12/18/2021
Arcane
11 Reviews
Arcane
3
...and never the twain shall meet.
Enclosed with an order from an online perfume store specialising in Middle-Eastern fragrances were two free samples, both of them from the UAE-based Al Wataniah house. Given the fact that I'd ordered oud(h)-heavy fragrances, the store's freebie picks were, in hindsight, odd to say the least. Before testing these I knew nothing about them, so I went into it with an open nose, so to speak.
The first one is Thahaani, an eau de parfum which is not yet listed on Parfumo. What I can tell you about it is this: if, as a guy, you like to feel like a walking and talking flower arrangement, then by all means do seek out Thahaani. This is quintessential girly-girls stuff. I felt like trespassing some pubescent countess' secret flower garden domain, with all those pastel colours screaming at me in their shrill girly-girls voices: 'Get out! Get out!' I did, feeling rather fortunate I'd sprayed the scent on a paper strip first. Whew, narrow escape there. Now don't get me wrong; I do love a lot of women's fragrances, but, you know, on a woman.
For whatever unreasoned reason I sprayed the second sample on my skin first. Now, on that scent I'd like to share a few words that will hopefully be of some use to readers. Because an interesting little experience it has been, testing Bareeq al Dhabab eau de parfum.
So, unwittingly, I put two discreet sprays of Bareeq on my wrist. Without delay, they produced the pungent, sour, bordering-on-the-nauseous air of a public urinal that hasn't seen a cleaner for a week. Ugh. Being the patient man that I am, I waited for the dry-down and a possible change for the better. But: no. I(t) kept on stinking. Trying to scrub the foul thing off my wrist, I grumbled to myself: 'Why didn't I spray this on a piece of paper first?' Well, I did so a bit later after all, puzzled by the effect. Had I stumbled on a bad bottle, a bad batch?
Much to my surprise, the two sprays of said liquid on a strip of paper turned out to be an entirely different story. No public toilet horrors. No pungent sourness. No stinking up the place. On that strip, Bareeq al Dhabab did actually smell like the (s)lightly smokey soft sweet scent that was no doubt intended by the anonymous perfumer. (Then again, one can never be entirely certain. Like that notorious dead singer once wrote: 'People are strange...')
As the three-note samba listed here on Parfumo is quite incomplete, here's the official one for Bareeq al Dhabab from the seller:
Top: Saffron, Pimento, Rose
Heart: Patchouli, Caramel, Oud(h), Flower Notes
Base: Musk, Frankincense, Amber, Resins, Woody Notes
On paper, the mostly ambery dry-down is unspectacular but pleasant, lingering for a good many hours. Oud(h) I do not detect in this. Both the pimento and saffron are hardly more than pinches, only noticeable as faint accents during the opening, while in the middle and end stages the musky part gets snowed under by the amber/caramel sweetness. Considering the latter, this perfume would normally prompt a recommendation to devoted afficionadi of fruit-free sweeties. In this particular case, however, the advice must be: please do try before you buy. Judging from my testing, skin and scent marriage for this one may differ strongly from individual to individual. If on your skin the simple, or straightforward, Bareeq al Dhabab smells as it does on my strip of paper, you have a solid budget-priced EdP sweetie to add to your wish list. Oh fragrance chemistry, you unfathomable cosmos of mystery.
As with a lot of Arabic perfumes, this one feels more or less unisex. Perhaps that's why, for an Oriental release, the bottle design looks remarkably restrained. It seems to be nicely weighty, too. Since Bareeq al Dhabab produces such starkly antipodean effects on paper and my skin, I have refrained from rating it, as that simply would be unfair. Can't have that. So make of this review what you will, bearing in mind that Al Wataniah has a number of fine and above-average performing perfumes in their catalogue. Like I wrote in the second paragraph: it's been an interesting little experience.
The first one is Thahaani, an eau de parfum which is not yet listed on Parfumo. What I can tell you about it is this: if, as a guy, you like to feel like a walking and talking flower arrangement, then by all means do seek out Thahaani. This is quintessential girly-girls stuff. I felt like trespassing some pubescent countess' secret flower garden domain, with all those pastel colours screaming at me in their shrill girly-girls voices: 'Get out! Get out!' I did, feeling rather fortunate I'd sprayed the scent on a paper strip first. Whew, narrow escape there. Now don't get me wrong; I do love a lot of women's fragrances, but, you know, on a woman.
For whatever unreasoned reason I sprayed the second sample on my skin first. Now, on that scent I'd like to share a few words that will hopefully be of some use to readers. Because an interesting little experience it has been, testing Bareeq al Dhabab eau de parfum.
So, unwittingly, I put two discreet sprays of Bareeq on my wrist. Without delay, they produced the pungent, sour, bordering-on-the-nauseous air of a public urinal that hasn't seen a cleaner for a week. Ugh. Being the patient man that I am, I waited for the dry-down and a possible change for the better. But: no. I(t) kept on stinking. Trying to scrub the foul thing off my wrist, I grumbled to myself: 'Why didn't I spray this on a piece of paper first?' Well, I did so a bit later after all, puzzled by the effect. Had I stumbled on a bad bottle, a bad batch?
Much to my surprise, the two sprays of said liquid on a strip of paper turned out to be an entirely different story. No public toilet horrors. No pungent sourness. No stinking up the place. On that strip, Bareeq al Dhabab did actually smell like the (s)lightly smokey soft sweet scent that was no doubt intended by the anonymous perfumer. (Then again, one can never be entirely certain. Like that notorious dead singer once wrote: 'People are strange...')
As the three-note samba listed here on Parfumo is quite incomplete, here's the official one for Bareeq al Dhabab from the seller:
Top: Saffron, Pimento, Rose
Heart: Patchouli, Caramel, Oud(h), Flower Notes
Base: Musk, Frankincense, Amber, Resins, Woody Notes
On paper, the mostly ambery dry-down is unspectacular but pleasant, lingering for a good many hours. Oud(h) I do not detect in this. Both the pimento and saffron are hardly more than pinches, only noticeable as faint accents during the opening, while in the middle and end stages the musky part gets snowed under by the amber/caramel sweetness. Considering the latter, this perfume would normally prompt a recommendation to devoted afficionadi of fruit-free sweeties. In this particular case, however, the advice must be: please do try before you buy. Judging from my testing, skin and scent marriage for this one may differ strongly from individual to individual. If on your skin the simple, or straightforward, Bareeq al Dhabab smells as it does on my strip of paper, you have a solid budget-priced EdP sweetie to add to your wish list. Oh fragrance chemistry, you unfathomable cosmos of mystery.
As with a lot of Arabic perfumes, this one feels more or less unisex. Perhaps that's why, for an Oriental release, the bottle design looks remarkably restrained. It seems to be nicely weighty, too. Since Bareeq al Dhabab produces such starkly antipodean effects on paper and my skin, I have refrained from rating it, as that simply would be unfair. Can't have that. So make of this review what you will, bearing in mind that Al Wataniah has a number of fine and above-average performing perfumes in their catalogue. Like I wrote in the second paragraph: it's been an interesting little experience.
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