Dolby

Here’s the dilemma … It doesn’t smell bad, as in BAD.
It’s very sweet and fruity.
A big gourmand with a hefty dose of citrus.
BUT
It belongs more in the Britney/Paris realm, and if the price tag was to match this lot, I would be inclined to accept it as it is, even though it wouldn’t be part of my perfume wardrobe in a million years.

The problem I have here, is that this is an expensive niche and I just don’t get why somebody would fork out the big bucks to smell like one of those uber sugary and artificial Victoria’s Secret body sprays. Beats me.

The drydown is somehow less in your face simply because the glow in the dark fruit salad aspect has had time to dissipate a bit. It’s still present, but less dominant, having reluctantly ceded the front stage to a syrupy milky concoction.
See Dulce de Leche for reference.

All in all though, still, nothing much to write home about, and now that I think of it, it's pretty damn similar to Fancy by Jessica Simpson.
Save your $$ and go for this instead.

Shams is the Arabic word for “Sun”.
I guess it makes perfect sense since this fragrance is all about hot and spicy ingredients, mingling together to form a rather attractive masculine.
My friend K had been insisting so much that I test it that I decided to keep it for last.
Not in any way to be awkward, but simply because I was having such an underwhelming experience with the house's offerings that I chanced on the opportunity to perhaps keep the best for last.
Sorry about the wait K xx

The first thing to hit is an energising burst of black pepper nicely supported in its piquancy by a touch of ginger.
It soon goes away and is seamlessly replaced by a complex and wet woody aroma, reminiscent of the cool and pungent undergrowth of a forest during its autumnal phase.

What I specifically enjoy is the unusual choice of incense note here, namely Russian Paper (and not papyrus).
I suspect (and hope I’m not wrong) that it is another name for Papier d’Armenie, a very traditional air purifying method born in the late 19th century whereby a piece of paper soaked in styrax and benzoin and left to dry would be set alight and left to burn out.
Oddly enough, the resulting odour would be a strange mix of charred smoky paper and dusty incense.

Shams could have quickly descended into a potentially problematic stuffy and linear vibe caused by a measurable dose of the above, but thankfully, it is alleviated by the grounding multi-facetted addition of Oud.

Probably wouldn’t wear it, but certainly interesting and I can imagine, rather lush on the right man.

One word to you Memo: Alleluia!

As I sprayed, the first whiff did animate me, albeit very briefly, because, after the correctly allocated time for the alcohol to evaporate (never understand people who spray and sniff practically in unison … Are they from a special sector of humankind, born with asbestos nostrils? I wonder)
… anyway, I eagerly approached my olfactory organ to my denuded forearm … and recoiled in horror.

Boy does it stink!
Plastic coconut and red rose toilet spray anyone?
This can’t be for real.

Memo, Memo, Memo, what are you doing?
A house with measlier quality offerings I have yet to find.
Fair enough, I have never sniffed the Paris Hilton of this world, but please spare me.

The very odd aspect of this scent is that it is rather lovely … from afar.
Ok, you may be thinking “what is she on now?”, but truly, it isn’t the first time that I experience this:
Reeks up close, delights at a distance.

Indeed, from afar, it translates as a gourmand powdery rose.
Not bad at all, but then, no can do I’m afraid.
I mean, how are we meant to wear this?
Walk around whilst flapping our arms wildly? Because if you wish to attract stares chillier than Iceland’s freezer section from the fellows around you and risk ending up in the local loony bin as a result, go right ahead.
Personally, I’ll pass.

… An hour has gone by.
It has greatly tamed down, and is now a perfectly pleasant warm and cosy rose fragrance.
Unfortunately, the opening makes me shudder … still.

On opening, Jannat walks very much along the same lines of a traditional Eau de Cologne both in terms of behaviour and characteristics.
Very fresh and citrusy.

Like an Eau de Cologne, you also have to spray a ton of it on to get any substantial effect, because it very quickly turns into a comfortable and enjoyable aromatic skin scent, in this instance of clean Clary Sage with a slight spicy undertone.

You would be wrong to think that this being an Eau de Parfum compensated for anything.
It doesn’t, and I dread to think what it would be like in thinner concentrations.

Keep your money and get yourself some good old EdC because not only will you obtain the same result, but it will also save you from paling at the sight of the price tag for something that is, although pleasant, certainly not worth it.

Could there be some light, at long last, at the end of the Memo tunnel?
Perhaps.
To be fair, this is a pretty safe composition, but the result is rather charming, if not groundbreaking, but then again, not all perfumes can be.

The opening is fresh, acidulated and zingy, reminiscent of the excitement one would feel when meeting face to face with a polar bear for the first time.
My nose tells me that the experience is taking place at a safe distance indeed, since I can report that it’s a sweet joy with no indoles.

The head notes are quickly mislaid and pushed aside by Ms Jasmine, who, like a frigid woman (It’s freaking cold in the North Pole after all) melting under the gentle, attentive, and experienced caresses of her lover lets herself be transported by the warm and comforting envelop of a cosy and dreamy moment.

Nice … If you’re a fan of Ms J. of course.