Al Rehab Pearl fragrance notes
We have no fragrance notes for this fragrance – if you know them, let us know!Latest Reviews of Al Rehab Pearl
The poetic parallels between global fascinations with (crude) oil reserves in the Middle East and the increasing turn in perfume industries worldwide toward Middle Eastern aesthetics are fascinating and worth deeper consideration. The word is attar,' referring to powerful oil blends, often characterized with oud and rose. Al-Rehab is a prolific producer of such attar oils, based in Jeddah which has been considered by Al Bawaba news earlier this year as high among the top ten cities under massive and expensive redevelopment in Saudi Arabia. The influence of these longstanding Arabian approaches to perfumes oils have impacted contemporary offerings from most international brands in recent years.
I've sampled many of Al Rehab's oils, and in all cases they've been warming with intense sillage and interpretations of wood notes that feel sticky with glaze. These are some of the traditions and trends that guide Al Rehab's overall tastes. I'd guess that there are some love-it-or-leave-it thresholds in the potencies by which these attars are defined.
Rarely does packaging so affect my perception of a fragrance as Al Rehab's Pearl Attar. The gold and red heart-shaped vial is ornamented in arabesque scrollwork and rhinestones, befitting a globe trekking adventure in Liberace stylings. I feel like I'm Sailor Moon mid-transformation, Wonder Woman with mythic artifacts by way of twentieth century camp, or the happy recipient of a genie's lamp. All that glitters isn't gold, but glittering in yellow foils and red fake gems it does, to fabulous effect.
Pearl is a gourmand blast so strong in caramel qualities, it's sweetness veers into a hallucination of sour sharpness, picking up hints of roses and other floralcy. While overdose' is a popular description for modern scents crammed with one or another heavy note, Pearl is so candied it transgresses into a beyond-sweet daydream, and that's where its interest lies. Past the rich vanilla buttercream is a blend of woods, flowers, and musk.
I don't really know what to make of my own attraction to perfumes strong in vanilla that I think would be improved with considerably less of it (except that my father wore Joop! when I was growing up; don't worry, regularly on the couch talking through that). But add Pearl to the growing list of vanillic scents about which my only real complaint is a lack of balanced proportion in the formulation. While Pearl is more full-bodied and complex than the average drugstore sugar bomb, it's cloying when it could be a compositional rhapsody by playing up its more offbeat notes.
The woody base of the oil takes on nutty, toasted effects. Pearl's agarwood plays it pretty straight, keeping things easy and pleasant; one could wish for more of the funk and some of the muddled fruit that get associated with some types of oud. The sandalwood is yummy. There's light smoke and amber of pulsing radiance. Like it's bottle, the attar is gilded, most appropriate for chilled days with yellow leaves blowing about. It stays all day, with formidable projection. Across hours, a lovely musk settles comfortably on skin and clothing. Pearl is liquid marron glacé, and indulging in its wearing is equivalent to the excesses of dessert courses and syrupy digestifs.
I've sampled many of Al Rehab's oils, and in all cases they've been warming with intense sillage and interpretations of wood notes that feel sticky with glaze. These are some of the traditions and trends that guide Al Rehab's overall tastes. I'd guess that there are some love-it-or-leave-it thresholds in the potencies by which these attars are defined.
Rarely does packaging so affect my perception of a fragrance as Al Rehab's Pearl Attar. The gold and red heart-shaped vial is ornamented in arabesque scrollwork and rhinestones, befitting a globe trekking adventure in Liberace stylings. I feel like I'm Sailor Moon mid-transformation, Wonder Woman with mythic artifacts by way of twentieth century camp, or the happy recipient of a genie's lamp. All that glitters isn't gold, but glittering in yellow foils and red fake gems it does, to fabulous effect.
Pearl is a gourmand blast so strong in caramel qualities, it's sweetness veers into a hallucination of sour sharpness, picking up hints of roses and other floralcy. While overdose' is a popular description for modern scents crammed with one or another heavy note, Pearl is so candied it transgresses into a beyond-sweet daydream, and that's where its interest lies. Past the rich vanilla buttercream is a blend of woods, flowers, and musk.
I don't really know what to make of my own attraction to perfumes strong in vanilla that I think would be improved with considerably less of it (except that my father wore Joop! when I was growing up; don't worry, regularly on the couch talking through that). But add Pearl to the growing list of vanillic scents about which my only real complaint is a lack of balanced proportion in the formulation. While Pearl is more full-bodied and complex than the average drugstore sugar bomb, it's cloying when it could be a compositional rhapsody by playing up its more offbeat notes.
The woody base of the oil takes on nutty, toasted effects. Pearl's agarwood plays it pretty straight, keeping things easy and pleasant; one could wish for more of the funk and some of the muddled fruit that get associated with some types of oud. The sandalwood is yummy. There's light smoke and amber of pulsing radiance. Like it's bottle, the attar is gilded, most appropriate for chilled days with yellow leaves blowing about. It stays all day, with formidable projection. Across hours, a lovely musk settles comfortably on skin and clothing. Pearl is liquid marron glacé, and indulging in its wearing is equivalent to the excesses of dessert courses and syrupy digestifs.
This is a very nice unisex fragrance. Suitable for men or women as a summertime fragrance. Very good sillage and longevity with an unusual bottle, but eye-catching as with most Al-Rehab bottles.
