Bee by Zoologist Perfumes

Looks like natural honey with bits of comb, a touch of orange and vanilla, and though they won’t say it, it smells like incense. People say ‘you smell so good’ or ‘you smell like a church.’ Lasts over 12 hours, projects strongly for the first 3-4 hours, then settles down.

Thanks to my neighbor Jose, who besides moving furniture knows how to throw a few beers and has a closet full of a thousand perfumes, I finally tried this. It smells like a beehive: thick honey, flowers, and resins that wrap around you instantly. The opening is sweet and viscous, rustic honey with powdery heliotrope and mimosa. Then balsamic notes and soft sandalwood emerge, all warm and resinous. It’s gourmand but without excessive vanilla or caramel; natural and complex sweetness. Lasts for hours, but in the heat it can get cloying. Compared to Kilian’s Back to Black, it’s more floral and resinous, ideal for cold weather and special occasions. A unique experience, perfect for gourmand lovers in small doses. Lasts a long time, but be careful not to overapply.

I’ve been wanting to review this for a while but couldn’t find the right season to wear it a few days and get a real feel for it. Finally, with the cold days of this winter, I dove into how dense it is. The start is purely waxy, very honeyed, with a typical urine edge common in perfumes that recreate honey well. But quickly and progressively it lightens up; the sweetness shifts from honeyed to vanilla, taking on a floral and powdery aspect. The projection and longevity are brutal; if I wear it and don’t shower, I’d smell like this until I’m buried. Although I wouldn’t wear it myself, I loved testing it. It evokes retracing a bee’s path making honey in reverse: you exit a honeycomb cell full of dense, sticky honey and fly toward a meadow of flowers. You land on a petal, fill up with pollen, gorge yourself on nectar. As a perfume, it’s very feminine, perfect for winter days when you stay home (the scent invites me to stay under a wool blanket, vegging out), though I see it as perfect for informal day or night occasions. One of the most wearable from this house; I recommend it to anyone who loves sweetness crazily. Pleasant: 8/10 Interesting: 9/10 Versatile: 5/10 Original: 8/10

I’ve wanted to write a review of this perfume for a while but couldn’t find the ideal season to wear it for several days straight to get a concise idea. Finally, I took advantage of the cold days of this winter to dive into how dense it is. The opening feels purely waxy, very, very honeyed, with a slightly irritating urine note that I often notice in perfumes that effectively recreate the honey accord. However, quickly and progressively, the perfume becomes lighter, and its sweetness shifts from melodic to vanilla-like, taking on a much more floral and powdery aspect. There’s nothing to say about its projection and longevity; I think if I wore it and stopped showering, I’d smell like this until I was buried. Even though I wouldn’t wear it as a daily scent, I absolutely loved testing it. It’s very evocative, giving me the idea of retracing a bee’s path making honey, but in reverse: the start feels like exiting a honeycomb cell full of honey, dense and sticky, to fly toward a meadow of flowers. There, it lands on a soft petal, its legs filling with pollen, and greedily stuffs itself with nectar. As a typical perfume, it feels very feminine, perfect for winter days when you don’t leave the house (the scent makes me want to stay under a wool blanket, just vegetating), though I see it perfectly for informal occasions both day and night. One of the most wearable from this house; I recommend trying it to anyone who loves sweetness crazily. Pleasant: 8/10 Interesting: 9/10 Versatile: 5/10 Original: 8/10

Such a peculiar brand, Zoologist; undoubtedly, each of their fragrances is transgressive, and this was no exception. What happens to me with this is particular: while I like risky perfumes, this one is impossible for me. It’s not a bad scent, quite the opposite—I apply it and can’t stop smelling it; it’s narcotic. But there’s no way to wear it; I can’t imagine going to a forest with this on. Yogi Bear would come out, and even the Atomic Ant. If I have to rate it, I’d give it a 9.something. Versatility is a 1, and the time to use it is at home (just a few drops) to smell it myself. I doubt anyone would want to walk around smelling like pure honeycomb, and I don’t think people around you would feel comfortable either. It’s a nuclear bomb in projection, flooding everything in its path, and as sweet as pure honey, sweetened with vanilla and tonka; the incense and sandalwood give it body and life of their own. It’s a perfume that doesn’t use you, you use it. Worth noting, besides being overly sweet, it has a completely sexual animalic base, another spice to make it more challenging. For people 100% confident in themselves, who don’t care about anything or anyone. In summary, from my perspective, it’s extraordinary, completely exquisite, a work of art, and a beautiful olfactory experience.

Bee is more than a perfume to wear; it’s an olfactory experience, very balsamic, so much so that it reminds me of a church selling aromatic bouquets. I liked it, and for now, I’m not taking it out of my collection. The scent comes out with super natural honey; in the development, it becomes very warm, where the flowers and broom stand out. The dry down is delicious; I left it on my scarf and loved the dry down scent: lots of honey with vanilla and flowers in the background.

Super original scent, smells like honey, beeswax, and butter. I absolutely love it; it’s very special, but I wouldn’t wear it myself—it feels more suited for a guy. I’d love to smell it on a man; being in his arms with that scent feels so comforting, so secure and warm. It smells like you’re falling for that guy because of his sweetness and the safety of his embrace. That’s my impression.

This perfume is gorgeous and comes with a long list of virtues. For me, it’s one of the most wearable Zoologist scents. It’s intense, sweet, balsamic, with an animal touch. It opens with heavy yellow flowers and pollen—lots of golden, even spicy (maybe?) pollen. Then it shifts to honeyed beeswax with a hint of incense and sandalwood. In the dry down, it’s more sweet wax, but softly talc-like and refined. I’ve seen people compare it to Kim Kardashian’s Pure Honey, and well… yeah, it has a vibe, but Kim’s version feels like the poor cousin, though it’s not bad. It’s very strong, so don’t over-spray, or you’ll be fogging everyone around. I’d recommend applying it half an hour before heading out so it settles. And please, don’t wear it to the countryside or garden, or bees will follow you. Intense projection for the first 3-4 hours, then moderate to low for the 12+ hours it lingers on the skin.

I really liked it. It doesn’t seem very versatile to me; it’s very unisex, but just not my style. However, it’s fascinating and smells very realistic as a beehive, leaning more toward wax than honey. As I said, I wouldn’t wear it because it doesn’t fit my style, but it’s one of those must-try, must-know fragrances. If you’re like me and enjoy wearing scents at home—spraying one on each hand, smelling the notes, putting them on blotters at my desk, and exploring new, rare scents—then most of the Zoologist collection earns a spot to regularly sniff these abstract creations. Now, it’s very versatile; a woman or a man could wear it as a signature or casual scent and make a great impression. I don’t know, it’s one of those fragrances you enjoy smelling on others.

I don’t recommend buying this blind. To be honest, I had high hopes. I saw reviews, including one from Abrildoesmakeup, and since we have very similar tastes, I decided to take the plunge. Now, during the hot sale… I have to say, it’s been my biggest disappointment. All my nose picks up is an intense sandalwood that lingers and eventually becomes overwhelming. I might give it another shot in colder weather rather than mild temperatures, but my advice is to buy a decant first. Seriously, this fragrance can be a surprise, just not a good one.

Coquita’s kindness allowed me to try this Bee, the 2020 finalist in the Academy of Art and Olfaction Awards—a great introduction. The first spray brings an inevitable smile of pleasure: you feel immersed in a spoonful of honey, but not the kind humans are used to. The accord is the secret of tiny bees working tirelessly: fruity-balsamic facets (concentrated orange and candied ginger) create a sparkling sound within the hive, suggesting the vibrant flutter of hundreds of wings. The scent is creamy yet dry at the same time, as if you could see the legs resting on wax-covered cells, imagining the consistency of rich, opulent, dense gold, but with a kaleidoscope of hard-to-decipher nuances: floral, delicately gourmand, spicy, and very fruity. One thing is certain: the soft bee-wax hammer of Bee puts you in a good mood. This fragrance has everything to bring a happy face: resinous warmth, beeswax, soft musk, floral sweetness, and vanilla balanced with a certain acidity. It’s extremely round and deep, like walking through a strange world. Beautiful. Much more than a perfume, Bee is a privileged and realistic vantage point into a dimension humans can only observe and study, but is difficult to understand. The Cristiano Canali fragrance is figurative, intelligent, and unconventional, demonstrating surprising mastery of difficult notes (the honey here isn’t urinous, and the beeswax is nowhere near sticky). It’s impeccably cut, deeply autonomous, very distinct from everyday scents, and definitely deserves a try.