I have been studying amber fragrances for a couple of months now trying to really understand this note better.
To start this study, I ventured to The Perfume House here in Portland, Oregon. The staff there are very knowledgable and the selection is quite large.
As I talked to the clerk and learned about amber, I finally asked, "But what does amber itself smell like?"
"That," she exclaimed, "I can answer!" She rummaged through a drawer and brought forth a glass jar like a jelly jar. She removed the lid and handed me the jar. It contained some dirty-looking brown rocks. "Smell that," she commanded. And so I did. I expected it to smell like rocks, dirty and earthy and minerally. But it smelled wonderful, sweet, a bit of vanilla, rich and complex. "That," she continued, "is the highest-grade, pure, raw amber. That is what amber smells like!"
Thinking I may not ever again have the chance to smell such a great thing, I inhaled deeply and tried to capture the smell in my memory.
Meanwhile, the clerk sprayed something onto a cotton ball and handed the ball to me. "Now smell this."
It was the same.
I went back and forth between the jar and the cotton ball. Jar. Cotton ball. Jar. Coton ball. I tried to be very critical and smell very carefully looking for something in the jar that was not on the ball or something on the ball that was not on the jar. But, with the exception of a bit of fading alcohol on the ball, there was no difference.
"I can find no difference," I said.
"Because there isn't," my teacher replied.
"So," I asked, holding up the ball, "what is on this?"
She put the bottle onto the table: L'Artisan Parfumeur, Ambre Extrême.
"L'Artisan has," she explained, "more than any other house, succeeded in bottling the true scent of amber."
"But," I protested, "I read that Ambre Extrême has other notes like cinnamon, pepper, cardamom, nutmeg, vanilla... even rose sandalwood, even patchouli."
"No," she explained, "Amber itself is a complex fragrance and has elements of those notes in it."
And so I tried again, jar, cotton ball, jar, cotton ball, jar, cotton ball... and they were the same.
So, knowing that I couldn't take the jar home, I took the bottle home instead. And that is what I learned about Amber.
To start this study, I ventured to The Perfume House here in Portland, Oregon. The staff there are very knowledgable and the selection is quite large.
As I talked to the clerk and learned about amber, I finally asked, "But what does amber itself smell like?"
"That," she exclaimed, "I can answer!" She rummaged through a drawer and brought forth a glass jar like a jelly jar. She removed the lid and handed me the jar. It contained some dirty-looking brown rocks. "Smell that," she commanded. And so I did. I expected it to smell like rocks, dirty and earthy and minerally. But it smelled wonderful, sweet, a bit of vanilla, rich and complex. "That," she continued, "is the highest-grade, pure, raw amber. That is what amber smells like!"
Thinking I may not ever again have the chance to smell such a great thing, I inhaled deeply and tried to capture the smell in my memory.
Meanwhile, the clerk sprayed something onto a cotton ball and handed the ball to me. "Now smell this."
It was the same.
I went back and forth between the jar and the cotton ball. Jar. Cotton ball. Jar. Coton ball. I tried to be very critical and smell very carefully looking for something in the jar that was not on the ball or something on the ball that was not on the jar. But, with the exception of a bit of fading alcohol on the ball, there was no difference.
"I can find no difference," I said.
"Because there isn't," my teacher replied.
"So," I asked, holding up the ball, "what is on this?"
She put the bottle onto the table: L'Artisan Parfumeur, Ambre Extrême.
"L'Artisan has," she explained, "more than any other house, succeeded in bottling the true scent of amber."
"But," I protested, "I read that Ambre Extrême has other notes like cinnamon, pepper, cardamom, nutmeg, vanilla... even rose sandalwood, even patchouli."
"No," she explained, "Amber itself is a complex fragrance and has elements of those notes in it."
And so I tried again, jar, cotton ball, jar, cotton ball, jar, cotton ball... and they were the same.
So, knowing that I couldn't take the jar home, I took the bottle home instead. And that is what I learned about Amber.
