence and masculinity in a very suggestive and sensual bottle.
The first Dali for men begins with an earthy explosion of lavender, anise, basil and sage, with fine citrus touches. It asserts itself and makes an impression. The roughness of the herbs is felt more upon skin contact. The floral side tries to mediate between the citrus/herbal current and the strong base, but fails in creaminess, succumbing to the earthiness and spicy woody/animal facets. The patchouli isn’t fundamental as in Zino; here it conjures magic but veers towards a spicy, slightly dirty woody side. The earthiness reminds me of Laroche’s Horizon, I suppose it has cumin. There’s a smoky spice mixed with musks that distinguish it. It’s true, it’s not innovative, blending influences from previous giants, but it has extremely high quality and interesting notes that give it its own identity. Excellent projection and perfect longevity. For lovers of bulky, intense perfumes, it doesn’t disappoint. Between woods and spiced tobacco, there might be a hint of ‘leather’; I’m not sure if it’s my nose or not. This fragrance is rich and hard to find. My review is of a miniature from the early 90s.
I want to own it; I’m drawn to the bottle, it’s a work of art.
Total old guard. An invasive scent with musky and citrus notes that creates a night-time atmosphere full of its characteristic elegance.
Pure and hard-core 80s perfume. This SD Pour Homme by Thierry Wasser for the Dalí house is a blend of Kouros, Antaeus and Zino. A scent from another world, strong, invasive and challenging, difficult to wear and not very versatile. More of an onanistic experience or an extravagant artistic fetish. If you can handle Kouros or Antaeus, this is for you too. Come on, be brave.
A total 80s perfume. This Salvador Dalí by Thierry Wasser smells to me like a blend of Kouros, Antaeus and Zino. It is a scent from another world, strong, invasive and challenging, almost a challenge to the senses. Hard to find and not very versatile, more of a fetish experience than daily wear. If you dare with Kouros or Antaeus, try this. Good luck, brave one.
What a beast from the 80s. It has no shame; it’s a powerhouse with brutal projection that never goes unnoticed. It brings me memories of my grandfather, who sometimes wore it secretly; it’s etched into my memory. It’s a work of art worthy of an award, alongside the few others that defined an era. How good it is that current brands dare to create something as transgressive as this.
Conceived to make a statement in a clear display of elegance, well-constituted by its notes. A charming little coven, earthy, deep, and mysterious, with herbs in pure harmony. The citrus balances the herbal and woody notes so that the sweet notes, sandalwood, amber, and vanilla, shine with those expansive and radiant notes. It was made to be notable. It’s a clear influence of the 80s where perfumes had their own true character. Made by fine artisanal hand, to be inhaled into the corners of the diaphragm and live in the nasal cavities. It reminds me of incense, exquisite and with a grace that no longer exists. I’m fascinated by that slightly dirty and cloying tone that gives a talcum-powdered trail and a dusty cloud of elegance. Note: it suits fresh and rainy days, cold afternoons and nights where it performs best; in heat, use minimal doses, or it becomes unbearable. Simply something gentlemanly and of great class.
I just bought it, blind, and I found a vintage DNA that reminds me of my parents shaving on a Sunday morning. It’s strong, long-lasting, very masculine, and of good quality. I’d define it as a barbershop scent with a citrus touch that brings back memories of Musk fragrances.
I don’t know much about notes, but a cousin of mine had it and people in the 90s smelled it. It was a proper gentleman’s perfume that made itself known, very earthy and citrusy-herbal. The bottle, needless to say, that dark figure with a mysterious aura.
A proper gentleman’s perfume. It was my dad’s signature; he never left home without it. That sandalwood scent that lasted hours and left a huge trail. Wow. My weakness was that sandalwood gave me a headache, but it doesn’t deny its great quality and distinctive aroma. I wouldn’t recommend it to just anyone, especially if you’re a man used to new and similar scents; Salvador Dalí has a unique DNA. If you don’t step out of current notes, you won’t like it. If you like vintage aromas, with sandalwood, with character, and that turn heads, then Salvador Dalí IS for you. Oh, and the bottle, it’s beautiful.
It has something that reminds me of Liz Taylor’s Passion.
Dalí Pour Homme captures the essence of the modern man with a unique blend of freshness and warmth. It opens with anise, clary sage, and lavender, fresh and herbaceous, distinctly masculine. It evolves into an elegant floral heart with geranium and jasmine, subtle but noticeable sophistication. The base reveals its character with patchouli, sandalwood, and cedar, offering deep woody notes and lasting sensuality. Vetiver and amber add masculinity and mystery, while vanilla softens with warm sweetness. Ideal for the man who appreciates a versatile fragrance, fresh at the start and with an enveloping warmth that endures.
How do you start describing this GREAT PERFUME? First: it’s for advanced and defined tastes, in this madness of the hobby. A highlighted patchouli bathed in mature flowers, with a singular, deep, and attractive aromatic density. The base is herbal-green-sweet. It’s not as terrible, harsh, or difficult as some say; I find it beautiful, sexy, masculine, with its own personality, like a Grey Flannel or a Kouros (the latter has more similarities with this). Dalí Pour Homme is tied to an eighties style, but it smells timeless and wearable today, for those not seeking cotton-candy or sweet-lavender trends. I recommend it for a collection, just like Kouros, Zino, Oscar de la Renta, Lapidus, Quorum, Pino Silvestre… you must smell them before you die, or to prove to yourself that you love good perfumes, beyond compliments and social acceptance. Try it, in case you regret its extinction.
For old souls like me and many of you. The other day, I was thrilled by a charming young woman, a lawyer like her husband, beautiful, one of those who drag people along with simplicity and captivate at first sight. She looked at me strangely when I told her I watched black-and-white films; that foolishness made me realise the generational gap with thirty-year-olds. This perfume is for those who watch black-and-white films. For me, it’s a mixture slightly aniseed, a delicious nuance, reminiscent of Quorum and the first Essence by Loewe. Charming, correct longevity, and personal enjoyment. You can wear it with your head held high, making a style statement. A fantastic classic.
If you’re looking to evoke a coven in the nose of anyone sniffing you out of curiosity, this isn’t your fragrance… or is it? Perhaps a little. In this 1987 release, I find nothing unique or macabre; on the contrary, it fits its era perfectly, rich and wearable. The only gloomy aspect is the bottle, as the liquid smells of ‘old money’ for an eighties yuppie in a white suit. Perhaps those who find it challenging have vintage versions or a ‘spiked’ essence. It smells similar to the best of the 80s, like Lauder for Men at the start with a metallic touch; at the end, a faint animal note that doesn’t reach Kouros’s wildness but gives an idea. In the advanced dry-down, the friendly side of Zino Davidoff emerges, with sandalwood, amber, and vanilla where the patchouli is now domesticated. If you already have Zino and Lauder, Dalí is redundant, but don’t be discouraged from buying it: the quality of the liquid and the bottle’s aesthetics represent the epitome of perfumery that has gone and will never return, the golden age of powerhouse scents.
I see they sell similar perfumes, but this one didn’t resemble any of them. I wonder if they still make it; it would be a sin if they’ve discontinued it. It’s oriental, intense, rare, and cloyingly sweet. It’s the kind of scent that will surely have people asking what you’re wearing. Mysterious, I loved it.