Notes: ylang-ylang, bergamot, lemon; tuberose, jasmine, orange blossom, damask rose; ambergris, vanilla, patchouli, woods
Golestan opens with a rich, buttery, ambered pale-yellow scent, in Andy Tauer’s usual plush style with the hot breath of real ambergris beneath.
There are dense, honeyed, pollen-laden florals above — the orange blossom is especially prominent a few minutes in —but the overall primary impression is of golden slightly-sweet butteriness.
It’s a romantic, rich, emotional swelling chord of a scent, inspired (Tauer says) by a fantasy of Persian walled gardens.
Underneath, maybe an hour in, there’s a darker, boozier amber note that touches on masculine Oriental tropes (the sound of ice clinking in the scotch glass as you leave the sun-drenched garden to enter a dark wood-paneled study lined with leather-bound books.) This phase must be the “patchouli”, but it’s more about the warm-brown resinous trimmings that often accompany patchouli than the leaf itself.
I’ve never before encountered this particular combination of a buttery, orange-blossom-forward white floral over a dark amber, and I appreciate the originality. The overall effect is almost too rich for me — like pancakes with butter AND maple syrup — but it’s creative and it works.
And like almost all Tauer’s work, it’s well-crafted real-deal perfume, dense and rich while still giving a sense of space and inner structure.
Natural comparison points: Neela Vermeire Pichola is a similarly buttery orange blossom (the saffron smells almost like buttered popcorn) but it’s much sheerer and doesn’t have the amber-patchouli base. And there are lots of scents that are just the Dad’s-study amber-patchouli thing, if you’re into that — Jovoy Psychedelique is a particularly loud and luxurious example.