Tamya
Ayala Moriel (2003)

Tamya is a complex perfume--a fruity floral, but not in the classic sense. It is warm and quiet in its beauty. No particular note asserts itself, but all of them are singing in unison, as if in a chord. And an unexpected combination it is, with notes that are not often found in together (see pyramid). This woody, fruity, and floral blend results in a scent that I can only describe roughly as tutti-fruiti, polished wood, and wildflowers. Unique? Right. One would anticipate that such an unusual perfume would smell loud. Wrong! The result is a skin scent, understated and versatile.

Dedicated to Ayala's daughter Tamya does convey an aura of youth and freshness. Tamya is that rare thing a 'true' jasmine scent that is sensual and feminine but remains clear and translucent. This perfume is wonderfully blended, so well that it is almost impossible to separate the different 'layers'. Tamya opens with a softly green fruity accord (Japanese citron, blackcurrant buds and coriander) which quickly succumbs to the dominate heart of this scent - Jasmine. The listed heart notes are sambac jasmine, hyacinth, and frangipani but jasmine is truly the reigning queen in this parade. Tamya dries down to a subtly sexy skin-but-better scent, smooth and creamy, yet still retains the bright-eyed freshness of its more innocent opening - one cannot help but be seduced. Inspired by the twilight hour before sunset, Tamya spoke to me of summer and the scent of sun caressed skin at dusk.Like youth, summer and a first kiss, Tamya is too delicate and fleeting to secure a place in my wardrobe, with little or no sillage. I believe that Tamya would be perfect in summer, on long balmy evenings and this is what comes to mind as I sniff my wrist. I may reconsider purchasing this next summer but until then I shall savour the sweet memory of this homage to the beauty of a girl on the threshold of womanhood.

Tamya--as pretty a jasmine fragrance as any I've worn. I like florals, but I know some folks don't, and I suppose one reason might be that a single flowery note rises above all others and starts drilling its presence into the brain. In Tamya, the surrounding notes restrain the jasmine from growing too boastful, while at the same time none of them really steps ahead of the jasmine either. Today it happens to be misting outside, and I wish it were a mist of Tamya I could walk through. I'd love to experience this scent in the outdoors. But I fear Tamya is so mild, I'd lose track of her in the wind.