$275.00 USD

Jungle Jezebel by Sarah Baker Perfumes

  • Extrait de Parfum *(see manufacturer note below)*
    • From Sarah Baker:  *Extrait de parfum. Please note that every Artist Edition bottle of Jungle Jezebel is extrait de parfum even if the label states eau de parfum. Apologies—the labels were printed incorrectly.*
  • *Note:  Limited Edition Bottle only applies to the 50 mL bottle.  The sample vials and the 9 mL vials are not Limited Editions.

    Notes:  Orange, Banana, Grape, Peach, Bubble Gum, Rose, Tuberose, Ylang-Ylang, Amber, Sandalwood, Civet, Vetiver, Vanilla and Tonka Bean

    Nose: Miguel Matos

    From Sarah Baker Perfumes:

    "Inspired by cult performer and singer, Divine, this is a fragrance with real attitude. A heady mélange of tropical fruits. The exotic sweetness is balanced with far heavier, sexy tonalities that become more prominent as it dries down. The unique combinations are unexpected and make this a fragrance that stands apart, at once memorable and perhaps even a little shocking on first encounter. Yet, like its inspiration, the scandalous first impression reveals a craft that impresses and remains memorable. One for daring people who walk their own path.

    In three words: tropical, bouquet, provocative

    Artist's limited edition of only 250 bottles until this handmade edition of Jungle Jezebel is gone. Each bottle comes with a signed and numbered authenticity card.  

    Glass, perfume, plastic, synthetic hair & lashes, fabric, sequins, elastic, vinyl, and box."

    JUNGLE JEZEBEL

    "When they say she’s been around, they mean she’s really been around. As day falls to night on the docks—in Cartagena de Indias, Beira or Brest—the aroma of a fruit salad, export or import, lingers in the air and on her skin—grape, banana, peach and orange.

    She knows the places whatever the port; where the flickering red neon signs can’t quite make the effort… The promise of the night stretches out before her—rose, tuberose, ylang-ylang, amber and sandalwood. She keeps her true origins a secret to be discovered by fewer people than the fingers on a hand. She enters. The chanteuse croons, “Each man kills the thing he loves.” You said it, babe, she thinks. But first she has to find him.

    She descends to the basement. She feels the throb of the music before she arrives. Over one hundred and sixty beats per minute and that’s before she even gets to the base notes: vetiver, vanilla, tonka bean and, the real animal, civet. She commands the dancefloor with her high energy.  It can never last. He will be just another who hurts her and breaks her heart looking for his belle du jour. But for tonight, yet again, she can be divine."