Salvador Dali pour Homme
Eau de Toilette, Salvador Dali (1987)

This was a blind buy, based on the reviews calling this dark, smoky, brooding, and a cross between Jacomo, Zino and Antaeus, all of which I really like. Perhaps it is because my bottle is a new release (March, 2026) from UAE, but this is nothing like those descriptions. There is an immediate hit of florals, with musk, sandalwood, patchouli and herbal notes. It is soft, a bit sweet, and could go unisex. Unlike the listed "similars", it doesn't project much at all, the wafts last about 4 hours, and this is perfect for an office environment. As it wears, the promised oakmoss, vetiver, smoke and leather never appear, and there is no animalic note at all.

While I am disappointed that this isn't what I expected, it is actually a nice fragrance in its own right. It reminds me of Chopard Musk Maleky. I don't usually like most floral accords, but this one is of high quality and somewhat unique. The whole affair is smooth, with the amber, musk and vanilla remaining while the herbals and florals diminish. At the 3 - 4 hour mark, it has leaned towards a oriental fougere, with an almost almond-vanilla accord and not a hint of bitterness or darkness. These observations have been consistent over several wears, but I will put this aside and re-test it after it gets a few months of oxidation.

This is for a vintage COFCI version.

Strong, dark, haunting, gothic: these are all adjectives that have been used to describe Salvador Dali Pour Homme. I am inclined to agree, but it's also worth noting where it lies in the timeline of masculine fragrances. It draws from the popularity of imposing animalic and stoic juggernauts like Kouros and Antaeus, but was also hot off the heels of Zino Davidoff, as evidenced by its abundance of lavender juxtaposed with patchouli. However, there is more that can be said with Salvador Dali, as it has both tarragon and anise quite forward in its composition, adding to this mysterious air. It's also worth noting that with the vintage, the heliotrope is more pronounced. If we consider anise and heliotrope combined, we can recall the melancholy classics that are Apres L'Ondee and L'Heure Bleue (one could suggest that Thierry Wasser was already highly inspired by Guerlain at the time). Thus we have that melancholy with a stark woodiness and animalic undercurrent.

Altogether, we have an impressive, moody aromatic that pulls no punches in its first few hours but also dries down to something quite introspective and gentle. I am almost inclined to dress in all black, listen to some Front 242 and smoke clove cigarettes. Salvador Dali Pour Homme is a mood I can sink my teeth into like Dracula.

A dark, dry-as-a-bone sandalwood, vanilla, and patchouli scent, with a slightly Gothic air thanks to its overall smoky feeling. Zino by way of Jacomo de Jacomo wouldn't be a bad description, though this is more polished than either. Wasser should be commended for the thoughtfully integrated touches (love the basil here).

This dark, herbal creation sits within the parameters of 1980s masculines well enough that it's sure to be familiar to anyone who has sampled the key masculine fragrances of that era, so don't expect anything from this that's as exuberant as Dali himself.

There is nothing Dracula about Salvador Dali pour Homme; The bottle is an interpretation of Dali's painting Aphrodite of Knidos ( a pronounced chin and a mouth ) and the juice is a woody floral chypre: sage, aniseed, lemon, cedar, geranium. Beautiful blend, masculine, fresh, and spicy with a little bit of darkness. A fragrance with a lot of personalities. The vintage formula has a more prominent oakmoss presence.

Blend Maxim's Pour Homme with Eucris, give it a lick of Castoreum tinted Vanilla, sly smokiness and you have something of Monolith-Gothic Sensuousness.
This has me in my Raven-ed Quattroporte, wearing my Jet Silk tailored, my Borelli Royal Burgundy 11.
Sliding down the Highway 10 clicks over with the Security Services monitoring above.
Lovely, Archaic Lestat-ness.

Salvador Dali pour Homme is a strangely seductive spell, one that is outlandishly playful, from its hypnagogic bottle to the rich, fullness of its composition. A disorienting beauty of dare, of floral temptation, of tasteful herbs, of murky depth, of superfluous care, Salvador Dali pour Homme wears like a dark barbershop fougère and a diffusively rich oriental, where a dominate lavender anise pairing, sooted in clary sage, basil, and tarragon, lightly soaked in citrus, ventures into the flower beds of lily of the valley and its poetic sweet, green dew, jasmine and its pungent urinous honey, geranium and its rosy, green patina, and heliotrope and its savoury powdery blush; that fluidly mesh as a warm, delicious funk emanating from a deeply creased love seat and a moist lipstick trace on a freshly laundered collar. Eventually all this action gives way to a loosened mossy belt of lichen, feverishly relenting to a base heavy, musky patchouli stroke and a vanilla finish; that altogether culminates as a tastefully tarry, chocolaty kiss wafting in creamy resins and a leather wink. The whole experience is otherworldly and beckons like a wanton pull between an incubus and a succubus in the hour of the wolf... Sweetly dark, sensually dank, and strictly decadent, Salvador Dali pour Homme is a paradoxical wonder of beauty in the beast/beast in the beauty that is surely rousing and luring as a forbidden kiss... Genius!