La Belle et l’Ocelot

Tall rectangular frosted bottle, a striding wildcat (with magnificent whiskers) in clear bas-relief, with faceted cap and gold signature.

Fruity at first, an hour long, and loud, citrus and plummy osmanthus sharpened with witchy rose thorns. Slowly softens with jasmine and some smoky-sweet amber into personal space–up close it’s bright on cotton cuffs and syrupy on the skin–and lasts all day, fading to a dab of luxe benzoin on the wrist.

La Belle et l’Ocelot could almost be a Chanel, rich incense resins and balsamic roses (though there’s oddly no civet) if the wormwood at the top didn’t turn it weird.

I don’t love it–I’d prefer more purring and fewer claws–but there’s something intriguing about it, opulent yet off-kilter, and the bottle is an objet d’art.


Salvador Dali’s pet ocelot was named Babou. He never seemed happy in photos, aside from the one where he is biting the artist’s nose.


Purple mini bottle with a stack of lips à la Han-Solo-in-carbonite, on a detail of The Temptation of St. Anthony.

I love a good pun.
These Purple Lips open with juicy blueberries that would stain the teeth, and linger on violet and lilac flower candy that dye the tongue. Sheer woody musk on bottom keeps it in personal space for half the day.

But one could easily find this scent–though maybe not as cool a bottle–in a fast fashion chain for teens. I want more from the house of Salvador Dali.
Give me chessboards on the ocean floor. Give me ship sails made of butterflies.


The Cocteau Twins kept it surreal.

Dali Eau de Toilette

Starts juicy with sweet orange and neroli, then gets a little rosy before lying down with clean woodsy white musk. Lasts close to the skin for the morning.

It’s nice, but sadly not weird or innovative at all. I want more from the master of surrealism–give me swans reflecting elephants, or burning giraffes, or something cool.


“Love is surreal…”
(This is the best song off this album.)


lagunaBingo hall piña coladas.

Peppery amber ashtrays, coconut and pineapple daiquiri mix, sandalwood sawdust on the floor, and plastic flower musk underneath.

It’s kind of awesome in a retro chichi skirt way, though I was sort of hoping for some melting clocks, or waves that went on for eternity. Doesn’t last long, but finishes on a lovely patchouli tinged vanilla.

This song was also released in Spain in 1991– the title track of Vicente Amigo’s first album.