Amouage Ubar: Perfume Review

Ubar is a re-introduction of the 1995 perfume with the same name, which, as Amouage justly point out, was "highly acclaimed by fragrance connoisseurs". The fragrance is "inspired by the long lost ancient trading city of Ubar, rediscovered in the sands of Southern Oman in 1992." Lucky to have a sample of the old Ubar, I was able to try the two versions side by side. Ubar 1995, perhaps due to its age (14 years is practically vintage), skips the citrusy top notes almost completely, while the 2009 edition lingers among lemon and bergamot for quite a while. Not only that, but the silvery jingle of lily of the valley can be heard, at this stage of the scent's development, loud and clear. While the old Ubar jumps right into the ripe, honeyed roses and jasmine, sweetened further by vanilla, the new version takes its time, gradually introducing the opulent floral theme through the delicate presence of lily of the valley in the top notes. Slowly, slightly indolic jasmine emerges followed by jammy rose. At this point, the ambiance of the composition changes dramatically, taking the wearer from the sunlit, innocent day into the pitch-black, sensual night. The sensuality, at times dirtiness of the perfume, is in no small measure due to a generous dose of civet in the base notes. Blended with vanilla and rose, the animalic ingredient lends Ubar that ambiguous gourmand/erotic quality that makes one wonder whether one should crave to drink it or to lust after it. Civet also turns the initially fairly modern scent into, dare I say, an old-fashioned one, in the best way possible. With its velvety feel, its unapologetic luxuriousness, its satisfying substantionality, Ubar could be standing next to Shalimar on a chic Parisian shelf, back in 1921. As for the fans of the original Ubar, to sum up my impressions, I would say that the older version is overall heavier on rose, whereas the new one, although still centered on that note, pays more attention jasmine and lily of the valley and places a heavier emphasis on civet-vanilla accord in the drydown. One thing for sure, the devotees of the older version should not worry that the new one has been "watered down" or simplified as is sometimes the case with re-releases. If anything, it has been made more fleshy somehow and perhaps even more complex. It is a must-try for the lovers of floral-oriental-animalic genre and a must-have for me. Ubar is available at Amouage.com, €180-€210, and Luckyscent, $250-$285.

Perfume Review: Amouage Jubilation 25...and a Prize Draw

The recent Amouage releases for women, from Eau and Esprit d’Amouage to Reflection, were underwhelming for me, not living up to the high standards of what I consider to be Amouage “classics”, Gold, Dia and Ciel. Actually, the quotation marks are not necessary here, because, as far as I am concerned, the latter three are indeed classic scents, since they possess the timeless quality of true classics which lifts them above trends and fashions. In contrast, the later offerings from the company were nothing but nods to trends, attempts at appealing to the young, fresh- and fruity- loving audience. To me, they robbed the line off its regal, luxurious, elegantly exotic splendor. When a company decides to become young, hip and/or approachable for wider audience (and I am not talking prices here, heaven knows, there is a lot of overpriced fruity-floral drivel on the market), it is all downhill from there, with scents going from bad to worse (I wanted to cite Dior here as an example, but I still haven’t smelled the three new scents, and so I will hold my peace.). Long story short, I did not have high expectation for the Jubilation collection, created to celebrate the 25th Anniversary of the House of Amouage. I don’t think I have ever been proved more wrong …except for that one time when I was told that the White House did not in fact have an electromagnetic force field protecting it…but I digress. With Jubilation 25, Amouage is back to its former magnificent self. As much as I admire Gold and love Dia, I am almost tempted to say that the new women’s perfume is even better. Jubilation 25, while retaining the sublimely elegant spirit of earlier creations, has a much more pronounced exotic feel, and in that, it seems to me better representative of the House. Gold and Dia seemed to me utterly European, or just French, if you will. In Jubilation 25, West finally meets East and the Omani origin of the line becomes much more obvious. It is as if Femme Rochas and Lutens’s Arabie had a passionate love affair, which resulted in a child who inherited Femme’s chic voluptuousness and the very French élan and Arabie’s dark good looks and tantalizing mysteriousness. Jubilation 25 smells like a Perfume supposed to. “A woman should smell like a woman, and not like a rose”, said Coco Chanel (quoted in Michael Edwards Perfume Legends, page.45), in other words, a Perfume should not be obvious. A Perfume should smell complex, it should make you wonder what IS it that makes it what it is, and almost not wanting to find out. With notes of tarragon, rose, lemon, ylang-ylang, davana, labdanum, frankincense, amber, musk, vetiver, myrrh and patchouli, Jubilation is a complex blend, intricate and harmonious. In contrast to the relatively fresh top notes, the heart seems shockingly full-bodied. The creaminess of ylang and the booziness of davana, combined with an ambery accord and the sweet, sweet myrrh, create an effect of astonishing richness. Add to that patchouli and what I would swear is cumin, and it all is almost Too Much! But here is where the perfumer’s (Lucas Sieuzac, whose future in perfume, judging by this scent alone, is dazzlingly bright) magic comes into play. I don’t know what it is that keeps the extravagant opulence within the limits of endurable; I don’t know what – miraculously! - makes the scent as sublimely elegant as it is robustly luxurious, but something does. Perhaps the spirit of the great Edmond Roudnitska has been watching over the creation. Refined and lavish, exquisitely classic and alluringly exotic, luxe, calme et volupté, Jubilation 25 is THE best scent to come out this year …no, make it the last couple of years. If the praise seems excessive, it is because it is deserved. Please try it, when you can. In fact, let’s have a prize draw. If you would like to receive a sample of Jubilation 25, please say so in your comment. Three winners, randomly chosen, will receive a small vial of the scent each. I haven’t done this in a while, but the perfume demands for it to be done…and so I am leaving you with Baudelaire’s Invitation to the Voyage, the poem that transports me to the same –golden, idyllic, seductive- place as Jubilation: My child, my sister, Think of the rapture Of living together there! Of loving at will, Of loving till death, In the land that is like you! The misty sunlight Of those cloudy skies Has for my spirit the charms, So mysterious, Of your treacherous eyes, Shining brightly through their tears. There all is order and beauty, Luxury, peace, and pleasure. Gleaming furniture, Polished by the years, Will ornament our bedroom; The rarest flowers Mingling their fragrance With the faint scent of amber, The ornate ceilings, The limpid mirrors, The oriental splendor, All would whisper there Secretly to the soul In its soft, native language. There all is order and beauty, Luxury, peace, and pleasure. See on the canals Those vessels sleeping. Their mood is adventurous; It's to satisfy Your slightest desire That they come from the ends of the earth. — The setting suns Adorn the fields, The canals, the whole city, With hyacinth and gold; The world falls asleep In a warm glow of light. There all is order and beauty, Luxury, peace, and pleasure. (Translated by William Aggeler) Jubilation 25 is available at Amouage.com, €190.00- €225.00. According to Christopher Chong, the creative director of Amouage, the Jubilation collection will launch in the US in 2008.

New generation: Vine and Helmut Lang

Vine by Strange Invisible Perfumes It is easy to lure me with the promise of a Greek myth, wine and pomegranates. I am also unable to resist the words like “whispering decadence”, “ambrosial” and “poised”. Vine is all of those things, but what is strangely invisible in the description of the fragrance is a very noticeable animalic accord that is persistently there through the two thirds of the fragrance development and only gets less noticeable (but never disappears completely) in the drydown, where Vine is all sweet fruits and thick dark wine. To stay in the vein of Greek mythology, that animalic accord is perhaps the smell of Cerberus sent by his master to stealthily follow Persephone; it is hard to believe that she could have stayed oblivious to his musc-y, wet, sweetly repulsive odour. I cannot. This “three headed dog from Hades” note in Vine somewhat obscures all that is ambrosial about it. That is not to say that I don’t like this fragrance; I find it repulsive and irresistible at the same time, just like I cannot get enough of Muscs Koublai Khan, the fragrance that first opened my eyes to the wonders of all things musk and animalic. Helmut Lang by Helmut Lang Another relation of Koublai’s, very distant this time. A pale, androgynous cousin many times removed but still somehow reminiscent of that dirty naughty Koublai Khan of Lutens fame. The indescribable nameless animalic note is super light here, but it is still present. There is a “skin accord” among the official notes, and, whatever that may be, I bet you that is what makes this sleek, clean, modern eau de parfum smell on my skin like an unwashed Mongol warrior. Helmut Lang is very wearable, rather discreet, with just a hint of a hungry sexy predator lurking beneath the very contemporary minimalistic surface.

Kissing cousins: En Avion and Vol de Nuit

En Avion by Caron Luca Turin’s description of En Avion in his Le Guide, as a fragrance fit for Sam Spade’s fiancée intrigued me enormously. He also describes this perfume as Olympian and suitable for an Amazon. According to Caron, En Avion was created as a homage to the first women of the skies (Adrienne Bolland, Hélène Boucher and Maryse Bastié), the adventurous ones, the ones who braved the elements. After sampling En Avion, I am not convinced about future Mrs. Spade and especially about a Greek goddess wearing this, but that is definitely what an Amazon might smell like. In fact, a woman wearing En Avion would be a great match for someone who wears Muscs Koublai Khan. That would be a union made in horse-riding barbarian steppe heaven. The official list of notes (“Orange tree, rose, jasmine, carnation…Totally new balance of rich flowers on a dry, spicy, wooded base.”) does not mention any animalic notes, but they are there, to my nose. The same “circus smell” as in Koublai Khan hit me when I first tried En Avion. It is not as wild as in the former but it sure is there. Not entirely unpleasant, weirdly captivating, En Avion is one of the most unusual perfumes I have ever tried. Vol de Nuit by Guerlain Vol Nuit is yet another aviation-related scent that I find to have animal accords. There must be some connection there, but it eludes me. Vol de Nuit was named after Antoine de saint Exupery’s novel, in which a pilot loses the control of his plane, while his newly wed wife is in the control tower, desperately waiting for any signs of life from his aircraft. It feels almost wrong that Vol de Nuit, this incredibly romantic story of love, is animalic on my skin. Think En Avion's prettier gentler younger sister. Think Muscs Koublai Khan's very distant relative. Perhaps it is jasmine playing its cruel indole game with me again. I don't know. All I know, there is something a little dirty and sensual in this fragrance, but that sensuality is suppressed. Fearless En Avion left behind her classy upbringing and eloped with Koublai Khan, while Vol de Nuit stayed at home, met her pilot and we all know the rest of the story. *The painting is An Amazon, by Franz von Stuck.

Muscs Koublai Khan by Serge Lutens

Koublai Khan, 1215-94, was a Mongol emperor, founder of the Yüan dynasty of China. He succeeded his brother Mongke as the ruler of the empire that their grandfather Jenghiz Khan had founded. The empire reached its greatest territorial scope with Kublai's final defeat of the Sung dynasty of China. Koublai promoted economic prosperity by rebuilding the Grand Canal, repairing public granaries, and extending highways; he fostered Chinese scholarship and arts; although he favored Tibetan Buddhism, other religions (except Taoism) were tolerated. Kublai encouraged foreign commerce, and his magnificent capital at Cambuluc (now Beijing) was visited by several Europeans, including Marco Polo. As far as I am concerned, there is none of that imperial splendor in Muscs Koublai Khan, no enlightened interest in arts and science; magnificent palaces full of priceless objects don’t rise before my eyes when I smell this fragrance. Serge Lutens creation is all about Koublai the warrior, a soldier among his soldiers, a conqueror prowling the great plains. Muscs Koublai Khan is raw, dirty and sensual. On the first sniff, this is, shockingly, the smell of a circus, you know the one, animal sweat and animal skin and all the things I will not mention here, a very distinctive smell that is repulsive yet weirdly appealing at the same time…Civet, castoreum, costus roots, patchouli…I have no doubt that this is exactly what Koublai Khan smelled like on his cleanest day while on a conquering spree. I would have never expected myself to like a scent like that, yet I find it incredibly alluring. Perhaps, Ambrose Bierce was right, and every Russian is a person with a Caucasian body and a Mongolian soul, and these are the deepest and the darkest recesses of my soul that crave Muscs Koublai Khan, this eau de blood-thirsty unwashed horse-rider of the steppes…Like Nikolai Gumilev, sometimes “I’m bored with people and the stories, and dream of the treasures of the kingdom, glories, and yataghans, all covered with blood.” *The painting is Koublai Khan by Frank Frazetta