Dilmun (2000)
by Lorenzo Villoresi

I love weird and off the beaten track perfumes. believe it or not Hoos's review was the one that made me go out and order a sample of Dilnum. I thought "wow, this must be great! It can't be that bad!". Well... it is... Probably Hoos and I have the exact same skin chemistry, because after the initial lovely orange blossom all i could smell was urine! I could not believe it! I sprayed some on a testing strip and it was beautiful orange blossom, with a hint of bathroom detergent after a while, but nothing like the vile smel of urins I got on my skin. Unbelievable. And nobody else gets tha smell on their skin. It's nice to know I have a skin chemistry buddy... Here's to you Hoos!

Last night I sampled Lorenzo Villoresi's Dilmun. And I have a story. Pour yourself a nice little beverage, maybe a small plate of shortbread, pull up a chair by the hearth, and I'll tell you my tale of Dilmun:

It all starts as a lovely trip for Mom, Dad, Dexter, and Penny. Yes, they're taking a car trip on a beautiful morning that has a hint of orange blossom in the air.

Less than an hour out of town, Dexter exclaims, "Dad! Look! A cake factory! Can we stop? Pleeeeezzzzzeeeee?"

Now Penny loves cake and thinks the idea of touring a cake factory would be wonderful and they might even get samples! So, Penny chimes in "Come on Mom! That would be fun! Let's go!"

Mom and Dad benevolently smile knowingly at each other and Dad chucks little Dexter under the chin and says, "Sure, son. Let's tour the cake factory."

As they wend up the road leading to the Dilmun Cake Factory, a road lined with beautiful orange trees in blossom, a faint chemical smell reaches out to their nostrils. Nearly too faint too notice. Mom, ever vigilant over her family, says "Hmmm. Do you smell that honey? I'm kind of concerned."

Dad, tapping out his pipe and chortling ever so gently, says, "Honey, you worry too much. That's probably nothing."

So, Mom, Dad, Dexter, and Penny trundle up to the DCF and ask for a tour. The plant manager, Mr. Glower, looks at them with a bit of surprise. "Um," Mr. Glower emphatically states, "we usually don't give tours here."

Dexter pipes up, "But it's a cake factory! How can you not give tours?"

Mr. Glower looks our loving family up and down, debates a moment, and says, "Well, if you like, come on in."

Imagine our lovely family's surprise to be greeted by aisle upon aisle of shelves packed ceiling to floor with cakes! And not just any old cake, either!

Urinal cakes! On a hot day in a huge storage room with no venting.

Yes, our little family quickly went from a pleasant day scented by a breeze tinged with orange blossom to standing inside a hot, airless room filled with nothing but urinal cakes. Cakes whose power of scentification seemed to grow by magnitudes of 10 as each second ticked by.

The family fled with noses held and feet a-flying. But they could not escape the smell. They dived for the car. Dad sped (Dad never drove like that before!) all the way home.

They took three showers and still they smelled of urinal cakes. Mom thought a nice alcohol bath might help. Alas, Mom was wrong. Dad, thinking through the horrid predicament as only a Dad could, said "Clorox Wipes! That'll do it!" Alas, Dad was wrong too. Even subsequent showers with a nice bar of Lava Soap did nothing for the clingy-sweet stink of the Dilmun Cake Factory.

Much like the emanations from a frightened skunk, the scent from the Dilmun Cake Factory was not to be trifled with. It was an event to be lived through. Even, if you will, suffer through.

So, gentle reader, the next spring morning that you step from your house, notice a lovely scent of orange blossom, and think it would be a wonderful day for a family outing. Just remember: it would be, but it would be nicer if you avoided the Dilmun Cake Factory tour.


This conflagration of fragrance is officially worse than Michael for Men simply because of its unholy tenacity. It gets no stars and a thumbs down.

Wonderful citrus, floral, and green opening—there’s an excellent tangy green stab of sharpness in the midst of the citrus and flowers. As the citruses fade, the green loses its sharpness and sweetness, and it becomes a more mature, full, rich fragrance dominated by a laurel that is mellowed by the florals. Usually I don’t care for too obvious florals in a fragrance, but I find the floral element in Dilmun to be quite pleasurable and not at all too feminine. I think it’s the lasting prominent citrus note and the resinous feel to the fragrance that keeps the florals from taking over completely. The citrus holds almost through the entire run of the fragrance, and the florals last even longer—all the way through the dry down. Dilmun is an enticing fragrance—one of the few where I really love a strong floral presence.

According to the Villoresi web site, there are 13 ingredients in Dilmun:

Top: Citrus, Rose, Neroli, Green Leaves
Middle: Petitgrain, Laurel, Opoponax, Incense
Base: Floral extracts, Elemi, Vanilla, Cedarwood, Sandalwood

This is the third Villoresi scent I have tried and I find it to be quite nice. Most reminiscent of Floris #127, although not as strong as the Floris. They both share the neroli, softened by rose, and with a petitgrain support. A very light and pleasant neroli, which in the drydown is softened by vanilla notes.

I was surprised to find that Truefitt and Hill's West Indian Limes is really a neroli based scent with citrus evident only at the beginning. This too is similar to Dilmun, but Dilmun is more subtle and sophisticated.

A very fine neroli on a par with Floris #127.

This is my favorite orange blossom scent, heightened and spiced with elemi and resins. Good lasting power, and very elegant. An extremely light touch of laurel gives it a good lift. Very bright and rich.

I love orange blossom, grew up in Orange County in the 50s and 60s when you could still catch a whiff of it in the air. This one struck me on first try as a very masculine fragrance - the woods and dry herbs came out strongly and it seemed very dry - but on second wearing I fell for it, and sensed its feminine side. It is very broadly composed around its orange flower heart. Unlike Serge Lutens' Fleurs d'Oranger which is so creamy and solid you can almost taste it, this one invites you to expand your lungs, extend your awareness over the entire pastoral landscape.