Nikolai

Taif T04 is actually not a scent I would have immediately associated with myself. I don't consider myself someone who can wear dominant oud, and to be honest - I don't particularly like it either. However, I have no general aversion to oud, just to clarify!

So when I stumbled upon Taif al Emarat and clicked through the various creations, I was almost sad that a large part of the Taifs apparently has a very strong oriental touch and all of them ooze oud and sharp spices, which really doesn't suit my taste and probably doesn't suit me either.
However, I eventually came across Taif T04. Honey is usually a reason for a blind buy for me; I totally love the smell of honey, and the rather unusual combination with oud and a generally (at least for me) unconventional note of cranberry piqued my curiosity. The mentioned ingredients were already enough for me, and I can't really make anything of Prunus dasycarpa, and the base notes didn't stand out to me while reading.

In my search for where and especially at what price I could get a bottle of the yellow elixir, I initially thought my dream was shattered. Almost 100€ for 75ml is well below my pain threshold - 93€ for shipping from the UAE unfortunately is not.

However, through a very fortunate interplay of some unlikely coincidences, I actually managed to hold half a bottle of T04 in my hand the very next day, without having to pay the horrendous shipping costs.

But now, after this rather lengthy backstory, let's get to a few short praises for the bottle and the scent itself:

The bottle is high-quality, heavy, and looks very appealing. The racing yellow liquid, in my opinion, does not match the otherwise so noble presentation of the whole thing, but it is compensated by the excellent sprayer and the great, elaborate packaging.

And now to the scent:
When I spray T04 on my skin, I primarily smell a note unmistakably and naked, in all its fullness. Oud. To my delight, it did not repel me but hit the mark perfectly. This oud behaves like oud that I highly appreciate. It is less biting and animalistic, more woody and airy, without having even a hint of mustiness. In fact, the top note of Taif unmistakably reminds me strongly of Oud Wood Eau de Parfum.
This is probably not for animalic fanatics and oud purists, who will still find something in the portfolio of Taif al Emarat.

I waited with excitement for the honey, which, to my disappointment, does not come across as sweet and full-bodied as I had hoped. However, this is probably nothing but a gain for the scent. A honey like in a honey jar would probably pose the danger of being completely swept away by this sweetness combined with vanilla into the mass of sweet-woody gourmands. Because that is exactly what T04 is not: sweet.

Sure, it is probably sweeter than fresh and sweeter than smoky or biting leathery, but really sweet? No.

I would primarily attribute the characteristic of balance to this scent. Balanced in the sense that "all notes are similarly perceptible," as well as balanced in terms of the fragrance pyramid and its development: For me, after a while, there is no clear division into top, heart, and base notes. Upon application, it is clear - the oud dominates at first, honey, cranberry (also not sweet, rather herb-bitter) join in, but do not replace the oud. Likewise, none of the base note parts replace any of the preceding notes. In the drydown, the scent merely complements itself with fragments of its DNA and ends with a harmonious coexistence of all the listed notes. I only detect a slight imbalance between the oud - which is already the most dominant ingredient by a small margin - and patchouli, which I unfortunately can hardly sniff at all.

Regarding longevity: top-notch. The T04 remains perceptible on the skin all day long, even for oneself, and does not become unpleasant.

Regarding sillage: at most upper mid-range. Strangely, the sillage is less impressive in contrast to the excellent longevity. It is not weak, but you have to be quite close to actually perceive the scent.

Without having tested other Taif al Emarat fragrances, I can imagine that T04 is the softest and most pleasing, at least from this line. However, it is not a crowd-pleaser, as I have received very mixed reactions to it. If you are looking for the total oriental spice bomb or the primal instinct-triggering oud overkill, T04 is not for you.
If you want a scent that is quite extraordinary in Germany, which unmistakably has an oriental flair and definitely requires a few attempts to appreciate, T04 is probably a good choice. I advise anyone who has the opportunity to buy or trade without the criminal shipping costs: go for it!

Oh, by the way, I find it relatively distinctly masculine, but with the right aura, it can also be worn by a woman!

Spray To Play is of course neither on the level of "Kirkè | Tiziana Terenzi" in terms of presentation, packaging, or bottle - and thus also far
below the price level.

Nevertheless, I can't help but constantly compare this Rossman cheapie with the aforementioned Terenzi, and the similarities just won't leave my mind, or rather my nose.

Spray to Play kicks off just like Kirké, bursting forth upon application. One is hit with a heavily sweetened fruit basket filled with all sorts of ripe, juicy fruits, lacking neither intensity nor presence. However, Kirké feels much more complex from the very beginning; in direct comparison, it definitely lacks the pear and the fine nuances that emerge repeatedly through blackcurrant and passion fruit in Kirké.

As expected, Spray to Play doesn't really develop further. On one hand, the rather average longevity of only a few hours doesn't allow for long-term evolution, and on the other hand, the YouTube fragrance probably doesn't hide much more than what is already clearly in the foreground shortly after application. Rather, all components of the fragrance pyramid here lean towards sweetness, with musk and vanilla also reducing to just that.
For me, Spray to Play smells almost permanently of pineapple and peach (or nectarine, who can really tell the difference?!) with added sweetness.

Whether it's the knowledge that Spray to Play was created by a beauty YouTuber for her predominantly female fans, or the actual subtle differences in the DNA (osmanthus and tiare, but no patchouli) - it simply comes across as more feminine than the expensive counterpart, and likely one would get strange looks as a man if heavily doused in Spray to Play. Still, that's a matter of taste; many also claim that Kirké is more of a women's fragrance.

There’s no need for lengthy words about the bottle. With a price tag of €16, no wonders should be expected. Nevertheless, it does come across as extraordinarily cheap in its entirety.

All in all, it still presents a nice alternative to my beloved Kirké for a tenth of the price. No, they don't smell the same, but there are indeed many similarities and strong commonalities that cannot be denied. Spray to Play still runs the risk of sinking into the swamp of fruity-sweet women's fragrances, whereas Kirké avoids doom with just a touch of originality.

Space Cake is a strangely divisive fragrance. It's not that the DNA and development itself are particularly polarizing. Rather, it's because the scent evokes clear associations and brings forth firmly anchored childhood memories, with most perceiving this fragrance as pleasant and delicious, and practically everyone being familiar with this smell.
However, probably very few have ever smelled it as a perfume, or even thought that such a scent could be found outside the kitchen or bakery and still be pleasant and meaningful.

As has likely become clear and is also suggested by the name, this is about cake batter.

Anyone who isn't attentive and curious about the fragrance pyramid, I truly cannot understand in the slightest. Somehow, the scent notes clearly indicate what to expect, but I still had a hard time imagining what a Space Cake should smell like and whether the notes are actually balanced enough to smell like cake.

However, upon application, Space Cake truly smells like cake batter, perhaps with a cube of yeast that has fallen in a bit too much. A sweetness, created by the icing, vanilla, and benzoin, quickly joins in, but it is never too present and only really stands out in the "after-smell" (my equivalent to aftertaste ;)). I can't specifically pick out the salted butter mentioned above, but it likely supports the overall composition, and its absence would certainly be noticeable.
I was genuinely surprised at how realistic and clearly identifiable the Space Cake smells, and I find the idea of a cake scent simply brilliant. It transports you back to the time as a child when you tried to snag leftovers of fresh, unbaked cake batter in the kitchen. The cannabis hardly disrupts this association, as it really only subtly influences the overall composition. If one is looking for a perfume that smells like cannabis and radiates stoner vibes, Space Cake is definitely not the right choice.

Unfortunately, for me, the cake has a bit too much of that certain something that so many otherwise great fragrances lack (e.g. Voulez-vous coucher avec Moi). I can't clearly identify which note bothers me here and disrupts the otherwise really successful and pleasant cake scent, but I suspect it's the already mentioned yeast. Either there is simply too much yeast present, or - this is my personal impression - it is designed too synthetically intense, so that it does not reflect the fresh yeast in a real dough. The disturbing factor here is a bitter-mushroomy note that disrupts the delicious cake association.

Interestingly, there is an earthiness in the base note that provides a pleasant alternative to the usual woods as a base. Strangely, it does not disturb my association with fragrant cake batter, as it appears warm and sweet, and although it becomes more prominent over time, it does not dominate. However, it is still so prevalent that I would clearly categorize the scent as earthy. In my opinion, the earth note represents the actually very strong balance of the perfume, which I find quite remarkable due to the unconventional scent notes. Even after hours and with the increasing presence of the earth, mixed with a subtle and pleasant cannabis note, the unmistakable smell of cake batter does not fade at all. You can really tell that time and know-how have been invested in this fragrance, and it has been thoughtfully designed with a focus on balancing the notes and harmony within itself - at least that's my impression.

As strange as it may seem for such an outrageous perfume, the whole thing comes across as exceedingly high-quality with a pronounced sense of quality. This ranges from the ingredients and the scent itself (it is an Extrait de Parfum!), to the bottle and the sprayer - which sprays finer and better than some premium sprayers (... umm Creed *cough cough*) - to the truly grand packaging, designed in the style of a plastic cover from VHS tapes from the 80s. The image of the bottle here on Parfumo does not do it justice at all. The cap is heavy and cool, high-quality and visually appealing. Only the print, in my opinion, evokes the association with a cheap fragrance that can be bought for a tenner in a trendy new CBD store.

All in all, I love the idea of the fragrance. The vibe and spirit, which are further enhanced by the packaging, have been implemented here with real thoughtfulness and taste (except for the print, argh).
The longevity of Space Cake is good; it is still somewhat perceptible after a long workday. The sillage, on the other hand, is outstanding - even with just a single spray, you radiate this scent and are well and long perceived by those around you.

Whether one really wants to smell like cake every day is up to each individual. Personally, I wouldn't want to, but I would definitely wear the scent occasionally to radiate attention and openness. It is definitely worth a test for every perfume nerd, and I can imagine that quite a few people would at least like to have a decant for special occasions where it makes sense to smell like cake with a subtle earthy cannabis touch.
A sharing could really be worthwhile!

With "VaneXstasy | Maison Tahité," I expected an ultra-heavy vanilla gourmand, something on the level of "Tobacco Vanille (Eau de Parfum) | Tom Ford."
A typical scent that reminds one of Christmas, unbearable in summer, and pleasantly overwhelming.

I was completely surprised by how it turned out. VaneXstasy starts very unobtrusively and rather unspectacularly. Coconut is relatively clear to recognize, especially once you know it.
Honestly, I don't smell any caramel here.
But vanilla is present from the very beginning. However, here came the surprise for me. I don't perceive the vanilla as I find it in all the sweet fragrances ("Tobacco Vanille (Eau de Parfum) | Tom Ford," "Layton | Parfums de Marly," and so on). VaneXstasy reminds me more from the first moment of sticking my nose into a jar of vanilla pods that have not been cut or scraped.

In contrast to seemingly many others here, I perceive this vanilla note as extremely natural. Completely free of artificial sweetness and far from vanilla sugar, as some describe this scent. The woods form a nice base for the fragrance and complement the impression of the natural, plant-based vanilla pod without really standing out in the foreground.

All in all, VaneXstasy unfolds very linearly. I don't perceive any significant scent development; it remains practically the same from the spray to the dry down until it disappears. Only a tiny bit of sweetness joins in over time.
For me, this is quite positive; I really like the scent with its lifelike quality, and it creates a sense of confidence and calm, as one always knows how one smells, even when one can't smell oneself.

The Tahité is a great opportunity for me to wear vanilla outside of winter without immediately standing out. A way to wear a bit of confidence and uniqueness without imposing on the surroundings.

To say a quick word about the bottle: I find the simple yet thoughtful brown bottle extremely beautiful and handy, and it looks very appealing in a collection. The price-performance ratio is also top-notch at around €90 for 100ml!

I became aware of this fragrance, with the questionable name that I, as a non-French speaker, constantly misspell and have therefore decided not to write out at all, through a very friendly perfume sales associate who had the Kilian in the souk.

In principle, I am a fan of floral scents, and a rose or tuberose in the fragrance pyramid gives a scent a bonus point in my book.

However, I am always curious about how well my favorite notes harmonize with the other fragrance notes, how well they are balanced, and whether they surpass or complement each other.
Unfortunately, I was somewhat disappointed by Kilian here, or at least not positively surprised or amazed.

I do perceive my two favorites, the rose and the tuberose, quite strongly and practically throughout the entire development of the fragrance, but rather in isolation. A hint of ylang-ylang is present for a few minutes, as is possibly jasmine. The gardenia may well be strongly perceptible, but perhaps I just can't distinguish it well from tuberose.
The woods and vanilla are, as expected, not perceptible in the top note, but they form a nice base after a few hours that, while not really adding anything special to the fragrance, does make it a bit more lasting. Rose and tuberose remain consistently present and are also somewhat far-reaching and not just close to the skin.

The overall longevity is acceptable; it is definitely noticeable for several hours, but it doesn't have a great sillage like "Atomic Rose | Initio".

The fragrance is relatively clearly classified as feminine in the community, which I can understand, but do not necessarily confirm. Sure, such a floral scent without edges and corners is less masculine than many others, and when you spray it on, you might briefly wonder if you would assign the fragrance more to your girlfriend.
Nevertheless, I associate the scent with a well-dressed, stylish, and self-confident younger man, perhaps when going out, at balls, or at fancier events. I would put it this way: as a women's fragrance, Kilian may be rather unremarkable and face stiff competition within its own ranks regarding attractiveness and presence, but as a man, you can certainly stand out when wearing it and exude a degree of self-confidence, openness, and taste for the unconventional.