Toucan Zoologist 2026

decaying fruit scattered on the jungle floor - a hippie on vacation - papaya and lime sangria dusted with equatorial pollen - costa rica at the border of town and resort - grass skirts and loincloths - blinding bright orange - itzakadoozie - thick fog of tropical humidity - donkey kong's signature fragrance

you are walking through a tropical forest in the middle of the afternoon. the air is warm and humid, sunlight breaks trough the dense greenery, and everything around you feels intensely alive. there's a vibrant sweetness in the air almost playful and colorful, but beneath it lies a creamy warmth that gives the fragrance a surprisingly refined depth. it feels tropical without becoming the usual idea of a tropical holiday. toucan feels like discovering a hidden part of the rainforest where colour, fruit and greenery exist in complete abundance. bright, playful and full of life.

Zoologist Toucan:

You're on a rainforest expedition, looking for an illusive toucan. You seem to find one, but it rushes away. You pursuit. You run through rotten fruit, burst through a bush of long forgotten flowers, and you finally see where it was leading you. It leads you to a paradise where the sun always shines, and the birds always welcome you.

Toucan isn't what I expected, albeit, it left me pleasantly surprised. It leads with banana (not a listed note), papaya, and some light coconut. This fruit isn't from the store, nor a market, but found on the ground of a forest, left for the bugs. It then transitions into an odd fruity soapy floral, with ylang and geranium at the forefront. Give it some time, and it finally reaches its drydown. Sweet, warm, and full of life.

This takes the environment of a toucan, and translates it into a bottled fragrance, just like the rest of the house attempts to do.

Is it my favorite zoologist? No. Will I contemplate getting a bottle in the future? Absolutely. This stuff is so unique and addicting for me.

8.5/10.

In my former professional life, I was able to travel long-haul as an airliner at sometimes downright absurdly low prices - no one would believe it nowadays. For exactly EUR 1,000.00, I had booked twelve nights of 5*-all-inclusive accommodation on a small island near Tahiti, in the pre-season, of course. Though in terms of weather, there was hardly any significant difference. If you like spending 35-38 hours on the plane each way, with several stopovers, then you shouldn't pass up an opportunity like that. And if you only had to pay USD 500.00 for all those flight upgrades to seats farther forward, and got them completely free a few times, then so much the better. That at this price the hotel included not only still water, but also all wines and a generous selection of alcoholic cocktails at the pool bar was something I certainly didn't always get either. Certainly not anymore. Because I am no longer an airliner. And my Floating Peach Blossom is afraid of flying. I have crossed tropical holiday destinations off my list. But that's OK, I've already seen almost everything I ever wanted to see.

If, on the other hand, you look at a flacon from Zoologist, you see an animal counterfeit. It's usually rather amusing, even though I can't always connect every animal with its respective fragrance, and some animals are not as likeable to me as others. You can't always get inside their heads. The light-colored box is very stylish and suits the flacon well. I like the handy glass cylinder with its solid base, although I have to admit that I liked the old, angular flacons somewhat better. Be that as it may, beautiful is beautiful.

The first impression is wonderfully tropical too. Exotic fruits, ranging from tangy-fresh to aromatic-sweet, rounded off with coconut milk. Give me a straw instead of an atomizer and I'd want to take a really deep sip. Flowers soon join in as well: bright orange blossom and jasmine, along with a very rich, powerful ylang. I wouldn't have expected clove, but it fits the picture well. At some point, the sweet coconut transitions into equally sweet vanilla and tonka notes, which together with sandalwood form a soft, occasionally somewhat bitter bed.

So far, so fine. But something in this wonderful fruit cocktail creates a sour undertone on my skin. A nasty sour undertone. An undertone of stomach acid. Fortunately, I have no problems with reflux, and my gatekeeper is still doing his job well, but when you're sitting in the pool at the pool bar somewhere in the South Pacific, with air and water temperatures only just below your own body temperature, a gentle onshore breeze providing additional refreshment, an engaging, entertaining conversation distracting you, and a varied view of palm trees, beach, surf, a lightly clouded sky and the current colorful swimwear providing pleasant stimuli, you can easily forget to count your cocktails, especially when you don't have to pay for them. In reverently Catholic kneeling posture before the porcelain throne, you perform a full humble backward roll, and at such moments I praise the fact that my uvula is sensitive enough not to need much persuasion, allowing relief to arrive quickly and completely. These are moments I don't particularly celebrate. Because the taste of stomach acid, especially combined with sweet fruits, is not really my thing. It takes fairly extensive oral hygiene measures to return my papillae to a reasonably neutral state. I get this association of stomach acid together with yellow exotic fruits and coconut from this fragrance. The fruit acid doesn't produce that slightly metallic impression of stomach acid for me. I wasn't possessed of enough scientific curiosity to investigate it for hours, but I think that one of the flowers is responsible for conveying this sour, unpleasant impression to me. Nasty, unpleasant.

Had I not washed the fragrance off early for the reasons mentioned above, it would certainly have carried me clearly through the entire day, even in midsummer temperatures. As it is, I can still distinctly smell the clove and woods close to the skin on the following afternoon. So the fragrance projects well and lasts a long time, very respectable.

Cocktails are for everyone; they usually create positive holiday vibes and fond memories for both sexes. The same applies here. Don't let my isolated bad experiences spoil your mood. Toucan simply isn't a match for me and my disrupted neural associations from back then, in Tahiti. The only thing to do is test it ... and for me, make a counter-cocktail with watermelon, pineapple, orange, nectarine and whatever else I can find. Alcohol-free today. So it will probably be more of a smoothie. That suits me better too ...

Zoologist has once again created a truly brilliant fragrance.
You can smell the tropical heat, slightly spoiled fruit, somehow intoxicating; the scent is languid and develops throughout the day.
And there is this fluffy, soapy quality that I knew from burying my nose in my budgerigars' feathers.

The toucan is, however, a rather imposing animal, so there is also a good touch of animalic character. But it is a very wearable fragrance; for me, something clean and well-groomed mostly comes through. Definitely suitable for everyday wear. And the bottle is once again beautifully done.