It was a scent that I couldn't get out of my head. A hint of magic in the air, captured in a moment that wouldn't let me go. I didn't know the person I smelled it on, but I knew immediately: This was exactly what I had been searching for all last summer in vain.
Curious, I approached the stranger. At first, he hesitated, told me about his own blend from Saudi Arabia, leaving me briefly in the dark - as if he wanted to keep the secret to himself. But eventually, he revealed it to me:
Golden Dust Perfume Oil.
I had to have it. Without hesitation, I ordered it blind. Reviews on Parfumo helped me little - often, scents there are broken down into individual notes, leaving an ordinary fragrance lover completely puzzled. Questions arose in my mind like, for example, “What does the scent smell like as a whole?” I wondered. YouTube wasn't much help either; apart from vague promotional videos or vlogs with the core message “awesome,” there was little guidance. So there was only one thing left to do: order and experience it myself.
Two days later, it arrived. I tore open the package, applied the scent immediately - and froze. The smell was familiar to me, but not in the way I had expected. Sweet? Yes. Powdery? Absolutely. Fruity? A little, but not in the way I had imagined. And freshness? Not at all.
But that was not the scent I had smelled on that stranger. Back then, there was a magical composition in the air - powdery-sweet with a fruity spice, a woody freshness, and white flowers. A true masterpiece that couldn't be clearly categorized as feminine or masculine. It reminded me of a mix of "Reflection Man | Amouage," "Erba Pura | XerJoff," and "Sultani / سلطاني | Arabian Oud / العربية للعود" - but without the overwhelming fruitiness of Erba Pura. I had expected a refined, sensual harmony, but instead, I got something else.
Hours passed, and then it hit me like a ton of bricks: Golden Dust smells exactly like "Tarteel Silver / ترتيل فضي | Arabian Oud / العربية للعود," and that one, in turn, bears a strong resemblance to "Salam | Anfas." The realization struck me like a blow. This meant that it was not the scent I had smelled back then. I felt almost cheated - had the stranger intentionally misled me?
As an owner of Tarteel Silver, Salam, and the heavily compared "Casamorati - Dama Bianca (Eau de Parfum) | XerJoff," I could now make a direct comparison. While many claim that Golden Dust resembles Dama Bianca, I could not see that connection at all. Rather, the scent clearly leaned towards Tarteel and Salam, if not even as a direct fragrance twin. Tarteel was a bit sweeter, while Salam was quieter and more reserved. There were hardly any significant differences otherwise.
And so I stood there, slightly disappointed. My search for that perfect scent that captivates me and enchants me continued. But I was sure: I would find it someday.
In the end, my review is probably just as subjective as I had criticized in others at the beginning. But that's exactly what makes the world of fragrances - they are not just a collection of notes, but experiences, memories, emotions.
And despite my brief fall from the euphoria of anticipation to the hard ground of reality, I couldn't say anything bad about the scent. For its price, it is excellent - an affordable alternative to the more expensive originals. My disappointment lay solely in my false expectation.
One point remains, though: Gatekeeping in the fragrance community. Why should one sabotage a shared hobby? Why keep secrets about scents when we all share the same passion? I understand the allure of keeping a unique perfume to oneself - but in the end, it's about enjoyment, about sharing the enthusiasm.
Conclusion:
A wonderful scent for cold days - sweet, creamy, and unobtrusive. Anyone who loves Salam or Tarteel Silver but doesn't want to dig too deep into their pockets can buy this without hesitation.
But my personal search is not over yet. Somewhere out there, my scent is waiting. And I will find it. If I meet that person again, I will ask him again about his secret. Hoping he has changed his mind about gatekeeping.
In this sense, take care.