Red's Lumberyard
Oriental Lounge: My Timeless Amber
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on 15th October 2009 at 07:27 AM (2417 Views)
Oriental Lounge: My Timeless Amber
Every once in a while, I simply have to do a straight review. I don't like it. I'd much rather write those quasi-semi-pseudo-literary reviews that just plain annoy the hell out of some people. But sometimes I stumble onto something really, really good, and the word must go out. Besides - I have all winter to work on "Hot Amber & The Lumberyard Time Machine".
Technically, this was a blind buy. But not really blind. You see, this is different, because it's from The Different Company. And The Different Company is different because every one of their scents smells decent to me. Not a scrubber in the bunch. So when I ordered the new Oriental Lounge, I knew - in a mathematically valid but otherwise magical way - that I would like it, and maybe even love it. But the question still remained. Why?
I waited all day and showered - on my day off, mind you - just for the occasion. Seeking to "get in the mood" for what TDC calls "one of the most sensual fragrances" in their line, I took a leisurely nap. When I arose, a relaxed shower. Fresh skin. Clean clothes on the bed. I did a bikini dance in front of the bathroom mirror, modeling my black underwear to a shocked congregation of old-school cologne bottles. I think that Eau de Cologne Imperiale may have fainted. In the words of my hero in the B-movie Army of Darkness - "Gimme some sugar, baby."
Spraying on the juice from the sexy, cubic, heavy-as-crystal bottle, I waited for lower love that never came. Instead, I began wandering randomly around our bedroom, with my nose pointed skyward and my wrist dangling over my head. Thank God my wife didn't come upstairs, only to see her DH walking around in his undies, passionately moaning "Amber! Amber!", like some foolishly infatuated john, calling out to a long-gone hooker after she had skipped with his wallet.
For you see, instead of a cheap fling with a new sexy scent, I had once again proven to myself that the best things in life - such as signature amber scents - are thoroughly worth waiting for.
Amber - in all its forms - is powerful stuff. Used properly, it puts wood on the ball. When Mike Perez admitted to having cried upon sniffing Ambre Sultan, I instinctively did some kind of internal bow to the greatness of that scent. There are few scents worthy of such a thing, but Ambre Sultan is - beyond doubt - one of them. Yet, I had never bought it. Nor had I bought Ambre Précieux, which I prefer even to Ambre Sultan. And there is no way that I would touch Neil Morris' fascinating but shocking Burnt Amber. No - I needed something softer, but somehow, impossibly, still retaining the power of amber. And I didn't want to settle. So I waited, in a quest for my perfect amber. I even bought two scents that were merely "ambery" - Miller-Harris Feuilles de Tabac and Creed Bois du Portugal. Love 'em both, but neither one filled that void in my wardrobe. They have the classy uptown aspects of amber, but not the sexy warmth that I craved.
When I bought a set of four Hermèssence scents, including Ambre Narguilé, I held out some real hope that I would find my true amber love. Banking on Jean-Claude Ellena's light touch and trademark transparency, I hoped for a signature-worthy amber scent. Instead, I remember my shock when I smelled a heavy, fruity, tobaccoish, amber powerhouse. Sadly, I gave up hope of ever finding the amber of my dreams.
And now, wandering around in my bedroom calling out to amber, I realized just what Céline Ellena had done. As the power of amber rose through the topnotes, I waited for it to go to far - to do too much. But that moment never came. Through a mesmerizing balance of freshness, spiciness, and the most gentle touch of a softening powder, amber is allowed to be sensuous but no more. The power of amber is transformed by taking some of it away. It is, to me, amber through the vision of a woman and not a man. Next to this amber, all others - even the greatest - are pornographic. Ambre Sultan may have the voluptuous sexiness of the royal harem, but Oriental Lounge has the seductive intrigue of a slit dress and escalating glances in a dark, exotic club. You can have your thousand-and-one nights with the harem, buddy. I'm buying that lady a drink.
It's a shame to get clinical about this scent, but there are readers who want it, so bear with me. Oriental Lounge is talked up less as an amber scent than as an oriental/spicy/gourmand, which fits the way that amber is restrained. In some ways, OL's weak boozy angle parallels the modern trend of weak orientals like Dirty English and D&G the one For Men. But there is, much more predominantly, a fresh, cardamom-like spiciness due to caloupilé, aka curry plant leaves. This is an Asian spice plant which is NOT used for curry per se, but rather as a leaf spice IN certain curries and whatnot. It's not some over-the-top, curry or cinnamon thing. It's very subtle and soft.
Some of the freshness is due to bergamot, used nicely here. There is also a soft, powdery aspect - presumably tonka. Worry not, powderphobes. Others have described it as creaminess, and that works - the typical tonka thing is nicely modified to unfamiliarity. There is a quiet chocolate/cacao note, and in combination with the spice, makes an impressive gourmand. No Snickers bar, thank goodness. It resembles L'Instant de Guerlain Pour Homme - the lightness of the EDT without the dryness. The gourmand of the EDP without the heaviness. And it dries down even better than either of these, which is saying quite a bit, given how much I love L'Instant's drydown. It's a softer and more gentle drydown - very sexy. Longevity is not as good as L'Instant, but it's good enough. Projection depends on how your nose is dealing with amber. Overall, it's reasonable and very EdP-ish, meaning people need to get close. Sillage is light to moderate.
Now I want to talk about balance. This is a very balanced fragrance. Amber is tamed by a wonderful combination of everything else. The fact that it is kept in balance is really rather remarkable. The scent does have a development, but it's neither whipping around madly, nor predictably linear. It starts off impressively multi-faceted, and finishes as an impressively good skin scent. There are both gourmand and woody aspects to the drydown. One of the notes is "satin wood" - I don't know what it is, really, but it really is damn good. And as far as skin scents go - well - let's just say that you really, really want to end up in bed with somebody wearing this one. Man or woman doesn't matter, as far as who's wearing it (who you get in bed with is up to you). To call this scent "unisex" is too cheap and vulgar - it's like talking about toilets. It has that timeless feel which has no sex. Yes, a certain macho quality of the amber is gone, but what is left is wearable by anybody.
I suppose that I should say something bad about this scent, or I'll sound like a complete shill. Well, it could have better longevity and greater sillage. Both top and heart check out too early for me. I love to sniff it, and I wish it would project more, to compensate for amber fatigue. Is it too early to start clamoring for the "extreme" version? But I have to be honest, that might just kill it. If perfume designs are like any other complex system, then you have to have trade-offs. If you want the slit dress, then say goodbye to the thong, and definitely the ski boots.
What does this scent mean in the greater context of perfumery? First, it's novel territory for The Different Company, and more specifically, Céline Ellena. So kudos to both for a nice offering in a new area. Beyond that, I think this scent makes amber more accessible to many people, and more wearable, too. People who recoil at the louder ambers should check this out. But more than these things, I have to say that Céline is really giving her father a run for the money now. I think there will be many like me, who will prefer the sexy enticement of Oriental Lounge to the bold pipe tobacco quality of Ambre Narguilé - to say nothing of the Sultan of Ambre.
I don't think this is a scent that everybody needs to own, but I think people should definitely put it on their test lists. This is one of TDC's strongest offerings, in my opinion.
I already have Rodrigo Rojas' tagline for "Hot Amber & The Lumberyard Time Machine".
Gimme some amber, baby.
Blogger Disclosure: I was paid negative $120 by The Different Company in exchange for a potentially favorable review. This included a special email incentive discount comparable to the notorious "free shipping". An investigation is clearly warranted.
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