This is a nice ambery floriental in the vein of Teo Cabanel's (much better) Alahine. After a brief flash of galbanum and citrus, jasmine and rose make a heady appearance, and are joined immediately by a thick and sweet vanillic amber. The freshness of the green, citric top notes don't even make it past the first half an hour, so what you are basically left with is a rich, floral amber that feels like any one of those large, diffusive, fruity, rich perfumes of the 80s. Except those 80s perfumes knew to last the distance - this one sheds richness and concentration like flakes of skin every minute until it is a pale, ambery shadow of itself. It dries down to a relatively transparent, weightless vanilla amber base that is undistinguished by anything except perhaps for its extreme sweetness. Given the high price of this, I find it hard why anyone would opt for this over something like Alahine, or, in the weightless rose-amber category, something like the wonderful Ambre 114.
Feminine for sure. Opens with a blast of fruit and florals. Everything is very pretty.
Gets very sweet in the drydown, which are probably the balsams and the amber doing its work.
When I smell my arm up close, I can smell some cheap and generic Calvin Klein-esque notes.
So this is basically a cK fragrance where they added high quality balsams and florals to make it smell expensive. As it dries down the amber gets on the foreground and the rest slowly disappears.
This is how I envision what a gold digger must smell like.
The cK base as a reference to her past as a random girl.
The rich florals and balsams coming into her life when she married the millionaire.
Dhajala starts off dressed in gold and light and ends in a brown shade.
The opening is clear and appealing: fruity and nectarous, equal parts juicy pineapple and gum drop. The notes don’t really explain the sensation, except that one of the mystery base notes tonkiphora balsam turns out to be a co-distillation of benzoin and opoponax, and oppoponax often has a candied orange aspect – but I’m guessing. However, try to locate the jasmine, pink pepper or some of the other notes and you’ll probably need to imagine them – yep, this is thoroughly blended.
We are in a kind of Badgley Mischka ballpark in terms of genre – golden, dripping, juicy seductive fruitiness – even though Dhajala has no specific resemblance to the former.
The drydown has almondy hints of heliotropin and a seriously mellow amber; here the sensation is even more seriously blended, this is perfumery of the triple-milled variety. (One of the base notes is Myroswelia balsam – a lolly for anyone who can tell me what this creature is, the great god Google proclaims ignorance.) Much of the lusciousness that was so tempting is gone and Dhajala becomes quite sedate and disappointingly soft.
So, although a pleasing wear from start to finish, Dhajala lacks that something ravishing that would make me want to part with the cash required.