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Prada Ambre Intense Pour Homme

Lighthouse Park by jimoftheday
Lighthouse Park, a photo by jimoftheday on Flickr.

Is it randomness or is it fate, which will forever link a certain fragrance with a certain place? Perhaps even a little of both... But the result is the same, and will forever be engrained in my brain, psyche, heart - call it what you may.

Prada Ambre Intense Pour Homme is not exactly what you'd wear on a hike on a sunny and warm May day, but that's precisely what I will forever associate it with. Sitting on the rocks and trying to figure out what's in it - and whether I like it or not.

I'm re-visiting it again tonight, after stopping at Oakridge Mall on the way to the train station. Historic moment, by the way: in an unprecedented moment, a sales associate at The Bay has voluntarily offered to take $10 off a bottle just to make a sale... Three hours later, I wish I took her up on that.

Prada Ambre Intense Pour Homme begins like a mist of citrus peel with florals thrown in the mix - the familiar crystalline feel of bergamot, and some tangering and orange. Non of which is strong enough, of course, to cover up the brownie, chocolatey, delicious earthiness that's lurking underneath.

First comes amber, with a load of benzoin; then the bergamot makes a second entrance, only to be pushed away by a clean, woody patchouli that almost smells like cedar. The amber and patchouli remain the main components for the next three hours, feeling a little too crystalline and transparent to my taste at first; but becoming more bold and dominant and deep, with only sandalwood occasionally making some white noise, and vanilla that is almost chocolatey and edible. Lastly, a familiar note of vetiver joins in and adds an extra layer of wood that is clean, elegant and delightful.

Prada Ambre Intense Pour Homme has a long and clumsy name, but it's well constructed, with a structure similar to the great Shalimars of the past, and could be easily worn by both men and women, as long as they go hiking with it.

Coromandel

Back when Chanel's Les Exclusifs came out, I wrote about Coromandel: "a modern oriental much in the vain of Prada and Allure Sensuelle, but one that I can stomach without gagging. If I happen to change my mind about it I will let you know. Promise".

Well, I haven't changed my mind. But since the patchouli series is still going, I thought I'll give it a more proper wearing and describe it in slightly more detail than before.

Coromandel has a funny name and is a thin, rather non inspiring oriental if there ever was one. Beginning with a floral-fruity mess that quickly leads to the patchouli premise everyone is hoping for, it does so with the assistance of agricultural-smelling molecules of upturned soil (geosmin?) that hints at less appetizing visions of sugar plums developing mold on the ground in late fall. Fruit and dirt might be a fertile combination, but not for the nose...

Once the chemicals quiet down, you can sense more of the patchouli, with what seems to have been its usual-accomplice (benzoin) and richer powdery vanillin that will pitch in only later.

I know Coromandel has its die-hard fans somewhere, but to me it was a very under-satisfying experience, even after the fruitsy notes left the stage. I would have expected something more polished, lacquered and poised with sophistication and depth - even if it has such a funny sounding name. In efforts to please the crowds, the result is less than pleasing and not quite befitting of the Chanel legacy. Pity, because I think it had a full potential of being one of those Chanel big-guns - Coco, for example; but instead tries to reach the younger audience of patchouli wannabes that can't tell musk from amber.

Allure Parfum

For Adrian... by pieceoflace
For Adrian..., a photo by pieceoflace on Flickr.

Angular, crisp and non-accommodating, allure eau de toilette never appealed to me. I tried to fall for it, but it didn’t happen. There was something just so harshly chemical at first, and than bland through and through – I kept waiting for a surprise to happen, and it never did.

While reviewing Dune, I realized how similar the two fragrances are, and how much Allure was influenced by Dune. So I’ve given Allure another chance, and tried it in the pure parfum (I have a mini that was sent to me by a fellow perfumista – to this day I can’t remember if it was a trade, a gift or one of those “thinning the herd” sales…). Either way, I’m glad I had (and still have) the opportunity to smell Allure in the parfum concentration. Traditionally, perfumers will design a new fragrance in parfum extrait first, which means this is their truest intention. Now you’ll sometimes see perfumes released first in other concentrations: Cristalle, for example, was first created as an eau de toilette, and was never offered in extrait.

Allure parfum is slightly a different animal: It opens with a similar crisp, angular tonality – but it is actually recognizable as bergamot, even though a very crystalline version of it. Than a slightly peachy note comes in, as well as the musky, oily-scalp type aldehyde C-11 (Perhaps a reference to No. 5?; overall, Allure brings to mind the soapy cleanliness of No. 22) as well as the full-fledged floral bouquet of rose with underlining green hints, and supported by white floral notes - jasmine and magnolia. Together with the aldehydes it gets quite a "perfumey" personality - very French and not nearly as modern (read: thin and one-dimensional) as the EDT.

It is a little smoother, sweeter and warmer than the eau de toilette, which is a good thing in my book and there is more depth to it. There are crystalline vanilla notes as well, nothing syrupy or pastry-like about it; sheer woods and musks, and an ever so quiet whisper of vetiver – which is probably the best part about Allure (although it's not really all that obvious, it creates an effect that really saves it from being too cloyingly floral and chemical), which gets stronger over time once the aldehydes and florals tone down a bit. It's a clean, bitter, gorgeous vetiver, and smells Haitian alright! At the very end, Allure dries into a pleasant powdery musk, though not nearly as generic as you’d expect (musk is so over used nowadays, in florals like any other genre).

Still, there is a certain acrid, harsh note lurking underneath Allure’s innocent and agreeable purr; and that is something that disturbed me in all other concentrations. It’s not nearly as apparent in the parfum, but it’s still there – making me wonder – what were they thinking including that thing?! And what IS it? It might be the waterlily accord – as it is a very chemical smell (and most “waterlily” scents heavily rely on watery synthetics. It could be this with the vetiver. I smelled a similar note in Dune, and I'm not sure if it's one raw materials or just the result of combining similar notes with some natural vetiver in the mix.

Allure’s olfactory structure is described as a “faceted” one, with illustrated by a hexagon, divided into 6 triangles:
1) Fresh : Citron note.
2) Fruity : Sicilian Mandarin.
3) Timeless Floral : May Rose, Oriental Jasmine.
4) Imaginary Floral : Magnolia accord, Honeysuckle accord, Water lily accord.
5) Woody : Haitian Vetiver.
6) Oriental : Vanilla from Réunion.

A quick glance at this makes one wonder. After all: citron and mandarin (Sicilian or otherwise) are both top notes. The florals in facets 3 and 4 are all heart notes; and lastly, vetiver and vanilla (facets 5 and 6) are both base notes. So it does not exactly convince me that it’s any different form a “pyramid”. The one thing I do get from this illustration of a 6-faceted is the angular quality of the perfume. It is softer than the EDT, and and softens more over time in the parfum version. But there is something sharp and angular, crips and faceted about its personality. I experience it mostly as a linear scent. There is none of the complex evolution that can be found in other Chanel perfumes (say, Bois des Îles) and it’s pretty much offers what its got right from the start, with very little surprises.

Patchoulissime

Powder Puff Flowers by Stigter_H
Powder Puff Flowers, a photo by Stigter_H on Flickr.

Keiko Mecheri’s rendition of the patchouli theme is significantly different from other niche houses’ offerings: it is dominated by clean musks and flowers, which almost take away from its patchoulesque cleanliness and woody dryness. Far more complex than others in its genre – if blind-tested, you’d probably place it elsewhere – in the floral powdery family, perhaps.

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