Arabian Oud Kalemat Amber: Molten Magnificence

Posted on March 23, 2015 by Kafkaesque

Hubble Space Telescope photo. Source: abc.net.au

Rivers of honey, dark and raw, flow like molten lava from an exploding honey volcano, running along side river banks made from beefy, spicy, damask red roses that lie at the base of cedar trees. Swirling together like a force of nature, they eventually flow out to a calm, serene ocean of soft amber where there are waves of woodiness and undercurrents of toffee and cocoa.

This is not the tale of Arabian Oud‘s Kalemat, but of Kalemat Amber, its concentrated oil version that takes many of the same strands of the original but highlights different parts in different ways, all in a mix that is as rich and brightly golden as a supernova. It’s so intensely saturated and rich in feel that it blows the slightly similar Amber Oud extrait from Roja Dove out of the water. Kalemat Amber is utterly glorious, a fragrance was a real joy to wear, and one that any lover of the original Kalemat must try.

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Favorite Florals: Listed by Flower

Posted on September 20, 2014 by Kafkaesque

Source: designzzz.com

I’ve been thinking lately of the fragrances I enjoy within specific floral categories. It started, in part, because a friend of mine is slowly expanding beyond his comfort zone, and tipping his toe into a whole genre of fragrances that he had previously avoided. In general, though, I’m frequently asked, “what’s your favorite _____?” amongst the vast selection of rose, gardenia, orange blossom, and other florals out there. So, I thought I’d do a list, based primarily on one criteria: what I personally adore and reach for, own as a full bottle, or want to buy for myself. In several instances, however, I’ve included what I think is a good example of a fragrance within that floral genre, even if it doesn’t work for me personally.

Jasmine peacock created from jasmine flowers. Source: Hdwallpaperes.com

A peacock created from jasmine flowers. Source: Hdwallpaperes.com

As always, I have to emphasize that perfume reviewing is subjective and personal by its very nature, so winnowing fragrances down to a personal favorites list like this is even more so. A few other things to note: I’m not going to cover every possible category of floral (or else, this list would be endless), and, to the extent possible, I’m going to stick to soliflores (or fragrances centered predominantly around one flower). As a result, many scents that I love are omitted solely by virtue of being very mixed in focus. (For example, my beloved Alahine from Teo Cabanel; Puredistance‘s delicate Opardu; Amouage‘s stunning chypre-oriental hybrid, Fate Woman, or its Ubar, a larger-than-life, yellow and gold, 3D floriental powerhouse.) Also, I should emphasize that perfume lovers can be very fickle creatures. What I’ve listed is what comes to mind today, and it might not be the same next week or even next month.

Finally, because this is all so personal and subjective, there will be omissions from the list that might surprise people. For example, I simply do not think much of Portrait of a Lady or Carnal Flower, period. It is heresy, I know, but neither one impresses me, so I’m not including them in their respective categories of rose or tuberose. After all, this really is about what I like or think is good, right? Finally, the fragrances within each category are not ranked by order (so it mean nothing if a scent is put at #1 or #4), and I’ve also tried to avoid the vintage category wherever possible.

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Arabian Oud Ghroob, Woody & Misty Wood

Posted on May 19, 2014 by Kafkaesque

The Saudi-based perfume house of Arabian Oud is one of the most prolific brands in the region, but few of their fragrances are talked about in the West other than the lovely amber oriental, Kalemat. Today, I thought I’d take a look at three of their other creations: the floriental oud perfume oil, Ghroob (sometimes spelled as “Ghoroob“); the dry, spiced, rose-saffron-oud scent called Woody; and the warm, spiced, heavily ambered oud fragrance, Misty Wood.

GHROOB:

Source: Amazon.

Ghroob caught my attention when I was in Paris last year and had the opportunity to visit the Arabian Oud store. The main reason was that I had never before (or since) encountered such a powerful, potent and highly concentrated blast of orange blossom. I have a weakness for the flower, which assailed me right from the start, but Ghroob’s prettiness really lies in its subsequent stages.

Ghroob is not a perfume that you spray but, rather, is a concentrated perfume oil that you dab. Fragrantica says that its perfume pyramid is as follows:

Top notes are agarwood (oud), saffron, cinnamon, orange blossom, thyme and marjoram;
middle notes are bulgarian rose, jasmine, gardenia, palmarosa and geranium;
base notes are sandalwood, white amber, musk and vanilla.

Source: Amazon

However, according to the very kind gentleman at Arabian Oud London, Ahmed Chowdhury, who sent me my sample, Ghroob’s notes are quite different:

Top notes: Oud, Saffron, Cinnamon, Orange blossom
Heart notes: Jasmine, Gardenia, Bulgarian rose
Base notes: Sandalwood, White amber, Cambodian Oud, Musk.

Ghroob opens on my skin with very sweet, syrupy orange blossom that is infused with a black, indolic dirtiness on top and a touch of leatheriness underneath. It feels a little bit smoky, and, for a few minutes, almost verges on the camphorous in the way that very indolic flowers can sometimes be. At the same time, however, there is also a certain piquant greenness underlying Ghroob that feels almost as if the perfume contained a good dose of neroli as well. Neroli is merely another form of orange blossoms, resulting from a different method of distillation, so the overlap is not surprising.

Photo: onewomanshands.blogspot.com

There are other elements woven in as well. The undercurrent of greenness is supplemented by flecks of creamy gardenia that somehow manages to be clean, fresh, indolic, lush, and narcotic, all at the same time. Initially, the note is just a tiny hint in the background, one that is often lost in the sea of extremely intense, highly sweetened orange blossoms, but, as you will see, it becomes much more significant later. The green gardenia is accompanied by the lightest touch of sweet jasmine. The whole thing is lightly dusted with saffron, along with clean musk.

“Fractal Orange Blossoms”
by wolfepaw on Deviantart.com. (Website link embedded within photo.)

It’s a very intense bouquet at first, one that may easily seem screeching if you’re not a fan of Middle Eastern attars or concentrated orange blossoms. The latter are flowers in full bloom, almost verging on over-ripe at times, with an intense, heady voluptuousness. Their initial sweetness could have been toned down for my personal tastes, but I really like how brightness and almost smoky blackness are somehow juxtaposed at the same time. The undercurrent of greenness also helps to keep the orange blossoms wavering just before the border of excessive syrup, without actually falling over it.

Ghroob’s concentrated richness initially feels quite heavy, but the perfume is actually airier and lighter in weight than what you’d expect, at least once the first hour passes. As with many attars, Ghroob doesn’t have monumental projection, no matter how much of an orange blossom, floriental bomb it might be. Initially, 2 small smears create a cloud that hovers about 3 inches above my skin, but the number starts to drop with every passing half-hour.

Poster by Asia Jensen at Barewalls.com.

Ghroob slowly shifts. After 30 minutes, the bitter, neroli-like green note increases, cutting even further through the sweetness, and amplifying both the brightness and the freshness of the orange blossoms. Ghroob is not a photo-realistic orange blossom scent because of the other floral notes, the saffron, and the sweetness, but I find it quite lovely.

What is interesting is the slow movement away from an indolic scent towards one that is greener, fresher, cleaner, and more balanced. At the end of the first hour, the oud rises from the base but it, too, feels quite clean. It smells primarily of a slightly singed, general woodiness, and doesn’t have any of the medicinal, earthy, musky tonalities that agarwood can sometimes manifest.

By the 90-minute mark, soft, slightly creamy warmth begins to coat the orange blossoms, as amber rises from the base. The indolic overtones are now gone, replaced by a surprising greenness, almost like the sap from freshly crushed leaf stems, and an increasingly prominent green gardenia note. Ghroob is now a softer, very fresh blend of orange blossom and gardenia, infused with greenness, woodiness, and a subtle cleanness, all lightly wrapped in a sheer cocoon of abstract amber. It hovers just above the skin, and the sillage stays there for almost 8 more hours to come.

The gardenia and greenness eventually fade away, and the start of the 4th hour heralds a Ghroob that is primarily clean orange blossom with ambered oud and a touch of clean musk. There is a certain synthetic sharpness running through the scent, which doesn’t make me happy but it’s subtle enough that I don’t think a lot of people will notice. Slowly, slowly, other elements appear as well. There is a tiny touch of vanilla that stirs in the base, while a subtle spiciness hovers like a ghost at the edges, almost out of sight. It is suggestive of sweetened cinnamon with a tiny pinch of dry saffron.

Photo: My own.

Ghroob remains largely unchanged throughout its drydown. It’s a blur of sweet, slightly golden, soft orange blossoms and clean, dry oud, with amber, abstract spices, oud, creaminess and an undercurrent of cleanness. In its final moments, almost 15.5 hours from the start, Ghroob is a faint trace of vaguely clean sweetness.

There aren’t really proper blog reviews out there for Ghroob that I could share with you for comparative purposes. However, there are a number of positive comments left about the scent in my prior review of Arabian Oud’s lovely amber scent, Kalemat. The one person who didn’t like it was a chap who hated gardenia, and that seemed to be the dominant flower on his skin, not the orange blossoms.

On Fragrantica, Ghroob has received 4 reviews, and all 4 are positive raves that call it “beautiful,” “gorgeous,” and “wonderful.” Many note that it is not a heavy fragrance at all, though I do not think you should mistake their comments to mean that the scent is light and mild. It is most certainly not. On Amazon — the main place where Ghroob is available in the U.S. and where it retails for $69 — the perfume has five 5-star reviews, all highly positive. Some of the comments:

The most beautiful Oud Oil.. I adore it ! [¶] It’s not heavy or enormous Oud at all, it’s more on the side of (soft spice oriental Oud), the orange blossoms here are so pretty and makes the scent younger & more wearable for all ages, developed with the elegant saffron note.

Deep and complex aroma and very beautiful. Definitely, very beautiful … mysterious. Just one drop lasts the whole day.

Complex and deep, but not overpowering. Little bit strange at the beginning, you just need to wait for a half hour for the beauty to appear. After that soft silage and cloud of delicious smell for all day long.

I purchased this based on one review I read and it exceeded all my expectations. It’s warm, spicy, delicate, breezy and exotic all at the same time. Just a breath of oud and a luscious blend of florals I didn’t even think I’d like. It’s the warmth of it that’s so intoxicating. A little goes a long way. I’ve been wearing this alone and mixed with mukhallats and even western perfume and its always perfection. I work with a pregnant chick who has had terrible bouts of morning sickness and can’t stomach even the scent of soap. She’s been following me around for days telling me how it’s the best stuff she ever smelled and the only thing tht doesn’t make her diZzy. As for longevity, my skin drinks up fragrance but this stuff lingers! My days are 8am til 10pm most days and I still smell it when I come home. People at work commented at how they know I’ve been on the elevator or in a certain hallway. All in a good way bc even though this stuff lasts, it’s not heady or cloying, just regal. I love it and can’t wait for my next bottle! Way to go arabian oud. I have killian oud, Tom ford galore and various others but this is the one I keep turning to. It’s only 25 ml but a little goes a long way and for this price, its a steal. [Emphasis to other names added by me.]

If you love intense orange blossoms and floral orientals, then Ghroob is definitely one for you to try.

WOODY:

Source: Amazon.

Woody is a very traditional Middle Eastern fragrance that is initially centered on the conventional saffron-rose-oud combination before eventually turning into a dry, lightly sweetened, woody fragrance with some ambered warmth.

According to Arabian Oud on its Amazon website, Woody’s notes are simple:

Aged oud, rose, patchouli, dry amber and musk.

Woody opens on my skin with saffron, rose, and oud, infused heavily with very jammy, fruited patchouli. The heavy saffron touch smells fiery, dusty, buttery, and nutty, all at once. By its side is the velvety, rich, blood-red, fruit-chouli rose. Trailing behind, and not quite as dominant, is the oud which smells clean, slightly peppery, and musky. If you want my honest opinion, it smells rather synthetic. On occasion, it also has an odd undertone that smells a little bit sour and stale, thought it is a very minor, mute, and subtle aspect amidst the musky, earthy, and dry tonalities. In fact, the oud often appears in this opening stage as a mere suggestion amidst the velvety syrup, thick roses, and spices.

As a whole, Woody opens as a very spicy, sweet but dry, slightly dusty, somewhat peppered fragrance dominated primarily by a very velvety, syrupy fruitchouli-rose with saffron, then by the oud in second place. I realise that it seems rather like a contradiction to present something as simultaneously very dry but also very syrupy and sweet, but that’s how Woody opens on my skin. The thick saffron-patchouli-rose trio is not only bifurcated by that synthetic oud but, also, by a strong streak of general woody dryness running through the fragrance. Neither one changes Woody’s main focus on the spiced, jammy roses, but the elements are definitely there in the background.

Saffron threads. Photo: Tim Whittaker. Source: gourmet-delights.com

There are other notes lurking about as well. It feels as though a strong heaping of cardamom has also been sprinkled on top of everything. In the base, there is a softly ambered warmth. The latter is never profound enough to turn Woody into a truly ambered scent, though it does try its best a little later on in the perfume’s development. As a whole, Woody is strong in scent but light in weight, and has soft sillage. Three small smears amounting to one good spray yielded a soft, airy cloud that hovered only 2 inches above my skin. That figure dropped even further by the end of the first hour, leaving quite a discreet fragrance.

Slowly, the woody elements grow much stronger and eventually take over the scent. At the end of the 3rd hour, the oud becomes very prominent, while the saffron is now more muted, and the spiciness turns rather amorphous. The jammy, patchouli rose retreats to the sidelines. Woody is primarily a spicy, woody, oud fragrance with abstract spiciness and only a suggestion of rose. It has a subtle streak of smokiness running through the wood on top, and a balsamic, leathery feel to the base below.

Woody continues to turn more abstract. At the start of the 6th hour, it is a dry, slightly smoky, slightly sweet oud fragrance upon a warm, vaguely ambered base. The spices feel generalized and abstract, though hints of the saffron appear on occasion. There is now only a lingering trace of the rose. In contrast, though, Woody’s aromachemical sharpness remains, most noticeably evident in the dryness of the oud.

Photo: my own.

Woody stays largely unchanged for the next few hours. In its final moments, the perfume is a nebulous blur of dry woodiness with a vague suggestion of something sweet and golden mixed in. All in all, Woody lasted just over 10.75 hours on my perfume-consuming skin with 3 small smears.

I’m afraid Woody did nothing for me, but that is primarily for reasons of personal taste. As regular readers know, I’m really not one for rose scents, let alone jammy roses supplemented by fruit-chouli. I’m also really quite tired of the patchouli-rose-saffron-oud combination. So, for those reasons, plus the synthetics, Woody isn’t my personal cup of tea.

However, I know it is one of Arabian Oud’s most popular creations, and the combination it celebrates is a very traditional one — both in the Middle East and in modern Western niche perfumery. Woody is not a bad scent at all, though it obviously cannot replicate the quality level or smoothness of something like Roja Dove‘s Amber Aoud. Then again, it is hundreds of dollars cheaper at roughly $109 for a 100 ml bottle.

Just to be clear, please don’t think I’m saying that the two perfumes are identical. They aren’t, neither in quality nor in terms of their overall progression and their essence. Despite the jammy roses and saffron in its opening, Woody’s main core is centered on dry, sweet woodiness with oud. But I have to say, I did think of the Roja Dove scent on occasion — both when I tested Woody now, and back when I tested both fragrances in Paris last year. Even then, I thought of Amber Oud when sniffing Woody, though the main reason is that they both celebrate a very common theme (saffron-rose-patchouli-oud) with heavy richness.

Source: wallpaper-source.com

Woody has received generally positive comments on Fragrantica. People don’t consider it to be a masterpiece, but, then, it’s much too traditional and simple to be that. Instead, the majority of the reviews consider it to be a solid, lovely rose-oud-woody fragrance that is approachable, easy, and unisex. Some comment on the clean nature of the oud; others note that the sillage is soft while the longevity is good. It’s the same story on Woody’s Amazon page where the perfume has four 5-star reviews, and two 4-star ones.

A few of the Fragrantica assessments:

I’m in love with this oriental luxurious perfume.

An evocation of exuberance.The seductive interplay of two powerful ingredients,one from opulence,the precious oud,and one from beauty,the may rose note releases its majestic seduction.it scent envelop the skin in distinctive notes.WOODY manages to evoke the orient without having too many notes.simply wonderful, beautiful notes,perfectly charismatic,very oriental and classy.

I am a little disappointed. Woody is a nice woody scent (what a surprise 😀 ) but not FB worthy. It is quite expensive, but the sillage and longevity are maximum average, if not below average.

This is powerful fragrance worthy of Tom ford line.
Oud and amber are heavy
Musk in the middle
Excellent sill age
Longevity is better on clothes, but still great on skin
Would give other oud based fragrance makers a run for their money. [Emphasis to brand name added by me.]

Woody costs roughly $109 for a large 100 ml bottle, so its price is quite moderate, in my opinion, and definitely low by the skewed standards of niche perfumery. So, if you’re interested in a Middle Eastern woody fragrance with clean oud and rich roses, then this may be one for you to consider.

MISTY WOOD:

Source: Amazon.

Misty Wood is a much more ambered, warm, golden take on the woody oud genre. According to Arabian Oud London, its perfume pyramid is a very simple one:

Top: oud, amber;
Heart: Musk;
Base: Saffron.

Misty Wood opens on my skin with rich, intense, deep, smooth, red-gold saffron, trailed by oud and amber. There is a definite rose note, even if it is not included in Arabian Oud’s list. In fact, I smell such a distinct rose note that I have to wonder if that list is really complete. On my skin, the flower is initially more like a pale, pink rose than the more traditional, jammy, red version. Eventually, 20 minutes later, it slowly segues into the latter with its velvety richness, but, even then, the rose is never as profound a presence in Misty Wood as it is in Woody. As for the oud, it smells clean, and a little bit synthetic, though again much less so than in Woody.

Painting by EbiEmporium on Redbubble.

Another difference is that Misty Woody is substantially less dry than Woody. There is only a subtle, small streak of lightly peppered dryness here, but it feels almost as if cedar has been used. The real key here is the saffron and amber. One of those notes conveys an earthy muskiness that has almost a meatiness underlying it at times. Lest that comment alarm you, don’t worry, it’s subtle, and feels more like a great depth and chewiness, if that makes any sense. I can’t figure out if the earthy muskiness stems from the amber, or if the saffron is the cause. I suspect the amber is actually ambergris (whether real or otherwise), but, whatever the source, it adds a profound richness and warmth to the overall scent.

What I’m less enthused about is the streak of clean, white musk that underlies Misty Wood. It’s not something that I like in any fragrance, and I can be quite sensitive to the note in high doses. Here, Misty Wood just hovers on the border of headache territory for me, but thankfully never quite tips over. That said, I still am not very keen on the soapy nuance underlying the musk’s cleanness. (Yes, white musk is one of the banes of my perfume existence. I wish the bloody thing would be banned or DIE!)

Source: footage.shutterstock.com

As a whole, Misty Wood’s opening bouquet is a mix of very rich saffron, wood dryness, earthy muskiness, sweetened roses, and clean musk, all wrapped up in a very ambered, warm base.

Slowly, the perfume changes. Roughly 75 minutes into Misty Wood’s evolution, the mysterious rose note weakens, while the amber and earthy muskiness grow in strength. By the end of the 2nd hour, Misty Wood is a spiced amber oud fragrance with sweet, earthy, musky undertones and a whisper of clean musk. The spiciness begins to turn much more abstract now, though lingering traces of actual saffron remain. At the same time, the rose note vanishes completely.

The middle of the 4th hour brings more changes. Suddenly, there is a beautiful wood note that is incredibly creamy and rich. Thanks to the other, accompanying elements, it is spiced, sweet, musky, and a little bit smoky — almost as if it were red-gold Mysore sandalwood. The spiciness no longer smells like saffron, but something that is fully amorphous and generalized. The best part, though is the delicious warmth and ambered goldenness that now dominates the scent. It conjures up images of salty caramel drizzled over creamy, spiced, musky oud wood.

Source: footage.shutterstock.com

Misty Wood remains that way for a few more hours, changing only in its small nuances. On occasion, the oud smells harsher, drier, and more synthetic to my nose, but it is quite subtle. Plus, I’m much more sensitive to synthetics than other people. For the most part, Misty Wood continues to be a spicy, ambered, musky, woody fragrance with an occasional touch of cleanness. In its final moments, the perfume is a mere trace of ambered sweetness with a slightly clean vibe.

All in all, Misty Wood lasted just over 13.75 hours with 3 decent smears, amounting to one big perfume spray. The sillage was initially good, and the perfume wafted about 3 inches above the skin in an airy, but rich, cloud. It took a while for the numbers to drop. About 3.5 hours into its development, Misty Wood hovered half an inch above the skin and remained there until the end of the 7th hour. The perfume felt very sheer and gauzy at that point, but it was still easy to detect if you brought your arm to your nose. As a whole, the perfume has excellent longevity but generally soft sillage. You could definitely wear Misty Wood to most workplaces if you applied only a small quantity.

I couldn’t find any reviews for Misty Wood. There is one comment on the perfume’s Fragrantica listing, but it is a mere question which asks what the perfume smells like. There are no reviews on Misty Wood’s Amazon page, either.

ALL IN ALL:

Orange Blossom. Photo: GardenPictures via Zuoda.net

As a whole, I like Ghroob and Misty Wood. I’m very underwhelmed by Woody, but that is undoubtedly the result of my general issues with roses and jammy, purple patchouli. Misty Wood was quite a surprise to me, as I didn’t expect to enjoy it quite as much as I did. The amber note is truly the best part of the fragrance. I’ve always liked Ghroob, but I definitely think it gets better after the opening 30-minutes or first hour with its very saturated, rather sweet bouquet. Again, I cannot stress enough how intense and concentrated those orange blossoms are initially. One friend of mine who really loves Ghroob called the flowers “screechy” in the first 10 minutes, before they turned “beautiful” and “soft,” so I would advise you to give the scent time to develop.

All three scents are available in America via Arabian Oud’s Amazon site, as you will see in the Details section below. Ghroob is the only one which is an actual perfume oil that you dab on, while the rest are all atomized eau de parfum sprays. Ghroob costs roughly $69 for a 25 ml bottle, but a little goes a long way given its very concentrated nature. The other two scents are 100 ml and retail for $109 and $119, respectively. Shipping is extra, but a lesser combined rate is available if you purchase two products from Arabian Oud.

One small section of Arabian Oud’s Paris boutique. Photo: my own.

For those of you outside the U.S., it’s not quite as easy to obtain the fragrances. If you live in London, Paris, or parts of the Middle East (especially Dubai and Saudi Arabia), there is the option of one of the Arabian Oud boutiques. The company has a U.K. website, though I doubt they ship outside the country. I’m afraid I have no idea about the shipping policies of Arabian Oud’s main, Saudi website. The reputable Kuwaiti retailer, Universal Fragrances, carries a number of Arabian Oud fragrances and ships worldwide for a low price. Unfortunately, they only carry Woody out of the three scents in this review. I’m afraid your best bet will be eBay, as there are quite a few sellers who offer both Arabian Oud products and international shipping, though I haven’t found any who sell Misty Wood at the time of this review.

All in all, if you’re looking to explore Middle Eastern perfumery, you may want to consider some offerings from Arabian Oud. They are solid, traditional fragrances with very clean oud notes, generally good longevity, and great richness for a moderate price.

Disclosure: My samples of Ghroob and Misty Wood were kindly provided by Arabian Oud in London. That did not influence this review. I do not do paid reviews, and my opinions are my own. My sample of Woody was provided as a gift by a reader and friend.

DETAILS:

Cost & Availability: Ghroob is a concentrated perfume oil or attar that is available in a 25 ml dab bottle on Amazon (U.S.) for $69.99. Woody is a sprayable eau de parfum that comes in a 100 ml size and is sold on Amazon for $109.99. Misty Wood is sold on Amazon for $119.99 for a 100 ml spray bottle of eau de parfum. Shipping costs for each one is $16.48, but I know from personal experience that Arabian Oud combines shipment if two items are purchased, with a lesser price for shipping the second item. Another option is to buy Arabian Oud fragrances from Zahras. They have an extensive catalog of the brand’s fragrances, and I believe they also sell samples if you contact them. However, if you’re looking through Zahras’ catalog, please be warned that a good number of their perfume notes and descriptions seem to be incorrect. They frequently don’t match what Arabian Oud lists themselves for the notes. Outside of Zahras, you can turn to some international eBay sellers, especially for smaller sizes of Ghroob. Outside the U.S.: In the U.K., the UK Arabian Oud site has both Ghroob, and Woody currently on sale for £35 each, down from £70. There is no individual page for each, so you’ll have to do a word search by name. (If you go to the website, you may want to immediately mute the volume as the site plays annoyingly repetitive music incredibly loudly.) If you’re located outside of the United States and the U.K., you can also find Arabian Oud on eBay. All the Ghroob entries on eBay are shown here, and run roughly around $99, which is higher than that on Amazon. Under the name Ghoroob, I found a few entries in small decant sizes, including 3 ml for around $30. WOODY: For Woody, I found the perfume sold for $85 from a UAE vendor who ships internationally. One vendor in Saudi Arabia listed as Zahras is currently selling Woody for $99, and also ships worldwide. Another vendor in Kuwait has an eBay store is called Jawimall and carries a few Arabian Oud fragrances, so you are reading this review months from now, you can check to see if he has either Ghroob or Woody in stock. In the Middle East, there is also the original, non-UK Arabian Oud website which sells Ghroob for (Saudi Riyal) 320 SAR which seems to come to a little over $85 at the current currency conversion rates. Woody costs 250 SAR. I believe they ship internationally. Elsewhere, Kuwait’s Universal Perfumes sells a large number of Arabian Oud products, and they ship globally for a very low rate, but they only carry Woody out of the three fragrances in this review. It costs $89.99. MISTY WOOD: Outside the U.S., the perfume is available on the Arabian Oud London website where it is on sale for £60, down from £120. There is no direct link to the perfume’s specific page, so you’ll have to do a manual search as usual. The perfume is also available on the company’s original Saudi website, and an affiliated Saudi site. In the UAE, the perfume is sold at a number of Arabian Oud stores, but also at Souq.com. I couldn’t find any other vendors, I’m afraid, and none on eBay at this time. Samples: The Perfumed Court has a listing for Mukhalat Ghoroob perfume oil, but the notes given are extremely different. Either way, the price starts at $8 for a 1/2 ml vial. Woody is also available, starting at $7.99 for a 1 ml vial. The site does not carry Misty Wood.

Arabian Oud Sehr El Kalemat

Posted on December 17, 2013 by Kafkaesque

Source: Gamma Parfums, Russia.

Some perfumes are an immediate love affair, some are immediate hate, a few can result in total apathy or boredom, but many take a few tries for you to make up your mind. Personally, I tend to know what I like or don’t like pretty much right off the bat, but, occasionally, I’ll come across a perfume where I’m ambivalent and truly undecided, no matter how many times I test it. Sehr el Kalemat from Arabian Oud is one of those fragrances.

Sehr el Kalemat is a flanker to the popular Kalemat (sometimes written as Kalamet, with an “e,” and a few other linguistic variations). I love the original Kalemat, and it is only fragrance where I’ve urged people with a specific sort of perfume taste to buy a scent blindly. One of my readers, Feral Jasmine, purchased both Kalemat and its flanker, Sehr el Kalemat, and kindly offered me a sample. The caveat: I had to write honestly what I thought about it, without worrying about her feelings. I never have a problem being blunt or candid, but, in this case, I’m truly at a bit of a loss as to what I think. I’m at the end of my fourth test of Sehr el Kalemat, and I think the most accurate description of my reaction is that I’m underwhelmed. Torn, conflicted, but generally underwhelmed.

Before I get to the scent itself, I have to go through the confusing issue of its name. Like many Middle Eastern fragrances, the perfume has a few alternative spellings, such as Sehr Al Kalemat (on the official, Arabian Oud website), Seher Kalemat (on eBay), or Seher Al Kalemat (on some online retailers). Some perfumistas call it Kalemat Black, perhaps because of the black box, while a few on Basenotes get confused over how Kalemat Black is actually perhaps Kalemat White because of the silver-white plates on the side. I’m going to go with Sehr el Kalemat as it is easier to type, and that is how the fragrance is spelled on Arabian Oud’s Amazon listing.

As always with anything involving Arabian Oud, it’s an utter nightmare trying to get concrete, definitive, set details on the fragrance. Arabian Oud has no description for it on its official, Middle Eastern website. Its UK one doesn’t even list the perfume! The few other retailers that do offer Sehr el Kalemat have substantial differences in the notes that they include, and completely disagree with Arabian Oud about the bottle size.

The bottle as shown on Arabian Oud’s Amazon page.

According to Arabian Oud‘s Amazon listing, Sehr el Kalemat is either a 75 ml or a 100 bottle of eau de parfum with:

Top Note: Cardamom, bergamot, pink pepper Middle Note: Saffron, coriander, Bulgarian rose Base Note: Amber, vetiver and sandal 75 ml. [Emphasis added.]

However, a different page on Amazon from the same company states:

Between Patchouli flower, violet and bottom Albergmot wonderful mixed layer through a mixture of vanilla and touches of Oud eventually subside on the bottom of musk and amber luxury.

Meanwhile, a vendor site in South Africa, Fragrances Unlimited, writes what seems to be a slightly (slightly!) closer description of the fragrance that I experienced:

Following the success of the legendary perfume, Kalemat,comes Seher Al Kalemat, the name literally mean Magic of the Words, another designer outfit pairing black and silver. This new hit from Arabian Oud is an elegant fragrance recomposed around fruity aromatic facet & delicately oriental trail. Of the 3 original facets of Seher Al Kalemat (Fruity,Woody & Oreintal) the oriental one wins thanks to the Amber, musk and vanilla base note.

Top Note: Bergamot, Rose and Saffron

Heart Note: Patchouli, Sandalwood, Violets and Guaiac Wood

Base Note: Vanilla, Amber and Musk

Size: 100 ml

Type: Eau de Parfum

Between Arabian Oud’s hot mess of a website, the sizing differences, and the big variation in notes depending on site, I’m a bit frustrated, but I would say the notes that I personally detected are something more like this:

Spices, Berries, Patchouli, Rose, Saffron, Guaiac Wood, Incense-y tonalities, something almost oud-y, Vanilla, Amber, and Musk.

As mentioned above, I’ve tested Sehr el Kalemat a few times, using different quantities and amounts. For the most part, the fragrance is exactly the same, minus some minor variations on the opening with a lesser amount (2 sprays). I’ll give you the general development with a larger application of 4 small sprays.

Source: Dailykos.com

Sehr el Kalemat opens on my skin with peppered berries, saffron, and amorphous spices, though not cardamom or coriander, per se. It is followed by patchouli, honey, a dash of a rose note, and some abstract, amorphous, dry woodiness. The berry note is interesting because, to my nose, it smells identical to the blueberry purée that the original Kalemat opens with, along with the merest whiff of something verging on raspberry. I don’t know if the notes are the result of the very fruited, purple patchouli, of the “pink pepper” berries mentioned in one list, of both elements together, or something else entirely. To me, the opening smells like Kalemat’s “bilberry” or blueberry, and I’m a bit of a sucker for it. As a whole, Sehr el Kalemat’s overall, opening bouquet on my skin when smelled from afar is that of blueberries, patchouli, and saffron.

Saffron. Source: FoodandFarsi.com (Website link embedded within.)

All the other notes are folded within that main trio. There are hints of a dry smokiness underlying Sehr el Kalemat, but it never feels like actual frankincense. The rose is extremely muted at this stage, and so is the undercurrent of honey. The woodiness can’t be teased out as something individually distinct or specific at first. At no point, however, can I detect any violet whatsoever in Sehr el Kalemat’s development, nor any bergamot, vetiver, or sandalwood (real or otherwise).

What does appear instead, especially if a very small amount of Sehr el Kalemat is applied, is cocoa and an almost cold, metallic scratchiness. While cardamom (listed in one version of the perfume’s notes) can occasionally take on a cocoa powder nuance, I’m detecting something more genuinely chocolate-y in tone. The first time I tested Sehr el Kalemat and applied only a little, the bouquet after 15 minutes was of cocoa-dusted berries with saffron, vanilla, synthetic dryness, honeyed amber, slight smoke, and a faintly oud-y wood. The cocoa was a rich, almost buttery, thick chocolate with a nutty undertone that soon mixed with a very custardy vanilla in the base. I chalk the cocoa up to the patchouli, though the latter generally tended to be more fruited in nature on my skin than the darker, earthier variation of the note. Either way, the cocoa and vanilla accord only seems to appear in the opening phase if a small amount of Sehr el Kalemat is sprayed. Now, as I repeat often, my skin amplifies base elements and sweetness, so that is perhaps the cause, as Sehr el Kalemat is not generally a super-sweet (let alone a gourmand) fragrance for most of its life.

Wood and steel welding, via Wikitree and also jeanniejeannie.com.

The scratchy, dry, dusty, almost metallic, steeliness in Sehr el Kalemat is a given, no matter how much of the fragrance I applied. It always appears about 15-20 minutes into the fragrance’s development, transitioning it from a very berried, fruity, saffron, honeyed amber scent into something that is distinctly drier, sharper, and smokier. Sehr el Kalemat has a definite smoke element, but it never feels like pure frankincense to me, and really verges more on the dusty, dry, almost sharp aroma of something burnt in the outdoors. Yet, it’s not the full-on sharp intensity of cade nor birch tar’s campfire smoke, either.

Photo: Jo Van Damme on Flickr. (Website link embedded within photo..)

To me, it has the characteristics of guaiac wood: singed woods with an aroma like that of burnt leaves in a large autumnal bonfire. Something about it has a scratchy steeliness, which I realise makes no sense unless you’ve actually tried Sehr el Kalemat for yourself. The whole thing also feels rather synthetic in nature, if truth be told. It’s like guaiac wood’s dry smokiness on some sort of aromachemical steroids to make it extra arid, scratchy, and sharp.

What is disconcerting to me, and part of the reason why I’m so torn on Sehr el Kalemat, is that the steely burnt woods are simultaneously wrapped up with blueberry saffron compote, honeyed amber, and a touch of syrupy roses. It’s an oddly overwrought, jangling bouquet of opposites, as if Arabian Oud threw every contradictory thing that it had at the basic, original Kalemat structure. And yet… it grows on you. Sometimes. I think. Or perhaps not. Perhaps I’m merely oddly enraptured by blueberry-saffron-honey compote? Quite honestly, and in all candour, I don’t know what to make of it myself, or even how I feel most of the time about this very odd variation of Kalemat. Perhaps I merely like the parts of Sehr el Kalemat that resemble the original? One thing is definite though: I much prefer Kalemat to this flanker version.

Burnt Wood, via Docmattk on Flickr. (Website link embedded within photo.)

At the end of the first hour, the extremely dry, occasionally searing, burnt smoke vies with the fruited, saffron, patchouli, honeyed sweetness for dominance. A synthetic, sharp, but clean, oud aromachemical adds to the dusty, scratchy aridness of the top notes. The two together cut through a lot of Sehr el Kalemat’s jamminess, diffusing the sweetness. Underneath, far down in the base, there is the first real flicker of vanilla, but it too feels a little dry.

The change in sweetness accompanies a change in sillage and weight. Initially, Sehr el Kalemat is seriously forceful and intense in projection, though very light and sheer in weight. This isn’t a dense, opaque, molten fragrance by any means, but its notes are very powerful and Sehr el Kalemat wafts a good 6 inches off the skin in its opening minutes with 4 sprays. A smaller quantity yields a smaller cloud with about a 3 inch radius. Up close, however, Sehr el Kalemat is very powerful. As time passes, that scratchy, steely, synthetic, burnt guaiac note seems to grow in prominence even more when the fragrance is sniffed up closed. After 90 minutes, however, the dry woods cut through the heavy top notes of fruited, saffron sweetness to such an extent that the fragrance feels almost thin, weak, and light in comparison to the opening.

Wood and smoke casting. Source: www.jeanniejeannie.com –

For the next few hours, Sehr el Kalemat doesn’t change its primary focus in any major way. The notes described above vary in prominence and strength, but the fragrance’s core essence remains as berries, burnt woods, and sharp smoke, followed closely by synthetic oud, saffron, jammy roses, honeyed amber, and a touch of vanilla. There is the faintest, tiniest dusting of amorphous spices, though it doesn’t really smell like cardamom and it definitely doesn’t smell of coriander, as one list mentioned. It’s more like a flicker of something verging on chocolate powder, but it’s extremely muted.

Amouage Interlude Man. Source: Vogue.ru

By the start of the fourth hour, Sehr el Kalemat smells of a super dry, smoky, somewhat oud-y, burnt woods, followed by blueberry-honey that is lightly infused with saffron and amber. It hovers right on the skin, and feels very thin.

I think the sharpness of the dry, smoky woods give Sehr el Kalemat a far greater similarity to Amouage‘s Interlude Man than the original Kalemat ever had, though I think the nature of the smoke is different. In Interlude Man, as well as in the original Kalemat, the note smells more like actual, black frankincense. In Sehr el Kalemat, it’s like burnt trees and burning leaves in an outdoor fire. The note is thinner, drier, more scratchy and sharp, and much less smooth than it is in either Interlude or Kalemat. Plus, Sehr el Kalemat has much more fruitiness than the other two fragrances. In contrast, Interlude has a green, herbal component that isn’t evident on my skin with either Arabian Oud brother. That said, in terms of how dry smoke dominates a stage of the perfume’s development, I can see some parallels between Sehr el Kalemat and the much more expensive Amouage fragrance.

Source: middleearthadventurer.blogspot.com

Sehr el Kalemat’s smokiness finally recedes at the end of the 6th hour, as the vanilla appears to soften the fragrance and return it to greater warmth. The perfume is now an abstract, dry, woody fragrance with plummy or blueberry fruits, saffron, honeyed amber, and vanilla, all in a sheer, thin gauze that coats the skin.

Increasingly, the scent turns warm and sweet, until it is merely blueberry amber with honey and vanilla. The saffron, oud, and burnt guaiac dance all around, weaving in and out in the smallest of ways, but they are increasingly hard to detect in any individual, substantial way. Once the real drydown or end-phase begins, Sehr el Kalemat is nothing more than a blurry haze of honeyed sweetness with traces of vaguely fruity, musky, and incense-like elements hovering at the edges.

Stock footage via shutterstock.

Sehr el Kalemat’s longevity is fantastic. With four tiny squirts from the atomizer, the scent lasted just a fraction over 17.5 hours (!!!) on my perfume-consuming skin. I’ll give you a second to process that astonishing number. Yes, I didn’t quite believe it myself, and, truth be told, there were tiny, dime-sized spots on my skin that still had the faintest trace of honeyed sweetness even after that point. The sillage, in comparison, was generally moderate to low for about 13 of those hours. With a smaller dosage of two small sprays, Sehr el Kalemat’s longevity is naturally much less, but it still clocks it at over 13 hours on my nutty skin. The sillage, however, dropped to virtually nothing with that amount after 90 minutes.

There aren’t really any in-depth, detailed reviews for Sehr el Kalemat that I can provide for comparative purposes. The Fragrantica entry for the perfume doesn’t have a single comment in it. There is a Fragrantica thread asking for additional feedback after someone fell in love with the fragrance, but the poster doesn’t describe the scent. All that they say is: “I fell in love instantly as it struck me as a hybrid between Guerlain and Amouage creations.” She hasn’t had any replies.

I did find one very succinct, brief review for the scent under the name Arabian Oud Seher Al Kalemat (aka Kalemat Black) on Notable Scents. The review reads, in part, as follows:

* Kalemat Black starts off with sweet incense grounded with dry herbs.

* The projection is powerful and massive, this one is not for the meek of heart.

* A boozy vanilla joins the top notes and the three blend together seamlessly.

* As it begins to calm down (after 3-4 hours), the vanilla dries out as the oud starts to come in.

* The base is a mild oud, nothing too gamey or aggressive. A slightly sweet amber balances is out.

Kalemat Black is a modern-day powerhouse, lasting more than 24 hours on my skin. Even after showering, I could still smell the base notes on my skin. Though not office-friendly, its a really good fragrance for those who want an oud scent that is not medicinal or barnyard, but still referential to traditional Arabic perfumery.

The perfume’s Amazon page has two comments about the fragrance, but only one describes it:

Sehr el Kalemat starts out dry, austere, with something of the scent of a heated cast-iron skillet. At this stage it is very masculine. Over the next hour it evolves to a warm amber with dome fruit and spice, very different from Kalemat but equally unisex. At this point I love it on myself, so I spray an hour or so before work and let it evolve until it’s ready for the general public! But it smells good on men at every stage.

Sehr el Kalemat is slightly more expensive than the original Kalemat for American buyers. The fragrance comes in a 100 ml size (no matter what Arabian Oud may say about 75 ml on a portion of its Amazon description) and costs $89.99. Kalemat is priced in the U.S. at $59.99 price with a discount, though its retail price generally seems to be $99 worldwide.

I think Sehr el Kalemat might be a good choice for someone looking for an inexpensive, dry, woody, slightly masculine Middle Eastern fragrance that bears a microscopic similarity to Amouage’s costly Interlude Man. However, I must emphasize that I personally think the two fragrances are extremely different if you take out the smokiness issue. Interlude Man has a spectacular sandalwood drydown, for one thing, and an aggressive, sometimes difficult, pungently green, herbal start. It is also not a fragrance that I immediately think of as “fruited” or berried as one of its key, main characteristics. That element, however, is a definite part of Sehr el Kalemat on my skin. I also want to emphasize yet again that my skin amplifies base notes, and tends to increase sweeter elements in a fragrance. Those with a different skin chemistry may experience an even drier version of Sehr el Kalemat than I did, so please keep that in mind.

For me, personally, I prefer the original Kalemat. “Feral Jasmine” who sent me my sample says that Sehr el Kalemat grows on one. I can definitely see how it might, though I don’t think it will happen in my case. The things that I like about Sehr el Kalemat, I can simply get from Kalemat itself — and more of it, too. Plus, Kalemat has a lovely tobacco element that I can’t find here, the oud doesn’t smell sharply synthetic, and it doesn’t have that scratchy steeliness about the wood element. In Kalemat, it is dry cedar and frankincense, not burnt guaiac, which are at play, and that makes a difference for me personally. I think it’s also a substantially smoother fragrance that smells or feels more expensive in nature.

Ultimately though, as with everything related to perfumery, it’s a matter of personal tastes and style. I can see some men vastly preferring Sehr el Kalemat to Kalemat because of the significantly greater facade of dry, burnt smokiness, as well as the more noticeable oud element. I think most women (but not all) would have a much easier time with the original Kalemat, as it’s a warmer, more accessible, more inherently unisex fragrance. In all cases, however, if deeply dry, woody smokiness is your thing, you may want to give Sehr el Kalemat a try.

DETAILS:

Cost & Availability: Sehr el Kalemat is available on Amazon (U.S.) for $89.99 for a bottle that is either 100 ml or “75 ml”, with a shipping cost of $16.48. (Arabian Oud combines shipment if two items are purchased, with a lesser price for shipping the second item.) I think Arabian Oud has a typo with the smaller size listed in the description of the perfume’s notes, as all other vendors have the perfume listed as being 100 ml. Outside the U.S.: Whatever the size, if you’re located outside of the United States, you can also find the fragrance on eBay. One vendor in Kuwait is currently selling the fragrance for $95, and ships worldwide. His eBay store is called Jawimall and carries a few Arabian Oud fragrances, so you are reading this review months from now, you can check to see if he has Sehr el Kalemat in stock. There is also the original, non-UK Arabian Oud website which sells it for (Saudi Riyal) 440 SAR which seems to come to a little over $117 or €85 at the current currency conversion rates. I believe they ship internationally. I don’t find the perfume listed anywhere on the UK Arabian Oud site, and I went through every section. (If you check there, you may want to immediately mute the volume on the site as it plays annoyingly repetitive music incredibly loudly.) Sehr el Kalemat is also not listed anywhere on the Zahras catalog for Arabian Oud. If you ever use the Zahra site, be warned that almost all their perfume notes and descriptions seem to be incorrect. Elsewhere, the fragrance is sold under the name Seher Al Kalemat by Kuwait’s Universal Perfumes in the 100 ml bottle for $115.99, and they ship worldwide. In South Africa, I found the fragrance sold under the same name at Fragrances Unlimited in a 100 ml bottle. Sehr el Kalemat is sold by a ton of Russian online sites, one of which is Gamma Parfum. Samples: I obtained my sample from a reader of the blog. I could not find a single place that sold samples of Sehr el Kalemat, although I know The Perfume Court has a few others from the line, like the fragrance oils. However, it does not have the Sehr.