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SmellyBlog

Ginger & Amber


Ginger Root, originally uploaded by cfwhitney.

Craving of recent weeks: ginger and amber perfume. Maybe it was the cold that stroke me, I was craving a ginger perfume, with the gorgeous authenticity that I've found only in one essence: organic ginger CO2... Instead, I was reaching out for Burnt Amber, and imagining the ginger part. This must have helped to chase away that cold...

Today at the lab I was playing around with the idea, and as I feared, this is not going to be an easy task. I always find it challenging to blend orienal ambery notes (mainly labdanum) with both citrus and spices without creating a mess. And by mess I mean a muddy, cluttered sensation, no definite statement and of course the downside of materials gone to waste... Very easy to get there, and this is what happened as soon as I got tempted to add some fresh ginger essential oil to the mix.

The next day will require a careful mixing of one of my amber bases along with ginger CO2 only. More to come...

Sticky and Stuck


candy lane, originally uploaded by Carol Esther.

You won’t ever hear me complaining about my work as a perfumer. I have the most creative freedom possible on this earth and I enjoy every bit of the process from concept to getting dirty and messing up with the scents. It is also very rare that I find myself “stuck” and in a sort of an awkward situation when it comes to fragrance development.

But now I am. I am feeling quite frustrated with a particular composition I was commissioned to create for a client. There are a few technical issues at hand, one being that the medium is a solid perfume (rather than the alcohol I usually prefer to work in). The second is that the scent itself is an ambery fragrance, and is meant to be mostly amber. The issue is not so much with the scent itself as it is with the medium it’s in. You see, most of the essences used to create an amber accord are stickier than molasses. Benzoin, Peru balsam, labdanum… These are all thick and sticky materials that without the helping hand of alcohol are really difficult to work with. I feel like I hit that spot in Candyland and I am just not seeing the way out… I already missed 8 turns, and that's more than I'm used to...

The other problem I am finding myself in is that originally, this was meant to be an amber/incense scent. I am feeling a lack of direction, even though these two seemingly have no conflict with one another whatsoever. When it comes to a scent that is rather simple, they seem to just not get to where I’d like them to be. Amber and incense should be rich, deep, penetrating and sweet. Instead, I am getting a gooey mess that smells more like rancid resins than anything else. Plus you get that sticky feeling when you finally get to smear it on your skin. Not fun at all, I’m telling you. And with the amber pulling one direction and incense pulling the other, I am feeling totally stuck in the middle from an olfactory design point of view.

Last night, what I did was blend together a new amber base. I already developed 5 different ambers which I love. But for this client I think they deserve to get something new. It is mostly based on Peru balsam with hints of other balsams, vanilla, benzoin and styrax. What makes this interesting is the added note of helicrysum absolute. And this is what I am hoping would set this apart from other ambers (meaning: keep it from being lame…). To that amber base I would like to add a tad of smoky-resinous notes of Choya Loban (the distractive distillation of benzoin, meaning it is left ot burn and scortch a little in the process, to produce a wonderfully smoky burnt caramel scent). Aside from that, a bit orange for sweetness and a lift, guiacwood for additional smokiness and finally a bit of cedar to thin out the consistency and add a smooth woodsy touch.

Cross your fingers for me... I am hoping in the morning, after I melt these all together into a solid perfume, I will finally get what I want: A stunning smoky amber.

Update: I spent most of the day struggling with the amber. I made additional 3 mods and melted them down to make a creme parfum. In all instances, the resins sink to the bottom after melting and even after re-melting. Changing the order of melting didn't help much either (i.e.: melting the essences together with the beeswax, or alternatively heating them up gently inside in oil base). I am getting scorched caramel lining on all of my pots and am feeling almost helpless... But wait, there is hope. One of the ambers seems to smell right after becoming a solid. It's a sweet, sugary amber and my friends who came over for dinner tonight tried it on and loved it. They even thought it is very girly and fashionable, which is the last thing I would have thought about it... Which is a good thing, because this amber is suppose to be very approachable, even if a bit off-beat and interesting. Is it possible that I am over-criticizing my amber?

A few hours later, my amber on my arm has warmed into a truly caramely, sugary layer glimpsing at me from my skin. I am starting to think that it might be it. Or at least very close to where I want to get. Forget about the woods and smoke. Let's just do a caramely amber and enjoy the dessert...

Anbar


Anbar, or amber in Arabic, refers to both ambergris and the fossilized resin used as a gemstone whose beads are often used in Masbaha (prayer beaded chains). I got the perfume oil by this name at Majed’s shop, and it is also dark in colour.

Anbar perfume oil is not as animalic as Al Mesk Aswad, but is still fecal, dark, sweet, and has hints of civet. It smells so animalic it may have some ambergris to it. Like Al Mesk Aswad, I smell hints of camphor at first, which smells cool and metallic, with hints of myrrh and benzoin. Most of all, Anbar reminds me of antiques made of dusty copper and brass and of chains of amber Masbaha displayed in abundance in a crowded souk, where fumes of incense weave their way through the abundance of old Persian carpets, coin-decorated belly dancer’s outfits, piles of dusty incense tears, copper lanterns and hookas laid out on the cool, footsteps-polished dusty stone floor.

Photo: Words of Wisdom, by Barbara (overthemoon on Flickr)

Anné Pliska

Now that the heat is almost at its full Northwest Coast capacity, I hesitated for a moment before I drenched myself in that rich ambery oriental - the fabulous purple concoction that is Anné Pliska. But I am glad I did not give up and tried it despite of the “inappropriate” weather. Like my other two favourite ambery orientals, Shalimar and Obsession, they actually glow in the heat and are a real treat, just like vanilla ice cream...

And indeed, what I first got from Anné Pliska was a summery note of orange and cream soda slushy topped with soft vanilla ice cream, along with daring hints of leather (or wintergreen and birch), creating a root-beer-like effect – which adds an interesting, contrasting accent. After a few minutes this thirst-quenching, cool concoction of sweet crushed ice and vanilla desert fades a bit, and the herbal note softens and moves to the background (perhaps it is tampered by the sweeter, more well-mannered geranium). Vanilla and amber are definitely the most dominant notes and are the theme of Anné Pliska, and are much softer and mellower in the dry down, and become almost powdery. But despite the fact that the scent stays quite linear for most of the composition – it is never boring. The notes weave in and out and maintain the sweet and lovable presence of amber,

Anné Pliska , made by South Californian independent perfumer by the same name, was launched in 1987 (two years after Obsession). Although it shares many similarities with Obsession, it is quite different and more sultry and complex. Think about the creamiest Shalimar vanilla, the amber of Tabu and Obsession, the orange-mandarin notes of Obsession, a tad of unique spiciness that is vaguely reminiscent of Joop! For Men - and an unusual, mysterious oomph of its own – and you get Anné Pliska. If you love these three bombshell orientals, you must try Anné Pliska. In fact, you must try Anné Pliska anyways because it is a special amber perfume, and an example for what a well-made American perfume is: boldly luxurious and sensual, yet sophisticated and elegant.

Top notes: Orange, Mandarin, Wintergreen/Birch
Heart notes: Geranium, Vanilla
Base notes: Amber, Vanilla, Patchouli

P.s. Image is from Luscious Cargo, which carries all of the Anné Pliska line. For more information about where to get it visit the Anné Pliska Blog. Like other American luxury items of yesteryear (i.e. Estee Lauder's Youth Dew), it is also sweetly affordable. Don't you just love them parfum extraits under $100?

Decoding Obscure Notes Part III: Amber


What is amber? Is it a gemstone? A fossilized tree resin? Fur-balls a-la-Whale? Is it an essence from a mysterious plant?

There are so many myths and confusions about what ambergris really is, and there are many reasons for that. First and foremost, because amber is a word that is used for a few different things: a short name for ambergris, the ocean-aged secretion from the sperm whale, a name of fossilized tree resin (Pinus Succunifera, to be exact) which is used in jewelry, as well as an umbrella name for many different compounds that for some extent or the other try to mimic the sweetening effect that ambergris has in compositions.

Let’s start with defining some of these terms:

Amber Resin
The fossil Baltic amber comes from an ancient, prehistoric pine called Pinus Succinifera. Amber dust is a by product of the fossil amber industry, and can be distilled to form a smoky-sweet-resinous and somewhat reminiscent of pine gum. This oil is occasionally used in perfumery as a base note, but very rarely. There are also some toxicity issues around this material and it is not recommended for use on the skin. If you ever try to burn amber “gemstones” to prove their authenticity, the smell that comes from the charred resin is the scent of amber resin oil.

Ambergris
Ambergris is a cured secretion that comes from sperm whales to heal its stomach from the scratches of the cuttlefish they swallow. It floats on the ocean, and by exposure to the sun and the salty water it changes its originally foul smell into one of the most delicate and sought after fragrances: Ambergris. Ambergris is sweet, soft and slightly powdery. It is animalic but in a subtle way – the raw chunks of ambergris on their own remind me of the smell of horses… Ethically harvested ambergris that was beach harvested (as opposed to ambergris that was procured from slaughtered whales and went through an artificial maturing process) is very hard to find. It is tinctured and used as a base note in oriental and floral compositions, in very minute amounts as it is powerful and its most significant role is as a catalyst, bringing out the best of each note and melding them all together seamlessly.

I have been fortunate enough to find some ambergris that was beach harvested in North Carolina (the photo above is of the "mother lump", courtesy of Will Lapaz), and today I finally tinctured it – which is quite an experience. Grating and powdering the ambergris – which is very much like a fragile yet hard resin – is an experience on its own. The scent is delicate yet animalic and intoxicating, but never overwhelming… The tincture needs to be matured for at least six months before a considerable effect is achieved. And from than it is said to become only better with time… Because of its rarity and preciousness I will use ambergris in bespoke perfumes or limited editions.

Ambrette Seed
Lastly, ambrette seed – which has nothing to do with amber or ambergris, except that its has a significantly similar name. For more information about ambrette seed in all of its forms and it’s important role as the most sought after vegetale musks, please see my previous article.

Another myth I would like to break here (since we are talking about animal/plant equivalences) – I deeply disagree with the common knowledge often presented in aromatherapy books that Clary Sage is the closest thing to ambergris in the plant kingdom. It is not. In fact there is very little in common that I can see or understand. The wine-like quality of Clary Sage must have had some influence on their nose… Unless, of course, those lucky souls had their hands on a very unique stash. I am yet to find that Clary Sage… Clary Sage can be used as an accent in amber compounds, but cannot be relied upon to make a compound smell like ambergris.

Amber
Amber used to be used as a short name for ambergris. However, because of the cost and rarity of ambergris, perfumers have constructed many different compounds to assimilate ambergris or to create a warm, sensual, ambery impression by using other aromatics. Natural amber compounds usually contain a combination of Labdanum, Styrax Levant, Benzoin and vanilla. This creates a soft, sensual, warm, comforting and sweet aroma that lingers for many hours and also acts as a fixative for other notes.

We see that amber in perfumery context is really a name for compounds with certain characteristics in common. All ambers are sweet base notes, and act as a fixative as well as add a sweet, soft and round note to a composition. However, ambers can differ greatly depending on what they are made of. There are synthetic ambers of different kinds and characteristics (i.e.: crystalline ambers are sheer and not as sweet as other ambers), and the same goes for natural amber compounds.

Let’s look at the three key ingredients that are essential for creating natural amber compounds:

Labdanum
One of my most favourite scents – the gum resinoid from the rockrose is as close as plants can get to ambergris. The ambery, sweet, honeyed aroma of labdanum plays a key role in many chypre and oriental compositions and is an important ingredient in amber compounds, along with Styrax and Benzoin. Labdanum absolutes vary in quality – some are lighter, some are sweeter than others, and some are more leathery and animalic.

Styrax Levant (Liquidamber Orientalis)
One of the essential components of amber compounds, Styrax Levant has top notes reminiscent of epoxy glue, yet it is sweet and pleasant, and has a smoothing ambery effect. It is sweet, floral and balsamic.

Benzoin
Benzoin is a sweet balsam from a tropical Asian tree with fixative qualities. It is reminiscent of vanilla but does not overwhelm delicate floral and citrus notes. There are two varieties of benzoin: Siamese and Sumatran. The Benzoin from Siam (grown in China, Cambodia, Thailand, Laos and Vietnam) is a bit dried and powdery. The Benzoin from Sumatra is sweeter and richer, almost caramel-like, and comes from Sumatra, Java and Malaysia.

I have created a basic amber formula which contains these three essences only – Labdanum absolute, Styrax Levant and Benzoin. This amber on its own is quite boring (though it has a nice fixative quality and will not overpower delicate heart and top notes). To transform this basic amber into a unique amber compound or even a complex amber perfume – I like to use accent notes. My favourite ones to use are the following:

For sweet, mouthwatering gourmand amber, I like to add essences such as honey absolute, vanilla absolute, tonka bean and Peru balsam.

For a warmer, drier amber – I add spicy notes such as cinnamon, cloves, Tolu balsam and cassia. Herbs such as sage, clary sage and juniper can be used in minute quantities as well.

To add mystery and allure - patchouli and incense (sandalwood, olibanum, etc.) can be utilized to great effect as long as the proportions are right.

And of course – minute quantities of floral notes such as rose and jasmine will soften and round the amber compound, giving it depth without turning it into a flower.

To learn more about natural amber compound and the amber/ambergris/Baltic amber resin confusion, read this article.
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