Do you believe the stories about stinky feet and cow barns are true? I'm afraid I have to disappoint you, they are completely made up.
Who doesn’t know the relevant statements? But who is mistaken here? And is Mamluk perhaps even the better Ceylon? Let’s try to find out.
First of all, I want to point out that noses are definitely different, and depending on how experienced one is in the realm of "Orientals not tailored for the Western market," there can indeed be huge disagreements. However, to return to the admittedly provocative headline, I want to clarify that I cannot associate or interpret anything of the sort, although I do understand what some might perceive as "harsh" notes. At the same time, I want to alleviate the fears of those who might not have dared to approach these Orientals at all. The only thing that I believe is likely to truly shock here is the price...
But jokes aside. For those who find the scent really too extreme, it should be noted that there may be a more tolerable alternative. And that even from the same house. I am, of course, referring to Mamluk, also from the eponymous Oud-Stars line, and thus it is not unjustly often compared to Ceylon, which I will also briefly juxtapose. In parallel, I would also like to refer to my review of "Mamluk | XerJoff".
The most important points summarized:
Right from the opening, a dominant honey note spreads. This comes across in Ceylon as distinct and not overly sweet, as it simultaneously starts with sour-animalic notes. These are mainly formed from the Oud-musk mix and are slightly intensified by the acidity of bergamot. The musk itself is somewhat piercing here compared to Mamluk and is clearly on the animalic and less on the clean side. Malay Oud, if really used, is known for having edges and corners. By that, I don’t mean the edges of the agarwood chips, but rather the somewhat uneven and distinctive scent character. This certainly provides a certain depth and a slightly dark touch. Although the namesake of the scent is actually Ceylon tea, it must be clearly stated that this is consistently subordinate to the honey. As the scent develops, increasingly dry spices come into play. Definitely cinnamon. Perhaps even Ceylon cinnamon, as found in Xerjoff's Luxor. Soft woods and a sweet-bitter aromatic black tea aroma follow. This combination makes Ceylon very dense and simultaneously creates a wonderful warmth on the skin. After a few hours, a slightly sweet-balsamic base forms, which, however, remains long angular and spicy before it finally rounds off. What remains is a sweet-spicy honey vanilla with still clearly noticeable musk. Interestingly, Ceylon in the drydown is indeed a bit sweeter and less earthy than Mamluk.
Overall, I would describe Ceylon as the somewhat louder, edgier, and above all spicier, and thus more masculine version of Mamluk. Those who like to go all out not only with scents but also with spending money should definitely consider Ceylon. On the other hand, those who prefer something more balanced and finely tuned, seeking more floral notes and significantly fewer animalic hints, should rather focus on Mamluk.
All in all, two really great honey-based Orientals - both deserving of their existence. One is more elegant, the other a bit "wilder."