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Là-Bas Régime des Fleurs 2021

7.5 / 10 15 Ratings

A popular perfume by Régime des Fleurs for men, released in 2021. The scent is floral-spicy. The longevity is above-average. It is still in production.
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Main accords

Floral

Spicy

Leathery

Smoky

Woody

Fragrance Pyramid

Top Notes

Pear

Red apple

Heart Notes

Patchouli

Bulgarian rose absolute

Lily of the valley

Turkish rose absolute

Base Notes

Castoreum

Leather

Oakmoss

Perfumer

Dominique Ropion

Ratings

Scent

7.515 Ratings

Longevity

8.012 Ratings

Sillage

7.312 Ratings

Bottle

8.012 Ratings

Submitted by Sniffer, last update on 05/27/2025.

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Reviews

2 in-depth fragrance descriptions

08/17/2024

4
Pricing 9
Bottle 6
Sillage 7
Longevity 7.5
Scent

Byrehoe
203 Reviews

Byrehoe

1

(actually) leather petals

An attractive, unisex Frankenstein’s creation of a flower. Honestly, I think the title “leather petals” suits this scent far better than LP itself. Carbonated smoke, lemon rind, and cool, waxy black leather. The top notes of lemon and rosemary reflexively make me think “grilled chicken,” but there is fortunately nothing bbq about La Bas. The closest scent cousin I can think of is Dries van Noten’s Voodoo Chile, which also does a sexy, inedible rosemary.

Mental Snapshot: Mad scientist in a leather lab coat. Impossible taxidermy animals, preserved in bell jars. Smoking roses clawing out of stainless-steel vases. And a damn good gin and tonic. Not your worst date.

tl;dr: leather petals

09/06/2022

Mlleghoul
455 Reviews

Mlleghoul

1

A profane scandal of a scent

Inspired by the Huysmans novel, and meant to transport the wearer to “Saint Sulpice church in Paris's 6th Arrondissement uprooted and transported to NYC's upper east side, ” I think I can...eventually... smell all of these inspirations in Là-Bas. However, this scent opens on a bit of an iffy note for me and it’s initially not what I expected: it’s a fruity rose that thinks pretty highly of itself and makes me think of Rita Skeeter’s platinum curls, bejeweled spectacles, and crimson nails. I don't love it at this stage. But in the blink of an eye, it becomes this profane, unholy fog of oakmoss, birch tar, musky leather, and smoky vanilla black mass of a thing, and it truly does conjure visions of disillusioned writers, gothic horror, and mystical murders. Imagine if Rita Skeeter unzipped her human suit and out stepped a glamorous, chain-smoking demon tabloid reporter who writes decadent, scandalous musings about all the astrologists, alchemists, fortune-tellers, mediums, faith healers, exorcisers, necromancers, wizards, and Satanists of the time. Gossip is the devil’s telephone and all that, and if this fiendish, fascinating fragrance is ringing, I am gonna take that call every time.