Elysium

There is something deeply nostalgic and evocative about Italian pastry-making. Pan d’Arancio—a moist, enveloping cake in which whole oranges, peel and all, are blended into a golden batter—is a small alchemical wonder of Mediterranean kitchens. As it bakes, its aroma fills the house with citrusy warmth, transporting us to sun-drenched Sicilian gardens. This multisensory experience becomes the muse for Pan d’Arancio, one of the latest creations by Profumeria Artistica. A poetic act of olfactory translation, the fragrance transforms a culinary memory into a sophisticated scent, reinterpreting traditional sweetness through the lens of artisanal perfumery.

Here is my olfactory immersion. From the moment Pan d’Arancio touches the skin, it becomes a journey: you are transported to a Sicilian garden at dawn, dew clinging to petals as the rising sun begins to warm the ripening fruit. The fragrance opens with a radiant burst of sweet orange—more than just fruity, it’s edible and succulent, like candied peel releasing essential oils under your fingertips. Sparkling bergamot lends a lively brightness, while candied lemon introduces an unexpected softness, rounding out the citrus accord with the jubilance of a Mediterranean carnival. It’s an olfactory overture that dazzles—decisive, romantic, and utterly novel.

As the fragrance deepens, a refined floral heart emerges. Orange blossom—far from a supporting note—takes center stage with its creamy sweetness, merging seamlessly with a rose plucked at dawn, still glistening with dew. White floral notes complete the tableau, offering an almost sacred innocence that veils the skin in gentleness. This middle phase is a quiet bloom of elegance, where rose and orange blossom entwine while hints of candied citrus linger delicately in the background.

Eventually, the fragrance settles into its true soul. In the dry-down, silky white musk lays a soft foundation, while creamy vanilla unfurls in voluptuous spirals. Caramel—never cloying, always refined—acts as an architectural element, adding warmth, structure, and depth to the composition. The result is an enveloping, edible softness that feels both intimate and luminous.

Longevity is impressive, leaving an evolving trail of citrusy sweetness and creamy nuance for hours. The sillage is subtle yet unmistakable—like a whispered secret only scent-lovers can hear. Best Seasons are Spring and Summer. The bright citrus and floral notes sing in warm air, especially at sunrise or sunset. Also lovely in Fall, where vanilla, caramel, and musk add a cozy, edible depth. Winter use is more niche, but for those who enjoy citrus-gourmand contrast, it becomes “sunshine in a bottle.” Consider layering it with a richer scent to enhance warmth and projection.

While it pays homage to its muse— Devotion Eau de Parfum—Pan d’Arancio is no mere imitation. It is an artistic reimagining: a fragrance born from familiar emotion, yet one that ventures into unexplored olfactory terrain. This is more than a scent—it is a place, a memory, a moment rebottled and reborn. With Pan d’Arancio, the boundary between aroma and story dissolves, and memory becomes art.

Based on a bottle purchased in May 2025 (BC 01525191)

— Elysium

There is a moment when skin meets fragrance where alchemy transcends chemistry—where molecules become memory, and spray becomes story. Arabian Shine orchestrates this transformation with the precision of a master perfumer who understands that luxury isn’t worn—it’s inhabited.

The Opening Act: Tropical Insurgency. The first contact is immediate and misleading—pineapple and red berries burst forth with the audacity of tropical sunlight. An intensely fruity blast, tart, with both traditional and tropical types. But this isn’t the sugary nostalgia of beach holidays. Instead, the perfumer crafts a more complex dance, where some cold spices crackle like distant lightning, sparking tension across the scent’s bright surface. It is thick, dense, and opulent. The pineapple behaves like liquid amber catching fire—its sweetness flickers on the edge of ripeness and fermentation, never tipping into either. And the berries shimmer with electric intensity, their pigments bleeding not just into color but into memory itself. The spices don’t just accent; they interrogate, challenging the fruit in a dialogue that hovers between comfort and complexity, settling somewhere between your heartbeat and your next breath. The blend of fruits and spices creates a disruptive opening.

The Heart’s Architecture: Rose as Protagonist. As the tropical overture softens, a deeper structure rises. Bulgarian and Turkish roses don’t simply bloom—they build, forming the emotional architecture of the scent. These aren’t roses from greeting cards or a grandmother’s vanity; these are roses with lineage and intent, grassy, sticky, marmalade-like. You might catch some grassy floral like magnolia and jasmine if you have a trained nose. A touch of saffron provides the oriental touch, with no dominance or intrusiveness.

The Bulgarian variety brings the gravity of mountain soil—damascene and mineral, touched with the shadows of its highland origins. In contrast, the Turkish rose unfolds with honeyed opulence, forming golden bridges between the heart and the scent’s eventual resting place. Magnolia and jasmine sambac orbit these central florals like satellites—magnolia’s lemony clarity cutting through the warmth like shafts of light, while jasmine introduces an animalic murmur that makes the skin feel suddenly alive.I am not wrong if I associated the smell and the taste to Turkish rose lokum.

The Temporal Unfurling: Base as Destination. What makes Arabian Shine exceptional is not just its structure, but its relationship with time. The base notes don’t anchor so much as evolve, like sediment settling slowly in water—revealing layers with each hour passed. Amber pulses with a prehistoric warmth, its labdanum core radiating from within rather than sitting on top of the skin. Vanilla doesn’t sweeten—it enfolds, wrapping the body in a softened hush that turns sensation inward. Cashmere wood murmurs of luxury, not as display, but as intimacy—like slipping into a second skin. Sandal offers the framework, holding the composition in tension, while moss—oh, that moss—seeps in at the edges like memory itself. It grounds the sweetness in earth and decay, a reminder that beauty and impermanence walk hand in hand.

Arabian Shine doesn’t just smell beautiful—it makes your skin feel seen. Its interaction with natural sebum creates a slow-burning intimacy, where fragrance and flesh blur until they’re indistinguishable. Hours later, when you catch a trace from a collar or sleeve, it doesn’t feel like a perfume you wore. It feels like a secret your body’s been keeping. The sillage is subtle yet atmospheric. This isn’t projection—it’s presence. Those who enter your space won’t just smell something pleasing; they’ll pause, breathe differently, and sense that something quietly extraordinary has occurred. While Arabian Shine doesn't have honey listed in its official notes, I feel the scent as having a "honeyed" quality, particularly in the dry down, due to the combination of vanilla, amber, and caramelized fruits I guess.

In an era of algorithmic beauty and instant gratification, Arabian Shine feels like a quiet rebellion. It refuses to shout. Instead, it rewards patience, attention, and the willingness to listen as the story unfolds—note by note, hour by hour. This is fragrance as literature: layered, unpredictable, emotionally resonant. Perhaps Arabian Shine’s greatest triumph lies in how it dismisses traditional boundaries. This unisex oriental floral doesn’t merely cross gender lines—it dissolves them. It understands that desire, like scent, resists categorization. Seasons? Transcendent—equally at home in winter’s introspection or summer’s abandon. For moments when you want to feel like the most interesting version of yourself.

I wrote my opinions based on a bottle I've owned since June 2025.

-Elysium

Picture this: you’re standing in the heart of Pamplona, where ancient cobblestones catch the morning sun and the air crackles with anticipation. Every July, this sleepy Spanish city awakens with a thunderous roar—not from cathedral bells, but from the chupinazo rocket that signals the start of San Fermín. What follows is pure magic. The narrow medieval streets, usually serene, suddenly pulse with life as crowds dressed in brilliant white and crimson flood every corner. It’s that extraordinary moment when reverence meets recklessness, when centuries of tradition collide with modern-day madness.
And then, just after dawn breaks, you hear it—the thundering hooves echoing through the twisting alleyways. The Running of the Bulls transforms the entire city into a living, breathing arena. Hundreds of brave souls test their mettle against charging bulls, their hearts pounding as fast as their feet on those timeworn stones.

That energy—raw, electric, beautiful chaos—is what first drew me to Encantado Pamplona, a fragrance I’ve worn since May 2025. One glance at the bottle and I was hooked. Those bold strokes of red and white against midnight black—it felt like glimpsing the festival through an artist’s eye. The sea of white shirts and red scarves, the movement, the adrenaline, all captured in glass. But what does this festival feel like on the skin?

From the moment Encantado Pamplona alights upon the skin, it announces itself not with a shout, but with a confident hum. The opening bursts alive: sparkling citrus—zesty lime, sharp grapefruit, and sunlit lemon—fizzes across the senses like champagne bubbles in the morning air. A snap of cracked black pepper cuts through, adding just enough bite to make the brightness feel precise, not playful.

As the top notes fade, the fragrance's heart unfurls: vetiver, rich and grounding. But this isn’t the dusty, rooty vetiver you may know. Here, it’s fresh and multifaceted—like roots pulled from damp earth after rain, still cool and mineralic. There’s a flinty edge, even a faint spark of gunpowder, giving it a bold, almost elemental quality. The citrus lingers, softened now, a steady glow filtering through aromatic foliage. It’s a dance between energy and restraint, nature and polish.

In the drydown, Encantado Pamplona reveals its soul. The vetiver mellows, joined by warm amberwood—smooth, resinous, and quietly powerful. There’s a whisper of dry hay here, adding a pastoral elegance. The scent settles into the skin like sun-warmed timber, refined yet deeply rooted. It becomes not just something you wear, but something you inhabit.

For me, this fragrance shines brightest in the cooler months of autumn and winter, when its earthy richness comes alive. But its freshness offers a quietly confident lift even in early spring on crisp mornings. It’s too commanding for sweltering summer days, yet a cool evening could welcome its embrace.

Encantado Pamplona is more than a scent. It’s a bottled reckoning—the exhilaration of racing bulls down a cobbled street, the calm that follows when you realize you’re still standing, heart pounding, spirit alight. It’s elegance in motion, a wild tradition tamed just enough to wear.

I wrote my thoughts based on a bottle I’ve owned since May 2025.

-Elysium

This olfactory composition unfolds like a cinematic sequence filmed in golden hour—citrus landscapes slowly giving way to shadowed groves touched by amber moonlight. From first contact with skin, it orchestrates a symphony of contrasts: brightness and depth, joy and introspection, morning’s effervescence and dusk’s quiet mystery.

Opulent Dubai begins with a sunlit flourish. Grapefruit bursts forward—crystalline, tart—a living citrus spark that slices through coastal fog. It’s less fruit than moment: a window thrown open to a sea breeze at dawn. Lemon follows not as background, but as conductor—its sharp clarity threading through the grapefruit like a golden filament. It hums with ripe sweetness, balancing brightness with warmth, acidity with roundness. Mango glows quietly in the wings, soft and luscious, a smooth contrast to the citrus edge. Imagine the weight of ripe fruit in your hand, sun-warmed, its scent already imprinting on memory.
Then ginger. Not raw or brash, but finely faceted—like spiced crystal. It lifts everything skyward, magnetic rather than hot. A breath of distant spice markets, of warmth brushing skin, connecting the tropics to the soul. It’s this note that gives the fragrance life—not just radiance, but soulfulness. Together, these notes don’t just evoke a morning; they become one—a sun-drenched orchard, a perfect cocktail, a stolen moment of summer suspended in air. The opening manifests as a solar flare piercing skin with a tropical tempest's force.

As brightness recedes, a shift begins. You feel it before you smell it—like stepping from sun into a shaded grove. Cedarwood emerges with calm gravitas. It doesn’t dominate; it grounds. There’s a gentle smokiness to it, like wood that remembers firelight, or the scent of a beloved book’s spine—quiet, intelligent warmth. It creates structure, not scaffolding. Jasmine unfurls—not sultry or overwhelming, but pale and weightless, like moonlight through lace. It floats above the cedar, spectral and serene, more memory than flower. You don’t wear it—it brushes past. Violet adds a wistful touch. Not the powdered elegance of vintage perfumes, but something gentler, nostalgic—like the scent of an old letter unfolded after decades. It’s more papery than powdery. There’s a pause here, a breath. This heart isn’t about drama. It’s about emotion.
As the scent deepens, it settles into itself. Ambergris appears like a second skin—warm, intimate, quietly powerful. No ocean spray—only the feeling of being known. It doesn’t sit on you; it merges.
Benzoin follows with quiet devotion—resinous sweetness more sacred than sugary. You sense rituals, the hush of sacred spaces. Hints of spice and smoke flicker at the edges—cinnamon? almond? Something ancient, tasted only once. Then oakmoss—deep, earthy, timeless. The scent of shadowed stone and moss under fingertips, in a place where no footsteps echo. A sacred cave in a forgotten forest. It roots the fragrance in something old, something eternal. Finally, the woods return—not the crisp cedar of the heart, but darker, fuller. Creamy sandalwood and a brush of patchouli—impressionistic, not literal. They linger like echoes. The fragrance doesn’t end so much as dissolve into the self.

Where Erba Pura lingers on surface-level fruitiness, Opulent Dubai dares to descend into shadow, into memory. It awakens hidden truths and ancestral desires. Projection is confident but never loud—people lean in. Longevity is impressive: hours later, there’s still a whisper, warm and low, like the memory of a perfect day.
This is no simple citrus. It’s a meditation on light and shadow. On transition. On memory.
Through thoughtful composition and restrained opulence, Opulent Dubai redefines what citrus can be—elevated, introspective, and eternal.

Impression based on personal bottle, acquired June 2025.

—Elysium

Let me hear the sweetest of voices. Something is spellbinding about Incantesimo. It’s more than a perfume, it’s an enchanted whisper that slips into the senses and caresses memory. An olfactory journey through the realm of contemporary gourmand begins with familiar notes only to subvert them gently, weaving mystery and sophistication throughout.

From the very first spray, Incantesimo wraps around you like a soft veil. The sweetness is layered and subtle—it doesn’t burst forth, but rather drifts in, creamy and serene. Amber blends with a touch of silken, slightly boozy rum, creating a tactile atmosphere, almost as if you could touch the scent. Resinous undertones add a sacred, balsamic depth, evoking ancient rituals and incense, while the gourmand core recalls both childhood delights and adult seduction. It briefly echoes Angels' Share Eau de Parfum, but only for a moment—Incantesimo speaks in its voice.

Incantesimo begins a slow, hypnotic metamorphosis as it settles on the skin. A nuanced bouquet unfolds: the soft powderiness of vintage lipsticks intertwines with a lighter, more elusive vanilla, shaped by tropical resins and a hint of airy balsamic freshness. Tonka bean lends a subtle bitterness—almond and hay—while a gentle jasmine note introduces a discreet femininity that anchors the composition. The sweetness is never cloying; it is held in tension, ever-changing, always alive.

In the dry-down, Incantesimo reveals its most intimate character. Vetiver brings a green, mineral edge that cuts through the lingering sweetness, adding elegance.A powdery finish suggests bare skin lightly perfumed, while creamy sandalwood bridges the composition, grounding it. The resins remain, whispering, closing the circle with quiet depth.

A scent that speaks softly, Incantesimo does not shout. It lingers, unforgettable. A mature gourmand, complex and composed, it plays with nostalgia and seduction, softness and shadow. It transforms the act of perfuming into a quiet ritual, thoughtful, sensuous, and contemplative. Best suited to colder seasons, it’s perfect for those who seek sweetness with nuance and depth. Its performance is respectable, yet intimate. It stays close to the skin, leaving a soft, personal trail. It doesn’t demand attention, but invites closeness.

A scent that stays with you. Like a whispered song. Like a spell.

Based on a bottle purchased in April 2025 (BC 12524383).

— Elysium