Sloth by Zoologist Perfumes

Sloth opens sweet and fruity with chamomile, honey, and açaí. Wendigo compares it to red wine, but I see it more as a sweet red or cherry brandy. That sweetness is mixed with something dirty and animalistic, which I believe is the cumin. As it settles, the vegetal notes dominate: hay and very damp, earthy mushrooms. The lavender gives it an aftershave twist, making it more masculine. Hours later, the resins appear soft, without taking away from the woodland scent. Projection is soft but lasts on the skin for about 12 hours. It is one of the most original and crazy perfumes I have tried. I see it as unisex, leaning masculine, for mid-season (especially autumn) and super informal; ideal for a weekend at home or a family visit. It invites relaxation and laziness, like the animal it is named after. I loved trying it, though I don’t see it for myself. Pleasant: 7/10 Interesting: 9/10 Versatile: 6/10 Original: 10/10

This fragrance is amazing and peculiar. I don’t know which olfactive family to classify it in. It is green, evoking humid woodland vegetation, but it is not a fougère despite the moss and lavender; nothing classic. On the opening, you are hit by something falsely fruity, reminiscent of red wine. I suppose it is the açaí berries, which I have never smelled before. Then the chamomile and anise appear so strongly it seems like an infusion. Undoubtedly, they represent the sloth’s view of the world with a relaxing scent that almost invites sleep. Despite evolving a lot, it never loses its herbal and warm nature, nor that exotic touch that makes you think you have never smelled anything like it. It smells like the sum of its notes, but also as if those notes have gone past their use-by date. There is something fermented, like vegetables left in the heat. It would fit Orto Parisi if I didn’t feel the notes were less synthetic. As for occasions of use… well, I don’t know what to tell you. I only have a sample and I don’t know if it will become a full bottle. But I can attest to my experience with unclassifiable aromas: they serve whatever you want. They were not created to earn compliments or seem clean in the office; their purpose was simply art. And art depends not only on the creator but on the receiver. You give it the missing half of its soul. It will serve you for something that serves no one else. That is the best thing that can be said of an author’s perfume.