Reviews of Dilmun (2000)
by Lorenzo Villoresi

Sampling Lorenzo Villoresi’s orange blossom composition shortly after Czech & Speake’s divine Neroli does poor Dilmun very little service. Like many Villoresi scents, Dilmun starts out harsh and confused, but unlike Piper Nigrum or Incensi, it never quite sorts itself out. The heart is a soapy, yet indolic orange blossom accord, but it is marred for me by a shrill, sour, chemical note that shrieks its way through the entire development. If I imagine away the dissonant element, I’m left with a pleasant, if unadventurous orange blossom floral-oriental on a sweet ambery foundation. Unfortunately, my imagination has limited stamina, and I’d just as soon save the effort by wearing something else (Serge Lutens Fleurs d’Oranger, Czech & Speake Neroli,) when I’m in the mood for orange blossom.

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.

Very diappointing, as I love orange blossom immensely. Sadly, this turned almost bitter as it dried and reminded me of the horrible Paul Sebastian Fine Cologne for men (blech!)

I really wanted to like this scent, the ingredients sounded really appealing. It seems to be the Villoresi trademark that all his scents have clear, crisp, pure notes and a progression that you can clearly follow. Unfortunately, this combination was too sweet for me, even the citrus was sweet, with florals reinforced by the sweet fragrant resins, further reinforced by the flower extracts and vanilla. It rapidly reminded me of an Italian barbershop and stayed that way, down to the soap in my ears and crisp white uniform of the barber. If you like this kind of scent, by all means go for it. I guess it wasn't for me.