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.

Reviews En Bref: Tola Misqaal & Masha

Posted on May 3, 2014 by Kafkaesque

Dhaher bin Daher of Tola. Source; Fragrantica.

Tola (sometimes written as “Tola Perfume“) is a new fragrance house from Dubai. It was founded in 2013 by Dhaher bin Dhaher, who is also the nose behind its creations. He is a self-taught perfumer who grew up around perfumes, and whose story is told in a detailed Fragrantica article about the line. The house’s name, “tola,” refers to an ancient Indian measurement unit which predates the metric system.

Tola’s line is centered around The Voyage Collection, which is comprised of six fragrances, each of which is available either in eau de parfum or pure parfum concentration. The fragrances have been available in Europe for a while, but only recently came to Luckyscent and Osswald in America. Today, I’ll look at Misqaal and Masha, both in eau de parfum form.

MISQAAL:

Misqaal. Source: Luckyscent.

The company’s description of Misqaal on various perfume sites reads as follows:

Misqaal eau de parfum is a fragrance for the enigmatic woman…At the crossroads of Europe and Asia, an artisan puts the finishing touches on his masterpiece: a perfume for her royal highness, an enigmatic woman who exudes equal amounts of charm and femininity with just a hint of danger. To retain the scent’s exceptionality, the artisan produces only one Misqaal (an ancient unit of measure reserved for gold and expensive spices), and this becomes the most coveted object in the palace…Misqaal was crafted by modern day artisans to recreate the essence of the fabled princess in this tale from the Orient.

Top notes: pineapple, plum, raspberry, grapefruit, mandarin orange, bergamot, lemon, pink pepper, nutmeg, star anise, coriander, honey and fir;
Middle notes: juniper, cinnamon, wormwood, geranium, heliotrope, lily-of-the-valley, jasmine, rose, orris, french orange flower and orchid;
Base notes: vetiver, sandalwood, patchouli, agarwood (oud), cypriol oil or nagarmotha, incense, labdanum, siam benzoin, tonka bean, vanilla, white musk, castoreum, leather and ambergris.

Source: Wallpaperscraft.com

I’ll be blunt: Misqaal traumatized me. I felt as if I’d been knocked over by a gigantic tank, squashing me under heavy treads of sweetness and fruity excess. I love rich heavy perfumes, but they need a refined touch, not a heavy hand that throws the kitchen sink at you. And, in case the long list of notes did not make it clear, the kitchen sink seems to be very much a part of the Tola DNA.

Misqaal on my skin was primarily a massive, heavy, unchanging, indiscriminate ooze of cloying, fruited sweetness. The first night I tried it, tiny spritzes equal to 2 small sprays from a proper bottle gave me actual stomach-churning nausea. At one point, I even hid my arm under my pillow in order to escape from the scent, hoping desperately that time would ameliorate the situation. Alas, there was no refuge, not for many hours. I was hit by wave after wave of heavy-handed, potent, super-charged excess, pulsating like a weapon at me. Even through the bloody pillow, it seemed. There are no words to describe the degree of my queasiness and dread.

Source: superbwallpapers.com

Misqaal’s opening bouquet assailed me with what seemed to be 40% of that massive note list, all at once, and all at super concentrated levels. In reality, it was primarily just shrill, shrieking orange blossom, sticky orange, heavy honey, and a synthetic, sharp, thin oud. It was hard to distinguish some of Misqaal’s layers because this is not a fragrance with nuance or subtlety. If I focused hard, I could just about pick out tiny hints of lily of the valley, jasmine, rose, raspberry and hints of sandalwood amplified with spices and incense. There was a suggestion of powderiness from tonka and heliotrope, but they were largely overwhelmed by the torrent of honeyed stickiness.

Orange blossoms via the Pattersonfoundation.org.

In any event, the muted, minimal nuances soon disappear, leaving a cloying ball of opaque, dense, painfully sweetened goo centered primarily on orange blossom, honey, orange and that synthetic oud. Misqaal remained that way for hours, turning into a skin scent after 6.5 hours with 3 tiny sprays from my atomizer, and after 4 hours with 2 small spritzes.

The amber rises to the surface at the start of the 4th hour, and the perfume turns more abstract. Misqaal is now an overly sweet, slightly synthetic fruity floral with ambered warmth, sticky honey, and vanilla. There is a custardy richness which becomes more apparent as time passes, but it’s genuinely difficult for me to smell Misqaal up close for too long lest my stomach turn. In its final moments, Misqaal is blur of fruity floral sweetness with vanilla and amber. All in all, it lasted roughly 14 hours.

Misqaal is linear, dense, cloying and heavy-handed, in my opinion. Middle Eastern fragrances are frequently very sweet, but excessive honeyed syrupness is not my only problem with the scent. I find it to lack finesse and elegance. However, people who love gourmand fruity-florals may enjoy it, particularly if they love both sticky oranges and orange blossoms.

MASHA:

Masha. Source: Luckyscent.

The company’s description of Masha on various perfume sites reads as follows:

Masha eau de parfum with its sensual allure, embodies feminine charisma… Complex, worldly intensely feminine. These words form the common thread that binds his poems togerther. She is a complete mystery and yet she dwells within his deepest thoughts. If he could weigh all he knows of her, it would be one Masha; a small unit reserved for measuring the most rare and precious things. Yet he yearns to know more, to know everything. Masha combines warm woody notes with the intriguing allure of chypre and the femininity of luxurious flowers to capture the very essence of the modern woman.

Top notes: peach, pineapple, plum, strawberry, raspberry, apple, grapefruit, orange, lemon, bergamot, lime, pink pepper, black pepper and birch;
Middle notes: artemisia, coffee, cardamom, cinnamon, clove, lily-of-the-valley, rose, orris, jasmine and magnolia;
Base notes: leather, agarwood (oud), vetiver, sandalwood, patchouli, cedar, olibanum, labdanum, civet, castoreum, tonka bean and vanilla.

I found Masha to be a little better than Misqaal, though it’s all relative. At least Masha didn’t push me to hide my arm under a thick pillow at one point. The fact that Masha isn’t loathsomely sweet is primarily the reason why, and not much else.

Source: 123rf.com

Masha presented a different set of difficulties. The perfume has 36 notes, and it felt as though at least 23 of them hit me at once. Oddly, one of the main things I smelled is not actually on the list: immortelle. For whatever reason, some combination of the notes recreated the smell of immortelle, but not its more pleasant aspect. Instead, I was hit with curry, banana leaf, and a touch of maple syrup-like sweetness. It was followed by a synthetic oud, a hefty amount of cardamom, then cloves, patchouli, incense, spices, pepper, abstract mixed fruits, herbal artemisia with a dill-like aroma, roses, hints of plum, vanilla, vetiver, fresh apple, and coffee. No, I’m not joking. Misqaal throws everything at you at once, then follows it up with several plates of food from an Indian restaurant as well.

Source: wallpaperswide.com

I’m a bit of a masochist, so I actually tested Masha twice. Interestingly, at a higher dose, there was a significantly greater amount of apple and coffee. Alas, the banana leaf curry reappeared yet again. This time, however, there were fewer fruits, less cloves, very little patchouli, no dill, no vetiver, and no rose. The primary focus in both versions however is the spices.

Source: atyabtabkha.3a2ilati.com

At the end of 3 hours, Masha consistently turns into a curried immortelle scent infused with synthetic oud, labdanum, amber, and cardamom. The apple and coffee are much more subtle now, thank God. Stirring in the base is a slightly powdered note, and a soft, ambered warmth that increasingly takes on a caramel tonality. I cannot tell you the oddness of smelling like Indian curry with bright green apples, coffee, and caramel. It is only Masha’s vague dryness that prevented my stomach from turning.

Photo: Mike Wepplo at mikewepplo.com

Masha turns into a skin scent on me at the start of the 4th hour with 2 spritzes from my atomizer. It is a blur of spices, curried notes, synthetic oud, amber with caramel tonalities, abstract dry woodiness, and a touch of pepperiness. It takes on a vague aura of clean freshness from the musk, which merely adds to the disconcerting nature of the bouquet.

I’ll be honest, I wasn’t inspired to smell Masha with great frequency and depth. My normal practice is to take stock of a perfume’s development every 30 minutes after the midway point, if not more often. With Masha, not only was I unenthused to do so, but nothing in the first 5 hours gave any indication that the perfume was shifting or changing radically. Whenever I did smell it, Masha continued to be the same linear bouquet with only fluctuating levels of curried tonalities and small shifts in the ambered base.

By the start of the 9th hour, Masha was merely a blur of spiced, ambered woodiness, with dryness, sweetness, and a touch of grainy powderiness. The curried banana leaf-like accord was the most noticeably distinct, individual element, but, eventually, even that faded away. In its final moments, Masha was a whisper of vaguely woody, spiced amber. All in all, it consistently lasted over 12.5 hours.

ALL IN ALL:

For my Reviews en Bref, I don’t give comparative assessments from other bloggers or sites, but I’ll point you to the Fragrantica piece on the Tola line if you’re interested. It has one chap’s short take on each of the fragrances, including Misqaal or Masha.

Needless to say, I was not enthused. My experiences with the two fragrances can essentially be summarized as “traumatizing,” and “not traumatic, but very far from enjoyable.” I can see why someone who loves intensely concentrated, dense, fruity-florals with sweetness might possibly like Misqaal, but Masha is a mish-mash of too many discordant things.

In a way, that almost makes it worse. At least Misqaal can be seen as a rich, dense, honeyed orange blossom scent, even if the richness goes far into “suffocating” and “nausea” territory. Misha, however… Misha leaves me almost at a loss for words in terms of its notes. It is a lack of finesse of a completely different kind. There is almost a giddiness at how the numerous — and frequently discordant — elements are all tossed together, willy nilly, as if to see how many unusual things can be mixed together in one heavily spiced concoction.

I’m quite familiar with Middle Eastern perfumery, and have lived in the region myself in my travels, so that’s not the problem. It’s not as though Middle Eastern perfumery is foreign to me, and I “don’t get it.” No, I simply don’t think that really good Middle Eastern fragrances are such an unrestrained hodge-podge or so wildly unbalanced. In the case of Misha and Misqaal, they may feel rich due to their denseness and heaviness, but their actual bouquet isn’t at all refined. And, for $285 or €225 for a tiny 45 ml bottle, they should be.

I have samples of all six Tola fragrances, but this initial foray hasn’t inspired much confidence in me to pursue them with great urgency. Judging by Fragrantica’s overall Tola page, and looking at the remaining fragrances individually, several seem to be “fruity florals,” which is not exactly my favorite category of fragrances in the world. And they all have a huge laundry list of notes beginning with a lot of fruit, just like Masha and Misqaal. I confess to now feeling great dread at the look of them, whereas once there was enormous excitement at the line. So, if there is one that you’re particularly interested in, let me know and I’ll try to cover it sooner rather than later. Otherwise, it may indeed be “later.”

Disclosure: Perfume sample courtesy of Osswald NY. That did not influence this review. I do not do paid reviews, and my opinions are my own.

DETAILS:

Cost & Availability: Misqaal and Misha are both eau de parfums. They come only in a 45 ml bottle that costs $285, €225, or £198. Extrait versions are available, though not on most Western retail sites. In the U.S.: Tola fragrances are available at Luckyscent and Osswald NY. Luckyscent used to have a sample discovery pack for the full line, but I no longer see it on their website. Outside the U.S.: Currently, the Tola website is under construction, and doesn’t have an e-store. In the U.K, Tola is available at Selfridges. In Paris, you can find the line at Nose. For the rest of Europe, you can turn to First in Fragrance which ships worldwide. In Dubai, Tola is available at Villa 515, Beach Road, or Le Jardin des Parfums, Abu Dhabi Mall. Samples: None of the U.S. sample sites currently carry this fragrance, but Luckyscent and Osswald NYC both sell samples at different prices.

Stéphane Humbert Lucas 777 2022 Generation Homme and Femme

Posted on April 23, 2014 by Kafkaesque

Source: Stéphane Humbert Lucas.

The Stéphane Humbert Lucas 777 line has two fragrances called 2022 Generation, one for men and one for women. Both are largely unisex fragrances that were released in 2013 and are pure parfum extraits in concentration, but they have very different profiles. I had very mixed reactions to these two fragrances, but neither one evoked any sense of place, any story, or any imagery in my mind. Nothing at all, in fact, which says something in and of itself. So, we’ll get right to it.

2022 GENERATION HOMME:

2022 Generation Homme is a perfume extrait with 24% concentration, and is described in the press materials I received as follows:

Powdery mist of agarwood
Dry and Distinguished Oud, vertical opus.

Top: Yuzu zest – Blackcurrant – Mint
Middle: Cambodian Oud
Base: Precious Oud – Spices – Balsamic Notes.

Blackcurrant or cassis. Source: The Perfume Shrine.

2022 Generation Homme opens on my skin with a powerful wave of ISO E Super, followed by a crisp, chilly, leafy greenness that is a mix of the yuzu and mint. Subtle hints of tart, tangy, juicy cassis (or blackcurrant) dance at the edges. A warm, caramel-like sweetness fills the base, followed by a creamy woodiness and a sprinkling of cardamom. The overall impression is of intense ISO E Super with creamy caramel sweetness and abstract woods. It is a very airy, light, summery bouquet with initially moderate sillage of about 2-3 inches from 3 small atomizer spritzes.

ISO E Super. Source: Fragrantica

Regular readers know my feelings about ISO E Super. I despise it. I can put up with small quantities, especially if a fragrance has a plethora of other notes, but I become extremely irritated if a scent has a lot of the chemical. Some people enjoy ISO E Super, and a few find it to be a pheromone, while others are lucky enough not to be able to detect it at all. I don’t fall into any of those categories, and my nose is extremely sensitive to the aroma. But I’ll still grit my teeth and bear it if the ISO E Super manifests itself as a mere “woody buzz” (as Luca Turin once described it) or as mere pepperiness. However, I become positively livid when it wafts antiseptic or rubbing alcohol odors. I don’t buy expensive perfume to smell like a visit to a hospital where a doctor has disinfected my arm before giving me an injection. And I cannot bear it when that particular aroma hits me in massive quantities. Like here.

Source: drugs.com

2022 Generation Homme smells like rubbing alcohol and antiseptic on my skin. It’s sharp, chemical, and slightly peppered. It also seems to grow stronger with every passing minute, far outweighing the crisp, fresh notes. The latter all seem to blend into an abstract, amorphous haze of greenness, only occasionally accentuated by a clear burst of cassis. Or perhaps the problem is that there is so much of the damn, bloody chemical emanating from my skin that it’s hard for me to detect 2022 Generation Homme’s nuances behind the solid, brick wall of astringent mixed with caramel sweetness. It’s an odd mix, which renders me even more unenthusiastic about the fragrance.

Source: fantom-xp.com

If I focus really hard on everything but the damn ISO E, I can genuinely appreciate the creamy woodiness of the base, though it never once translates to my nose as actual Mysore, no matter what the notes may say. Generation Homme feels simultaneously both fresh and clean, as well as creamy, woody, and sweet. The mint and yuzu are quite abstract on my skin, lacking clear delineation, but they melt into the white musk in the base to create a definite sense of freshness. Their airy crispness lies in sharp contrast to the sense of a thick caramel creaminess mixed with dusty, exotic cardamom. Honestly, I find it to be a discordant mix. It’s like two different, non-matching perfumes have been melded together with a bridge of ISO E Supercrappy.

Source: layoutsparks.com

Generation Homme is said to contain two different sorts of oud. On my skin, a vague sense of some wooded smokiness appears at the end of the first hour, but I never smell “the noble rot” as agarwood is sometimes called. As with all the SHL 777 line, the oud that Monsieur Lucas uses never smells like the kind in Amouage, Montale, or Xerjoff fragrances. It is merely slightly smoky with a subtle muskiness and a tinge of sweetness. In any event, it takes less than 20 minutes for the oud to fade into Generation Homme’s base dominated by that caramel sweetness and the abstract, wooded creaminess.

I tried to tolerate 2022 Generation Homme, I really did. Regular readers know that I will put up with a lot of fragrances that are difficult, challenging, or unpleasant, including those with ISO E Super. I couldn’t do it in this case. The first time I tried 2022 Generation Homme, I lasted 2 hours before I scrubbed it off. The second time, I endured exactly 3 hours and 15 minutes before I couldn’t bear it any more.

The problem is that the ISO E Super simply becomes stronger and stronger on my skin. At the start of the second hour, it completely takes over, and Generation Homme is wafting roughly 70% rubbing alcohol antiseptic on my arm and 30% caramel, creamy woods. By the time the 3rd hour rolled around, it was 85% ISO E Super — and the number seemed to be climbing. It is undoubtedly an issue of my skin chemistry and how it reacts to aroma-chemicals in really large doses, so perhaps the rest of you will be luckier. But life is too short for me to put up with misery for the sake of a thorough review. 2022 Generation Homme is a complete scrubber for me, and a massive disappointment from a line that I had liked because it felt refined and wasn’t replete with aromachemicals.

Source: Stéphane Humbert Lucas.

The price does not make any of this more palatable. 2022 Homme retails for €235 for a small 50 ml bottle. I don’t know what the U.S. amount will be, but, whatever it is, it’s going to be too high for a scent with a largely generic, designer, mainstream profile of crisp, clean, woody musks with sweetness and a walloping amount of ISO E chemicals. The refined luxuriousness and elegance of the other SHL 777 fragrances — like the Khol de Bahrein iris-heliotrope-amber that initially caught my attention and made me pay heed to the line — is missing from 2022 Generation Homme. To someone who can’t detect ISO E Super, I’m sure it will come across as an approachable, simple, nice, easy fragrance that may be great for summer months. Perhaps, but that doesn’t mean that Generation Homme is original, interesting or even particularly niche in feel. And I personally do not want to spend €235 for a designer-like, mainstream scent with a generic profile.

I’m becoming more peevish and irritated with every word I write about 2022 Generation Homme, so let’s just get to the next one.

2022 GENERATION FEMME:

Let me start by saying that 2022 Generation Femme is better. Significantly better. In fact, it has some very enjoyable bits, though the scent is still largely unoriginal and with a designer feel, in my opinion.

Source: Stéphane Humbert Lucas.

Like its male counterpart, 2022 Generation Femme is an extrait de parfum with 24% concentration and was released in 2013. The press release documents that I received describe the fragrance and its notes as follows:

Sandalwood and crystallized almonds
Iridescent Perfume dedicated to sensual and artful women…

Top: Imperial Almonds – Neroli – Nectarine
Middle: Heliotrope – White Tea – Galbanum
Base: Black Jasmine – Sandalwood from Mysore – Tonka Beans

Petitgrain art, “Young at Heart” via aromatherapy4soul.com –

2022 Generation Femme opens on my skin with sharp, pungent, intensely green notes of bitter neroli and galbanum, infused by equally bitter raw almonds and petitgrain. The notes may not mention it, but I definitely smell petitgrain and its particular form of woodiness. At the edges of 2022 Generation Femme, there is a touch of heliotrope which smells very floral, and is initially far from its usual sweetened, vanillic, meringue powder. The image of greenness and pungency — so well underscored by the galbanum — is countered by subtle flickers of sweet jasmine, but they are very subtle.

From afar, 2022 Generation Femme’s main opening bouquet on my skin is of an extremely bright, potent neroli scent with petitgrain. The perfume has a very retro feel to it, like something that I’ve smelled before, though I can’t place where. One of the blog’s readers, “Taleb,” wrote in a comment that he found 2022 Generation Femme to be similar to Cartier‘s Le Must de Cartier. It’s been years since I smelled the latter and, despite having a relatively good olfactory memory, all I can recall is of a crisp cleanness with white musk. The fact that Le Must left no impression on me says something, but the bottom line is that I can’t tell you if 2022 Generation Femme is similar or not. All I can say is that the perfume feels retro, and not strikingly different from some mainstream scents.

Abstract Green Fantasy by Bruno Paolo Benedetti. Source: imagesinactions.photoshelter.com (Website link embedded within.)

2022 Generation Femme slowly shifts. The almonds retreat to the background after 5 minutes, while a clean, white musk stirs in the base alongside a touch of creamy, initially greenish (non-Mysore) sandalwood. The neroli and petitgrain grow stronger, while the galbanum adds a touch of herbal pungency. I don’t detect any tea or tonka, and the jasmine’s syrupy sweetness is extremely minor. As a whole, Generation Femme is a very airy, crisp bouquet that feels almost chypre-like with its greenness. Three small sprays create a tiny cloud of roughly 2-3 inches at first, though the sillage drops to about an inch above the skin after 90 minutes.

Source: hatdieungon.vn

It takes a little bit of time for 2022 Generation Femme to stop being primarily neroli and petitgrain in focus. The almond reappears at the end of the first hour, though it is subtle and quite muted at first. It now smells like the hard-shelled, vanilla-coated, European sweets that you see at Italian weddings called “Confetti” (or “Jordan almonds” in America), but the aroma is still overshadowed by the neroli and petitgrain. 2022 Femme only changes around the 90-minute mark, when the heliotrope and tonka fully rise up to the surface, softening the pungent, woody-citrus duet and providing a lovely, thin dusting of almond vanilla and heliotrope sweetness.

Meringues via motherearthnews.com

As some of the regular readers know, I’m a sucker for heliotrope’s soft serenity and comforting delicacy, so it’s definitely my favorite part of the scent. I’m even happier when it becomes a more prominent part of the scent. At the end of the 3rd hour, and the start of the 4th, Generation Femme is really pretty blend of raw almonds, green neroli, heliotrope almond meringue, and vanilla tonka powder. It’s far from being gourmand in nature, thanks to the bitterness of the bright neroli which keeps the sweetness in check. Instead, 2022 Femme is now a mix of citric freshness and bitterness, with sweetness and powdered coziness. The perfume hovers just an inch above the skin at this point, feels softer and has lost some of its clean musk.

Source: merlyimpressions.co.uk

Despite the heliotrope’s prettiness, it doesn’t remain as a constant presence. Generation Femme is primarily about neroli on my skin, and the perfume regains that focus about 5.5 hours into its evolution. It is primarily a bouquet of green, spicy, bright and bitter neroli with tonka powder and only a light trace of heliotrope. Tiny flickers of almonds remain, but what is much more noticeable is a new creaminess in the base. It doesn’t smell like Mysore to me (and you know what a finicky snob I am about sandalwood), but it is lovely nonetheless. It’s a smooth, creamy woodiness that is lightly spiced, and it works very well with the neroli. The whole thing is dusted with sweetened powder, but it only occasionally smells like heliotrope in a distinct way.

For the most part, Generation Femme’s middle phase centers mainly on spicy, powdered neroli with sweetness, all resting atop fluctuating degrees of creamy woodiness in the base. The latter begins to fade away as the hours pass, leaving a drydown that is just neroli, vanilla, and sweetened powder. In its final moments, 2022 Generation Femme is a simple blur of vanilla powder with a trace of spicy neroli. It lasted just over 14.5 hours on my perfume-consuming skin.

ALL IN ALL:

Source: backdropsforyourlife.wordpress.com

As a whole, both 2022 Generation fragrances seem intended to be different takes on crisp, green freshness combined with sweetness and woody creaminess. They’re both simple, approachable, easy scents that would probably work well in the summer months, and I think they are quite unisex in nature.

However, I also think that they lack distinctiveness or originality. 2022 Generation Femme feels like a more expensive version of a commercial, mainstream profile, but it is generally well done. I have no words to express my antipathy towards Generation Homme. There are plenty of niche fragrances that inundate you with aromachemicals, especially ISO E Super, but that doesn’t mean that it’s justified, in my opinion. Particularly for the increased cost. I expected a lot more from the SHL 777 line.

Both fragrances costs €235 for a small 50 ml bottle. As noted above, the complete 777 line will be in American stores at Luckyscent and Osswald NY at the end of April. I don’t have the American prices, but €235 translates to just under $325 at today’s rate of exchange. My experience with European exclusives is that the final American price is usually much less, so my rough guess for 2022 Generation would be around $295 a bottle. That’s merely a personal guess, though.

Generally, I try to provide comparative reviews or assessments for you to make up your own mind about a scent. If you’re interested, there are some brief, early comments in a Basenotes thread on both 2022 Generation fragrances, but I’m afraid I’m insufficiently inspired to talk much more about either one of them. Generation Femme is the better of the two, in my opinion, and a fully unisex fragrance that you may want to try if you’re someone who loves citric freshness with bitterness, greenness, vanillic sweetness, and some creamy woods. For the sake of politeness, I have no further comment on the other one.

Disclosure: Perfume sample courtesy of Stéphane Humbert Lucas. That did not influence this review. I do not do paid reviews, and my opinions are my own.

DETAILS:

Cost & Availability: Both versions of 2022 Generation are pure parfum in concentration and come in a 50 ml size that costs €235. I do not know the American pricing. The 777 line should be at Luckyscent and Osswald NYC shortly. [Update 5/2/14– Osswald has received the 777 line, and sells the two Generation fragrances for $309 each.] Currently, the Stéphane Humbert Lucas’ website is under construction, and doesn’t have an e-store. Outside the U.S.: the best online resource is First in Fragrance which currently has about half of the SHL 777 line, including the two 2022 Generation fragrances. The newer releases should be arriving soon. In London, you can find the entire SHL 777 line at Harrod’s Black Room, while in Paris, they are available at Printemps under the name 777. Zurich’s Osswald also carries the line, but I don’t think they have an e-store any more. The Swiss perfumery, Theodora, also has SHL 777, but no e-store. In Cannes, France, a store called Taizo is said to carry the brand, but I don’t see 777 on their website at this time. In the Middle East, the UAE company called Sagma Corp talks about the line, but they are merely distributors and don’t have an e-store. However, Souq.com has about 6 of the earlier fragrances which it sells for AED 1,500. In Russia, SHL 777 is available at Lenoma. Ukraine’s Sana Hunt Luxury store also carries the line, but they don’t have an e-store. Samples: None of the U.S. sample sites currently carry this fragrance, but Luckyscent and Osswald NYC will be your best option once the SHL 777 perfumes are released in America.

Stéphane Humbert Lucas 777 Oumma: Smoky Woods

Posted on April 22, 2014 by Kafkaesque

Source: wall321.com

Sacred woods, sweet smokiness, and a damask rose turned dark and dry. It’s the tale of Oumma, but only a small part of it. Saffron, leathered Burmese oud, singed mesquite, and dancing wisps of sweet jasmine are also involved in a shape-shifting story that twists and turns. It twists so much, in fact, that I experienced two fundamentally different versions of Oumma, depending on where I applied it. It can be either the saga of darkened, mystical woods, or the story of a rose dying on the vine from smoky dryness. You will hear both tales.

Stéphane Humbert Lucas, via the SHL Facebook page and used with permission.

Oumma is a 2013 fragrance from Stéphane Humbert Lucas 777 (hereinafter just referred to as “SHL 777” or “777“). All the fragrances are created by Monsieur Lucas, who used to be the in-house perfumer for SoOud and Nez à Nez. Up to now, the 777 line was exclusive to Europe, Russia, and Middle Eastern, but there is excellent news. The complete SHL 777 line will be coming to America in a few weeks, including the stunning amber, O Hira, that was previously contractually limited to Harrods and Printemps, and such new releases as Qom Chilom and the mandarin-ginger-immortelle-tobacco scent, Une Nuit à Doha. They will be carried at Luckyscent and Osswald NYC. I have samples of the complete line, thanks to the generosity and kindness of Monsieur Lucas, and I will be going through them, one by one (though with some breaks and not all in a row) so that you will be well prepared when 777 hits the stores.

Oumma. Source: Stéphane Humbert Lucas.

Oumma is listed on some places as being an eau de parfum, but it is really an Extrait like the other fragrances in the 777 line, all of which have a concentration around 24%. According to the press release documents that I was sent, Oumma is described as follows:

A mastery of contrasts at the service of agarwood

Perfume of Communion, deep.

Egyptian Jasmine, Moroccan Rose,
Peruvian Balsam, balsam tolu,
Ashes of cade, burmese oud, nagarmotha [Cypriol].

There is more to Oumma than that. Elsewhere, I’ve read that the base also includes 3 different types of roses, while I myself smelled saffron in the fragrance, along with some sort of ambered type of resin. In his correspondence with me, Monsieur Lucas confirmed the saffron, and said that there was also a cistus/labdanum derivative called “dynamone.”

Source: stockarch.com

He wrote that, for him, Oumma is almost a religious fragrance in its aromatic wooded essence:

Pour moi, Oumma est assez “religieux”. C’est une vapeur “médicinale” chic à la précision “horlogère”. Une suie de bois de ouf fine comme de l’albâtre moulu, une mécanique des fluides ajustée et persistante. Les mélodies magiciennes de la clarinette et du hautbois.

[For me, Oumma is rather “religious.” This is a chic “medicinal” scent done with the precision of a watch. Soot from wood, as fine as grounded alabaster, with fluid mechanics, adjusted and persistent. Magicians of clarinet and oboe melodies.]

He also talked about how Oumma is meant to represent “heaven and earth” with the dark, balsamic resins intended to act as a concrete foundation for the more mystical, spiritual and abstract elements, like the cade which he used in order to add a “baroque” touch. In short, for Monsieur Lucas, Oumma is not meant to be stereotypical “oud” fragrance, so much as the evocation of something more abstractly spiritual by means of finely tuned, multi-faceted woody smoke.

Monsieur Lucas never talked about roses in his discussions with me about Oumma. He focused only on the woods and the cade. I think that’s significant, because he clearly doesn’t mean for Oumma to be yet another interpretation of a floral oriental, a rose fragrance, or a rose-oud-saffron combination. It’s also important because a simple rose-oud-saffron fragrance is not what I experienced on a number of occasions. In fact, what emanated from one arm was substantially different than what wafted off the other. Such discrepancies occasionally happen to me, though infrequently. (I’m starting to wonder if it is an issue of pH balance, perhaps?) Rare as such differences are, I now try to test fragrances on both arms whenever possible, as I did here with Oumma. The result was a fragrance that was totally different in its focus for first 5 hours or so, even though a portion of the middle phase and all of the final drydown were the same in both instances. So, I’m going to have to give you two different breakdowns for Oumma.

VERSION ONE:

Source: mesolithic.org.uk

Oumma opens on my skin with smoky, sweet, singed woods that are musky with almost a suggestion of horsey leather and a strong whiff of mesquite. The oud is not medicinal like band-aids, not fecal, or even very heavily smoked at first. Rather, it’s smooth, devoid of any funk that usually comes with oud, and smells exactly like mesquite woods that have been lightly singed. Within seconds, a tiny dusting of saffron appears, and the hint of a dry, red rose nestled deep within the woods. The whole thing lies on a dark base that feels almost balsamic and resinous.

Riding through bonfire smoke in celebration of Saint Anthony in San Bartolomo de Pinares, Spain. Source: clikhear.palmbeachpost.com

Neither the spice nor the rose is as noticeable as Oumma’s increasingly leathered streak. It utterly captivates me with its mix of sweetness, muskiness, and subtle animalic touches. Slightly honeyed in feel, the leather is a little raw and really evokes for me a horse’s saddle. To be clear, I’m not saying that Oumma smells of sweaty horses. It does not. But there is a leatheriness to the fragrance that is lightly animalic with its slightly sweet muskiness, and it somehow translates as vaguely “horsey” in the most subtle way imaginable.

Mesquite wood chips on coal. Source: My Story in Recipes blogspot. http://mystoryinrecipes.blogspot.com/2012/08/grill-smoked-chicken.html

Oumma slowly shifts as time passes. The rose seems subtler than ever, more like a suggestion and a wisp fading in the wind. The cedar comes out in its own right after 10 minutes, but the main woody element to my nose is the oud with its mysterious, strange similarity to mesquite. Oumma is turning drier with every passing minute, taking on more and more of a smoky, singed aroma. In one test, it also wafted a parched dryness in the base that felt almost like an aromachemical. It was slightly sharp, almost desiccated in feel, though it was a subtle touch. It lurks in the base next to an equally muted hint of something almost tobacco’d, though I suspect that it is merely another facet of the leathery oud.

Up top, the suggestion of saffron grows stronger, taking on a spicy bite that is almost like that of a mild chili or pimento pepper. And, call me crazy, but on two occasions, there was almost a chocolate-y cardamom-like touch to Oumma’s bouquet as well. The first time I detected it, it was fleeting enough for me to think it was all my imagination, but the wisp appeared a second time as well. It adds one more lovely layer to that opening bouquet of multi-faceted, wooded richness.

25 minutes into the perfume’s development, the cade bursts out with great strength. To my nose, cade and birch tar are extremely alike, but cade has a slightly more turpentine, phenolic, oily undertone. Monsieur Lucas finds cade to be more “masculine,” while he sees birch tar as more “feminine.” I don’t know about that. All I can say is that Oumma begins to take on a very heavy oiliness, as if a thick layer of an actual attar oil were lying on my skin. Its smokiness has a subtle tarriness that definitely resembles that in birch, but there is also a quiet suggestion of turpentine lurking deep down below. Meanwhile, the oud’s singed tonalities are turning into woods on fire, emitting a thicker blanket of black smokiness. The rose is now completely dead on my skin.

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

As a whole, Oumma in its opening hour is a dry, leathered oud with increasingly hefty, billowing cade smoke, subtle touches of different spices, a sweet muskiness, and a touch of tarriness, all upon a dark, vaguely resinous base. It is simultaneously sharp, dry, and musky with a very thick, heavy, oily feel that resembles that of an attar. Like an attar, Oumma’s concentrated nature does not come with enormous sillage. I generally had 3-4 inches of projection, at most, in the opening 30 minutes, regardless of whether I applied 2, 3, or more sprays from my atomizer. That sillage soon softens, and, at the start of the second hour, Oumma generally hovers about 1-2 inches above my skin which is where it stays for hours on end.

Oumma’s development varied on my skin after this point. At some point, usually around the start of the 3rd hour, tiny flickers of jasmine emerge, but they are muted at first and they weren’t consistently a strong feature on my skin each and every time I test the fragrance. In contrast, Oumma’s rose note always pops back up, though it is usually in the background. Once, for a brief moment, Oumma smelled rather like a turpentine, woody rose with intense smokiness. Around the same time, the aromachemical-like dryness disappears quite quickly, there are fluctuating degrees of cedar, and the spices soften over time before fading away around the end of the 3rd hour.

Source: rgbstock.com

Each time, and in every test, Oumma turns smoother, with much better calibrated, balanced levels of smokiness and dryness. The tarry undertone vanishes at the start of the 4th hour, the leather feels less raw and musky, and Oumma loses its occasionally sharp touches. The fragrance still smells of singed woods, but the fire is no longer roaring away

For the most part, Oumma’s second phase consists of a multi-faceted, smooth, deep wave of relatively dry woodiness dominated by singed woods, followed by very subtle flickers of either jasmine or rose that are fully mixed into the cade smoke and a light touch of sweetness. The whole thing lies atop a smear of golden, almost ambered resins in the base. On one occasion, the jasmine grew quite noticeable, and its sweetness thoroughly tamed the smoky toughness of the cade. On another occasion, the counterbalance seemed to come more from the tolu and peru balsams in the base.

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

Throughout it all, however, the oud never smells like the agarwood to which I am accustomed in other fragrances. This is not the oud of a Montale, Amouage, or Xerjoff fragrance. There is no funk at all, no “noble rot.” To that extent, it is practically a “clean” oud — one that smells merely like expensive woods that are slightly leathery and musky at first, before turning primarily singed in nature. What was interesting about it was the subtle meatiness lurking underneath at times. In one test, the oud’s aroma in the first hour reminded me of an actual “steak au poivre,” only this one was cooked on a mesquite barbecue grill. On another occasion, however, the oud’s main focus was centered on leather, and nothing else. In all cases, however, it is fully infused with the cade’s birch-like smokiness and smells dry.

Oumma has a third and fourth phase as well. The third stage is where my two versions come much closer to meeting up and merging. The fourth and final one is where they are identical. In the former, the rose comes out to a significant degree. At first, it is a full, deep, multi-faceted damask rose with great smoothness and depth. Like the oud, it is thoroughly infused with the cade’s smokiness. On occasion, the rose feels as though it has been lightly sprinkled with saffron, but the general impression is of a very meaty, rich rose that is fully subsumed within the dry, singed, still slightly leathery woods and the cade. In all instances, however, this version of Oumma is never driven by or centered on the rose. It’s all about the woods.

Source: rgbstock.com

Oumma’s final phase usually begins somewhere around the start of the 9th hour. On my skin, it is consistently a simple bouquet of dry woodiness with a touch of powder and some vaguely ambered sweetness. The powder is really almost like a granular texture, more than actual powderiness or a perfumed note, but it’s a little hard to explain. Regardless, Oumma’s drydown on my skin is primarily abstract woodiness with powdered dryness. Nothing more. Oumma remains that way until it finally fades away, usually some time well after the 14th hour, depending on how much of the fragrance I applied.

VERSION TWO:

Source: publicdomainpictures.net

My second version of Oumma begins with the same meaty, mesquite, leathery woodiness, infused with musky sweetness and cade smokiness. The ambered, resinous, cistus labdanum base is much more noticeable, as is the saffron up top. Oumma is significantly less dry, parched, and smoky this time around. The cade is dialed down about 5 notches in this version, if not more. Oumma feels smoother, deeper, warmer, and more finely calibrated or balanced in terms of its various parts.

In this version, Oumma is significantly more floral on my skin for a good chunk of its first stage. The jasmine is the first to come out this time, adding its sweetness and floral touch 75 minutes into the perfume’s development. Shortly thereafter, the rose appears. It is even richer than in the other version, more velvety and sweet. For a brief instance, it carried a little bit of a sour nuance, but generally, it is a blood-red, deep rose. Its prominence fundamentally impacts Oumma’s character on my skin, skewing the perfume’s focus away from the woody, leathered, or smoky elements.

Source: wallpho.com/

The metamorphosis of the rose is at the heart of this version of Oumma. The flower begins with full-bodied sweetness and stands alone, but soon turns into a leathered, velvety rose with musky, smoked wood, followed by cade smoke and a subtle sprinkling of spices, all above a resinous base. Oumma loses its subtle jasmine touches by the end of the second hour, leaving the rose as the perfume’s only floral star.

Spirit of a Dying Rose by Vincent Knaus via RealityDefined.com.

Over time, Oumma begins to turn drier and drier, slowly seeping the moisture and juices out of the rose. About 3.5 hours in, Oumma is mostly a soft, deep rose that feels dark brown and almost withered. The cade smoke and leather are much weaker now, but Oumma continues to reflect a dry, mesquite-like woodiness. Slowly, the ambered base starts to emerge, while the jasmine occasionally pops back up for a brief moment to wave hello before disappearing again.

At the start of the 5th hour, Oumma is a dry, withered, decaying, brown rose with amber and woody dryness. There is the first hint of something powdered and grainy that emerges, and this time, it feels almost (but not quite) vanillic in nature. By the time the 8th hour rolls around, Oumma’s rose is powdery, dry, ravaged, and woody in a way that reminds me of the drydown to Guerlain‘s Middle Eastern rose fragrances, namely Encens Mythique d’Orient from the Déserts d’Orient collection.

Source: wallsave.com

Oumma’s final stage and drydown are a return back to woodiness. Slowly, very slowly, the rose gives up the fight and dies, leaving only the same powdered, abstract, blurry woods I experienced in my other version. Again, Oumma had enormous longevity. Here, to be precise, it lasted 16.25 hours, though the sillage felt much more intimate in this version when taken as a whole. This time, Oumma hovered just above the skin after 2.75 hours, and I used 3 very large sprays. I think the fact that the cade’s smokiness was so much weaker in this version is one reason why the fragrance feels much softer and tamer. That said, the longevity is really excellent.

ALL IN ALL:

Oumma. Source: Stéphane Humbert Lucas.

I found one detailed review for Oumma. It is from Persolaise, who spends a good deal of time initially questioning the sincerity or genuineness of Monsieur Lucas’ fascination with the Middle East, his motivations, his personal feelings, and whether he has sold out to claim “his share of petrodollars.” Once he gets to Oumma’s actual aroma, he finds it “gorgeous,” but far from unique. He thinks it is saved from being like every other oriental rose fragrance only by the quality and richness of its ingredients:

Oumma is nothing we haven’t smelt before. So at first sniff, it would seem to suggest that SHL has, in fact, sold out and wants nothing more than to claim his share of petrodollars. The scent is a balsamic, leathery, woody rose, of the sort which can often be detected within a 3-mile radius of Harrods. But as if determined to silence any detractors, Humbert-Lucas has employed two strategies to make the perfume considerably more attention-worthy than most of the other Dubai-centric wannabees.

A damask rose.

Firstly, he’s imbued the composition with tremendous richness. His publicity machine would no doubt have us believe that he’s achieved this by using a high proportion of naturals. And perhaps he has. But I’m sure he hasn’t stayed away from the synthetics in his palette either. This doesn’t really matter, because Oumma creates the all-important illusion that it is luxurious and opulent. Maybe it’s the presence of a dry saffron note, maybe it’s the deft handling of the musks in the base, or maybe it’s because SHL really has poured a barrel-ful of rose oil into the stuff. Whatever the reason, the juice rises to the status implied by its gasp-inducing price tag.

Secondly, he’s paid attention to the scent’s structure. Most of these Arabian roses wallow in their base notes, letting any charm they might have had drown within a quicksand of synthetic sandalwoods and bellowing musks. Oumma stands up tall, allowing the different facets of its personality to come to the fore at various stages of its development. My guess is that SHL has given the scent its legs by paying attention to the citruses at the top. Not unlike the function of the bergamot in Shalimar, these pull and stretch the other, heavier elements of the construction, paradoxically causing them to appear weightier than they would have if they’d been left undiluted. In other words, the citruses add contrast.

So yes, […] it would be churlish of me to deny that Oumma is a highly accomplished piece of work, full of the warm-blooded tempestuousness which we’ve come to associate with the ‘exotic’ East.

Obviously, both of the versions of Oumma that I experienced differ widely from what appeared on his skin. I certainly had no citruses at all, let alone a Shalimar-like structure or resemblance. On my skin, Oumma was primarily the dry woody fragrance that Monsieur Lucas intended, though the rose was a partner in one of the instances to some variegated degree. Skin chemistry is clearly going to impact what sort of fragrance you may experience in turn.

There are no other detailed reviews for me to provide you with a more consistent sense of Oumma’s character. The perfume has an entry on Fragrantica, but there are no comments listed as of yet. On Basenotes, one thread contains a brief, passing description of Oumma as dry and woody, but not much more.

I don’t have the official American pricing information for Oumma but, in Europe, the perfume retails for €395 for a 50 ml bottle of pure parfum, just like Oud 777. While that figure comes to $545 at today’s rate of conversion, my experience in the past with European exclusives is that they are always priced lower than the exchange amount. My guess is that Oumma will probably retail for around $495 or $500 in the U.S., but that is only a guess.

Source: Wallsave.com

At the end of the day, I find Oumma to be interesting, but it doesn’t move me emotionally. My favorite part was the sweet, musky leatheriness of the opening. I loved it, especially because of its animalic, vaguely horsey feel which I found to be evocative and very sexy. (If Burmese oud always smells like that, I have to get my hands on some!) After that, though, my feelings turn to ambivalence. Rose fragrances do nothing for me in general, so that part left me cold, while the heart of singed woodiness didn’t really stand out for me. It’s all very well-done, but I suppose purely smoky, wood-centric fragrances require a little more for me personally. Some touch of sexiness, perhaps, or something a little warmer and ambered. On my skin, Oumma’s primary characteristic was woody, smoked dryness — and that’s not enough for me, especially for €395. In this, as in everything to do with perfume, it’s going to come down to personal tastes and skin chemistry.

All I can say is that you should definitely sample or sniff Oumma if you like very dry, woody fragrances with a cade (or birch-like) darkness, or if you adore smoky Orientals with deep, withered roses like Guerlain’s Encens Mythique. If either of those things sound appealing, Oumma should be available and in more stores quite soon.

Disclosure: Perfume sample courtesy of Stéphane Humbert Lucas. That did not influence this review. I do not do paid reviews, and my opinions are my own.

DETAILS:

Cost & Availability: Oumma is an Extrait or pure parfum that is only available in a 50 ml bottle and costs €395. The 777 line will be at Luckyscent soon, but has arrived at Osswald NYC on 5/2/14. Osswald sells Oumma for $515. Outside the U.S.: Currently, the Stéphane Humbert Lucas’ website is under construction, and doesn’t have an e-store. The best online resource is First in Fragrance which currently has about half of the SHL 777 line, and will soon be receiving the newer releases as well. Oumma is actually listed on their website, since it is one of the 2013 releases, but FiF is out of stock. FiF informed me that they should be getting more of the SHL 777 line soon. In London, you can find the entire collection at Harrod’s Black Room, while in Paris, they are exclusive to Printemps under the name 777. In France, the SHL 777 line is also said to be available at Taizo in Cannes, but they didn’t list the line on their website the last time I checked and they have no e-store. Zurich’s Osswald also carries the line, but I don’t think they have an e-store any more. The Swiss perfumery, Theodora, also has SHL 777, but, again, no e-store. In Cannes, France, the boutique, Taizo, is said to carry the line, but I don’t see SHL 777 on their website. In the Middle East, Souq.com has about 6 of the earlier perfumes which it sells for AED 1,500. In the UAE, the SHL 777 line is available at Harvey Nichols and at Bloomingdales in the Dubai Mall. In Russia, SHL 777 is sold at Lenoma. Ukraine’s Sana Hunt Luxury store also carries the line, but they don’t have an e-store. Samples: None of the U.S. sample sites currently carry this fragrance. Luckyscent and Osswald NY will be your best option once the SHL 777 perfumes are released in America. However, Osswald has changed its sample program to take away the great “10 for $20” deal that it had previously, due to abuse by some customers. The Sample section on the website now shows pricing that is per vial and dependant on the cost of the particular perfume in question. They range from $3 a vial up to $9 a vial for fragrances that cost over $300. You can call Osswald at (212) 625-3111 to order by phone as well.