Ambre Noir by Brecourt and a Giveaway

By Marina A perfunctory search in the Fragrances of the World database reveals over 40 pyramid or accord notes, with some variation of "amber" in their name. There are plenty more that have ambery character. There are over 4000 fragrances containing at least one of those 40 notes. Since amber is such a ubiquitous ingredient, the search brings up plenty seemingly un-ambery scents like Dolly Girl by Anna Sui or Escada Ibiza Hippie. Since it would be an enormous task to count amber fragrances not featuring amber, ambre, ambra or ambergris in their name, I just counted the perfumes that have one of those in the title. There  are over 80 of them, and these would not include a lot of indie lines, like Brecourt. Not to belabor the point, but there are plenty of amber perfumes out there, a lot of them quite good. And still each new (and often long-established) line is compelled to offer its own rendition. I don't know how many succeed in releasing something earth-shatterinly original (can you name a recent amber scent that surprised you?), but some do manage to come up with enjoyable. And that really is not a small thing. This is what Ambre Noir by Brecourt is to me, an easy, comforting, enjoyable amber. The creators call it a fragrance of seduction, and certainly it is fairly sensual, in that languid, husky, velvety way that amber can be, but for me it is mainly a comfort scent, with a strongly gourmand undertone. I say, gourmand, but I couldn't tell you what dish it reminds me of, it is just non-specifically and very pleasantly edible. It might be the fruity magnolia and the honeyed myrrh that lend Ambre Noir this quality or it might that, as I am writing this instead of going to lunch, I am just hungry. In any case, I find Brecourt's verison of amber to be quite delightful. Another ambery offering in the line, Haram is even more obviously on the foodie side. Those looking for a budget-friendly version of the shisha-smoking cinnamon-cherry pie, Ambre Narguile, should pay to it close attention. If you would like to receive a sample pack of Brecourt samples, let me know in your comment, what is your favorite amber perfume. One winner will be chosen at random. Draw closed.

My Final Perfume Frontier: Coming to Terms with Amber

By Donna My tastes in perfume have changed and expanded over the years, as would be expected, and I have to look back in some amusement as my early preference for girlish florals slowly and steadily morphed into more exotic realms, and now I can honestly say that I love perfumes of just about every style, from leathery chypre to desert-dry incense to hothouse heavy white floral to animalic Oriental and almost everything in between. Of all perfumes, there is one genre that I wear the least and whose perennial popularity I have never really understood, and that is ambery fragrances, especially those that feature the sweetly resinous amber blend as the main focus of the composition. I once wore Jean Patou's magnificent Sublime almost exclusively and loved it, but there was a lot more going on there than just amber. Same with Rochas' Absolu, an amber-rich floral-oriental; yes it has amber in it, but it's not really an amber perfume. I became interested in trying more amber scents for several reasons. I knew I was missing out on some really nice perfumes by ignoring them, and smelling some ambery vintage fragrances had made me realize how good they could be; the Extrait de Parfum of Coty's L'Origan is a thing of rare beauty, and a recent swap netted me a decant of vintage Fabergé's Tigress that blew me away with its sexy impact. I was also very impressed with the gorgeous Amberesse that natural perfumer Anya McCoy made for the recent Outlaw Perfume Project. I have a small sample of it and wish I had more. Then there was the marvelous Chocolate Amber scent from La Via del Profumo that I fell hard for. So I looked through my sample stash and did some testing and trading, and I came up with a selection with a range from light to heavy in the amber department to see what happened to them on my skin. I already had samples of both Keiko Mecheri's Crystal D'Ambre and Balmain's Ambre Gris, and when I tried them on together they were very similar; if you own one, you probably don't need the other. Ambre Gris has a sharp and somewhat strange beginning but both of them dry down to a soft and rather powdery amber that's easy to live with. Crystal D'Ambre is especially soft and suede-like while not being overly sweet and I really enjoyed wearing it. Ambre Gris is a fragrance that I am still dithering over whether I should buy or not; I love the final result but the opening is just a little dissonant. If you are an amber beginner, either of these would be nice introductions to the genre. Amberesse from Anya's Garden Perfumes was delightful from start to finish. It contains only natural ingredients, so it's the only one of this group guaranteed to be free of Ambroxan or other synthetic “amber” materials. Its radiance reminded me of the vintage L'Origan I had tried, which is saying a lot. It has a quiet start and then builds, and since perfumes tend to get sweeter on me I was afraid it would go over the top, but it never did. It heart of roses and other florals makes for a beautifully balanced composition, playing perfectly with its creamy-nutty and vanillic Oriental facets. I would gladly wear this perfume anytime and it really made me an amber convert. Next in scale is Ambra Aurea (Golden Amber) by the Italian firm Profumum. This perfume is more resinous and less sweet than anything else in my testing group but it is definitely not medicinal in nature. It's what I would call an essential amber, nothing more and nothing less, strong and distinctive. I really liked it but oddly it had less longevity than any of the others on me, even though it's a straight-up amber that should have substantial lasting power. Even so, I liked it a lot and it can be worn in public without frightening the horses. Speaking of essential, the one I think of as the baseline of amber scents is Etro's Ambra, very sweet and redolent and all amber, all the time. As the saying goes, look up amber in the dictionary and you will find its picture there. It's not very complex to my nose, but it is pleasant, just not my cup of tea. If I wore it at all it would have to be in winter when the days are cold and dry to mitigate the richness of this very popular fragrance. Climbing up the amber pyramid we come to Serge Lutens Ambre Sultan, one of the definitive amber scents of the past two decades. Released in 1993, it is one of the signature perfumes of the Lutens line. It is indeed huge, yet dark and spicy with an herbal aspect, not just a big hit of sweetness. Its complexity kept me fascinated for hours. I am not sure I could really wear this; I think it would wear me instead, but I want a bottle just so I can take it out and sniff it when I get the craving, or wear it to bed as a comfort scent. It's certainly a unisex perfume as all the Lutens fragrances are intended to be, and I can imagine the kind of man who could pull this one off; he would have to have a lot of confidence and a big personality to match the fragrance. Could there be another amber as big as the Lutens? Oh yes, and it's the last stop on my amber tour, Maître Parfumeur et Gantier's Ambre Precieuse. Did I mention that it's BIG? This thing does not take any prisoners; it captures the attention of everyone within range of its considerable clout. This is the kind of amber perfume that made me afraid of them in the first place, but now I had to face it down. It begins more quietly than Ambre Sultan but this one really reacts with my skin to really ramp up the sweetness more than that one does, so on other people the Lutens might be stronger. The really scary part is that it is nominally an Eau de Toilette so I can't even imagine what a more concentrated version would be like. It opens with a strong lavender note, and then when that subsides in comes the amber, and lots of it. As with Ambre Sultan, the quality of the ingredients is immediately apparent and it smells mostly very natural to me. Since it is winter now, I can wear it fairly well, but it would not do for summer at all. Eventually the lavender is conquered by the amber's power and the scent is extremely long lasting. Now that I have come this far and lived through it, there are yet more ambers to explore – one of these days I really want to smell the Big Daddy of them all, the famously gourmand Hermessence Ambre Narguile. It's not sold in stores near me so I can't just try it out, but with my new found appreciation of amber perfumes I am more curious than ever. I suspect it's too much for me to actually wear, but it's on my list of things to smell before I die – even if it kills me. Image credit: Eye of an Eagle Owl by user Woodwalker from Wikimedia Commons via Creative Commons license, some rights reserved. Disclaimer: All the fragrances described in this post were either tried in a store, sent to me by a perfumer for testing or received in swaps with other perfume enthusiasts.

Amber With a Twist: Alahine by Teo Cabanel

By Donna I have always thought of Teo Cabanel's Alahine (2007) as one of those ultra-niche cult fragrances that I would probably never get to try; overly hyped, hopelessly exclusive and very expensive. I don't remember exactly why I had that attitude about it, but recently a sample vial came to me in a swap, and as it turns out, the hype was for a good reason. This is a really wonderful and original fragrance. The house, recently rejuvenated by the creations of perfumer Jean-Françoise Latty, is over 100 years old as well so I don't know if it really can be called “exclusive”, but rather just obscure. I had never heard of it before the previous scents Julia and Oha were released in 2005, but it seems that the house was once very well regarded in Paris before falling on hard times. No more; now everybody wants a piece of this company's products. Everyone seems to describe it as an ambery Oriental but that is the last thing I thought of when the top notes first hit. Sparkling and herbal, it felt like a floral aperitif with a fruity aspect rather along the lines of Jean Patou's splendid Cocktail. (High praise coming from me, hard-core Patou lover that I am.) I even thought that it was a tea scent as the initial burst of top notes began to subside. Then the richer side of Alahine began to emerge after a few minutes, and it got really interesting. It even began to remind me of another Jean Patou scent that I love, the soft woody oriental Normandie; though it is considerably sharper, it has a similar seamlessness to it. In fact I would put this fragrance in the sharp Oriental class due to the persistence of the lavender note throughout its life on the skin. Its opening salvo also resembled vintage Fath de Fath, of which I have tiny sample, and considering the price one must pay for that one these days, if you can even find it, the $110 tag for 50 ml of Alahine at Luckyscent seems like a real bargain. (Parfum in both liquid and solid form can be ordered from the company's own web site or from The Posh Peasant.) As Alahine moves through its gorgeous floral heart of rose, jasmine and orange blossom, the ambery character begins to emerge in earnest, and an almost incense-like impression develops, along with a slightly doughy, pastry-like teaser that I found very pleasing, like the smell of baking wafting from a window as you walk by, but not heavy or overpowering, just a tantalizing hint. Considering that this is an Eau de Parfum and not particularly heavy in base notes, it lasts a good long time on me, and when I put it on in the evening it was still with me in the morning. The intense, almost liqueur-like center of this perfume's universe is Bulgarian and Moroccan rose essence of high quality that gives it a rounded and almost fruity quality overall. The similarity to vintage Jean Patou perfumes is also because of its successful use of lavender without having it dominate everything else. (Shades of Moment Suprême, anyone?) This is not really all that surprising considering the house's devotion to traditional French haute parfumierie, and it is most welcome in a modern fragrance. Now I want to try all the other introductions from Teo Cabanel, preferably sooner rather than later. Notes via Basenotes: Top: Bergamot, lavender, ylang ylang. Middle: Bulgarian and Moroccan rose, jasmine, orange blossom. Base: Iris, rock rose, patchouli, benzoin, vanilla, musk. (Luckyscent adds a mention of sandalwood to the list, and I agree, though this perfume is so well blended that it's hard to pick out individual ingredients.) It is marketed as a feminine, but to me it is definitely eligible for unisex wear, and indeed the opening notes are almost like a fresh masculine before it starts to unpack its seductive bag of tricks. Image credit: The pretty Alahine Eau de Parfum bottle, luckyscent.com

You Can Stand Under My Amber-ella

This has been a rainy summer. At times, it felt that "all the springs of the great deep burst forth, and the floodgates of the heavens were opened". And having a large vessel built just in case seemed like not a bad idea. I've noticed that of all scents, amber ones seem to flourish in humid and wet weather. For whatever reason, they smell better to me and on me when it rains, and, of course, there are few notes more comforting than the balmy, sweet, slightly powdery amber. I started my perfume obsession with amber-mania, over-ambered myself, and haven't touched an amber "soliflore" or a scent with a pronounced amber accord for a couple of years. It was the great deluge of summer 2009 that revived my affection for the note. Having gone through a number of old amber favorites (for example, the sublime Anne Pliska) and having discovered some new amber fragrances, I narrowed my choice of ambers that I would bring with me on the ark to the following three: Keiko Mecheri's new Crystal d'Ambre. I will say straightaway that I don't think it would satisfy a hardcore amber fanatic, somebody who loves, for instance, the formidable Ambre Precieux by Maitre Parfumeur et Gantier. Crystal d'Ambre is much tamer, a softer, somewhat more transparent take on the note (I suppose, thus the "crystal" in the name). Alongside the title ingredient, the almost chocolaty benzoin and vanilla are very apparent on my skin, as is the suede-like, very vaguely animalic accord. Everything is delicately rounded and refined; this is an amber that speaks in hushed tones, an elegant, infintely wearable and comforting creation. (Keikomecheri.com, $115.00 for 75ml) Fiore d'Ambra by Profumum left me underwhelmed in the past. This year, its piquant, honeyed warmth hit the spot. I don't know, if it really contains opium, but I do smell some spice along the lines of cloves, maybe even some cinnamon, and a certain floral piquancy that one finds in carnations. It is simultaneously less proper-perfumey and dressed-up than Crystal d'Ambre and much more sensual. The Mecheri is for rainy evenings out, the Profumum - for seductive nights in. One of my favorite characteristics of Fiori d'Ambra is the tarry, slightly burnt drydown; I find that smoky almost-leatheriness very appealing. (Luckyscent, $240.00 for 100ml) Speaking of smoke, Neil Morris's Burnt Amber is a Guy Fawkes night in a bottle. Amber here is enveloped in the fumes of smoldering oak and oud, spiced up by pepper and sweetened by an addition of plum. Plum is always a plus, in my book. The plummy tarriness of the scent reminds me slightly of Marquis de Sade by Histoires de Parfums, only less leathery, more ambery. Having said that, Burnt Amber offers a unique take on the accord, and lovers of smoke and male readers should make a note of this perfume. Burnt Amber would definitely go with me on the ark, and I would insist on sharing it with my Noah. (Neilmorrisfragrances.com, $70.00 for 30ml) Are there any scents that you enjoy more in wet and humid weather? What amber favorites would you want to save in the Deluge?

Lotus Blossom & Water Lily and Dark Amber & Ginger Lily: The Kohdo Wood Collection by Jo Malone

The Kohdo Wood limited edition collection made a brief appearance in 2008 and has been re-introduced again this year. I managed to miss it last time, so I cannot compare the fragrances, but I assume they were not reformulated. The fragrances are homage to Kohdo, "the ancient Japanese art of incense appreciation". Both, therefore, have a resinous undertone, however, lovers of hardcore incensey incense should not expect to get their fix here. Incense is fairly subtle in both perfumes (stronger in Dark Amber) and serves more as a balancing tool. In the case of Lotus Blossom & Water Lily it balances the fresh wateriness of the floral accord keeping it from becoming too aquatic and too transparent. It gives body to the ethereal composition and infuses it with a hint of darkness. I wrote before that I am in a mood for fresh floral fragrances right now, and LB&WL is exactly what I am in a mood for. The scent is a sip of cold water on a hot day. It is a gauze of pure-white, fragile petals...I could go on. I love it. Jo Malone copy warns about "aquatic nuances", but, even though present, the watery element is not agressive. It is, moreover, a necessary and attractive part of the composition. That wateriness is what evokes an image of lotus and lily, what gives the scent its transluscency and what contrasts so beautifully with the darkness of incense. Sometimes ,the scent is completely dry, cold and "pure" on my skin, sometimes ,the sweetness of freesia, mandarin and lily is more apparent. I love it more when it is coldly innocent. Dark Amber & Ginger Lily is indeed a dark(er) scent. The black angel to the snow-white one of Lotus Blossom. It is sweeter, more full-bodied, a sensual, languid fragrance. It starts with a hit of pepper and ginger, which simultaneously announces both incense (which, to me, has a very obvious peppery undertone) and lily. The floral accord, which includes rose and jasmine, is ripe and candied and brings out both the balsamic sweetness of amber and the heady honey-like quality of ginger lily. Were there no incense to keep it in check, it could have been too sweet. As it is, every ingredient in the composition makes sense in regards to every other ingredients, everything is in there for a reason; I love it when a scent is so well-blended. I don't want to scare anyone off by repeatedly using the word "sweet". DA&GL is indeed sweet, but it is Jo Malone sweet, as in - still rather transparent. To bring down the sweetness, layering with Lotus Blossom works wonders. Both are available for a limited time at Jo Malone boutiques, Bergdorf Goodman, etc., $55.00-$100.00. The collection also includes bath oil and candle in both fragrances.

Perfume Review: Hermes Ambre Narguile

Ambre Narguile is a part of Hermèssence collection, an exclusive line of fragrances created for Hermès by Jean-Claude Ellena. Meant to evoke cashmere, it does indeed envelope the wearer in a warm, soft, luxurious embrace. The Narguile part of the name refers to a traditional Middle Eastern device for smoking, also known as a water pipe, narghile/arghileh, shisha, hookah, hubble-bubble, or kalian. It is a pipe with a long flexible tube connected to a container where the smoke is cooled by passing through water. The sweet, fruity and smoky shisha tobacco accord of Ambre Narguile is my favorite part of this wonderful scent. Apart from shisha tobacco, there are so many facets to Ambre Narguile. It is a fragrance that never stops developing. Never abrupt, the changes it undergoes are constant; because they are so subtle and nuanced, the changes are also very hard to describe. To depict the development of Ambre Narguile briefly and simplistically, it starts as a sweet, honeyed amber, acquires a deliciously smoky and at the same time caramel-like accord, attains a somewhat drier woody note, gets sweeter yet again, smelling amazingly like the Gerber Dutch Apple dessert consisting of apples and cinnamon that both my three year old and I like so much… Finally, the scent reaches that incredible, almost edible (and smokeable) stage of shisha tobacco that I find absolutely irresistible. It is a mouthwatering accord of amber, apples and tobacco, still sprinkled with a little bit of cinnamon. I absolutely agree with Chandler Burr in his assessment of this scent when he says that ”it is not merely the best; there is simply nothing like it on the market, period. And no one will ever do it as well again.” Ambre Narguile is one of the most delicious fragrances ever created, it is gourmand but not foody, sweet but not cloying, smoky but not overly so, centered around amber but much more complex then simply an amber-based scent. To quote Mr. Burr yet again, Ambre Narguile “warms the air. It renders you mouthwatering.” This delicious concoction can be purchased at Hermes boutiques either as a 100ml bottle (for, I believe, approximately $185.00), or as a part of a Discovery Set of four 15ml bottles (you can choose between Ambre Narguile, Poivre Samarcande, Vetiver Tonka, Rose Ikebana and Osmanthe Yunnan; the set costs about $125.00; correct me if I am wrong). *The painting is Narguile by Alberto Vargas. I will leave you with some more paintings featuring water-pipes. An Algerian and Her Slave by Ange Tissier Algerian Women in Their Apartment by Delacroix Caterpillar Smoking a Narguile by John Tenniel

Amber Vanilla by Regina Harris

Amber Vanilla has the richness of a Pre-Raphaelite painting, reminiscent of a jewel-encrusted medieval fabric, dark golden heavy velvet. According to various sites, the notes here are just those in the name, amber and vanilla, but I don’t believe that for a second, this is a complex albeit very smooth blend. Amber opens the composition and it is dark, warm and intense; there is a depth to it that is very incense-like to my nose and I suspect there is an incense note in Amber Vanilla. The fragrance becomes darker and more resinous as it settles on my skin, and even when the vanilla drydown comes, bringing some sweet softness to the blend, the perfume does not lose the vague churchy feel that, to me, is the essence of its uniqueness. Like the first Regina Harris perfume oil, Amber Vanilla has a certain religious atmosphere yet it is an incredibly sensual fragrance. This scent reminded me of the story of St. Theresa of Avila, Roman Catholic mystic, who entered states of ecstasy while studying religious texts in a Carmelite cloister, and of Bernini’s sculpture, The Ecstasy of St Theresa. “I saw in his [angel’s] hand a long golden arrow, its metal point tipped with fire. With this he appeared to pierce my heart again and again, reaching into my insides and ripping them from me, leaving me embracing in the great love of God." Just like in the story of St Theresa and in Bernini’s magnificent work, in Amber Vanilla divinity interacts with matter and spiritual merges with corporal. Amber Vanilla Perfume Oil can be found at Beautyhabit, $125.00 for 15ml