Jazal by Darkbeat Parfums

At first, I definitely detect the creamy, deep bitter orange alongside the jasmine. Slowly, it takes a darker path, accompanied by resins and a woody accord. It smells good, but it’s not quite for me, as I feel it leans heavily towards the feminine side. I find it a very curious scent, pivoting from a resinous note at the start to a fresh one. That duality is very well balanced. The intermittent bursts of freshness are striking; it comes and goes. I’d love to smell it on a woman, but I’ve already finished the decant. Excellent performance in both projection and longevity.

Two notes I absolutely adore: orange and jasmine. I wore it for the first time today and found it delicate, delicious, and very feminine. A beautiful perfume.

Jazal by Darkbeat Parfums, thanks to the kindness of José Manuel. The opening is truly delicious. I perceive it as citrusy, yet at the same time very sweet, fresh, and I would even say slightly balsamic. Personally, I do not detect the bitter orange note. Around fifteen minutes in, as it dries, the citrus opening gives way to the floral notes of jasmine and peony. I also perceive it as a creamy rose, as mentioned by user jarjim in her review. This stage is also very pleasant. I find it enveloping and very welcoming. The life of the perfume on my skin has been around eight hours. A totally unisex perfume.

JAZAL by DARKBEAT PARFUMS could be classified within the Citral Indolic Olfactory Family. It is not strictly a citrus, nor a floral or chypre, but rather an amalgamation of all three. Its immediate opening is a very natural orange, oscillating between the juice of a fresh, sweet orange and the scent of a bitter orange nearing humid ripeness and intoxicating mould. However, once we pass the Manderley gate and the citrus opening, we find ourselves on a winding path of an indolic white jasmine that alternates and vibrates against the flashes of the ever-present orange. Sometimes the moonlight makes us see light in a window of the great mansion, revealing a fleshy, lustful flower, a peony as close to ylang-ylang as to neroli. The base emanates an orientalising longing, always cherished by the creator, which feels closer to the temperature of a resinous chypre, yet never losing the orange and jasmine, the notes that configure this complex perfume. It would be like an Acqua di Parma crafted by a Saint Laurent in its glorious years. A perfume closer to the feminine universe, standing out for its longevity. A perfume from the seventies. From when Yves Saint Laurent was resting at Le Jardin Majorelle in Marrakech, accompanied by Loulou de la Falaise and Betty Catroux, wrapped in multicoloured kaftans, oriental turbans and LSD vapours. It is the perfume of my slender ladies, perverse as reeds, who, from the disdainful gaze of a Delphine Seyrig in the year we spent in Marienbad, return me to a Manderley, always dreamed of and always unattainable.