Sloth by Zoologist Perfumes

Sloth opens sweet and fruity with chamomile, honey, and açai. Wendigo compares it to red wine, but I feel it more like a sweet red or cherry brandy. That sweetness mixes with something dirty and animalistic, which I think is the cumin. As it settles, the vegetal notes dominate: hay and very wet, earthy mushrooms. The lavender gives it an aftershave twist, making it more masculine. Many hours later, the resins appear soft, accompanying the forest scent without taking the spotlight. Projection is soft but lasts at least 12 hours on skin. It’s one of the most original and crazy perfumes I’ve tried. I see it as unisex, leaning masculine, for mid-season (especially autumn) and super casual; ideal for a weekend at home or family visits. It invites relaxation and laziness, just like the animal in the name. I loved trying it, even 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’m not sure which olfactory family to classify it in. It’s green, evoking wet forest vegetation, but it’s not a fougère despite the moss and lavender; nothing classic. In the opening, it hits with something falsely fruity, reminiscent of red wine. I suppose those are the açai berries, which I’ve never smelled before. Then the chamomile and anise appear so strongly it smells like an infusion. Undoubtedly, they represent the sloth’s worldview 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’ve never smelled anything like it. It smells like the sum of its notes, but also as if those notes have gone past their expiration date. There’s something fermented, like vegetables left in the heat. It would fit Orto Parisi if it weren’t for the fact that here the notes are less synthetic. As for occasions of use… well, I don’t know what to tell you. I only have a sample and don’t know if it will become a full bottle. But I can attest to my experience with unclassifiable scents: they serve whatever you want. They weren’t created to earn compliments or smell clean in the office; their purpose was simply art. And art doesn’t depend only on the creator, but on the receiver. You give it the other half of its soul. It will serve you for something no one else can use. That’s the best thing you can say about an author’s perfume.