I've stopped asking myself how many amber perfumes one needs about ten bottles ago. The deciding factor is rather simple: if I like it and feel the fragrance adds something special to my amber collection, then yes, I do need it. Enter Ambre Loup by Rania J. The name is quite telling. An amber soliflore with a wild streak in its animalic core. This is where our friends who prefer crisp and cleaner perfumes tend to leave us, skank lovers, to our own illicit pleasures.
The official notes of Ambre Loup's opening list clove and "spices". I smell a Coca Cola-like fizzy cinnamon that's just sweet enough to feel indulgent. I'm reminded of the quirkiness of Dinner by Bobo. However, where Bobo brings in the cumin and the clowns, Rania J. becomes the promised amber perfume, rich, thick, and as satisfying as ambers are for those who like them.
Then comes the twist. Ambre Loup might contain spices and vanilla, but it is not a gourmand. The furry wolf hair and animalic musk it's emitting is not a civet bomb in the style of Salome or Maai. It's smoother and doesn't necessarily try to follow the steps of Shocking de Schiaparelli or Bal a Versailles, which perhaps makes Ambre Loup an excellent introductory and a transition perfume for amber lovers who want to take a step further and explore the darker side. The fragrance is cuddly and friendly enough to feel cozy, but will not bore you out, no matter how many amber bottles are already in your rotation.
Rania J- Ambre Loup ($149, 50ml eau de parfum) is available from Twisted Lily and Luckyscent. The sample for this review was supplied by Twisted Lily at my request.
Art: Tsukioka Yoshitoshi - The moon on Musashi Plain (Musashino no tsuki) from the series One hundred aspects of the moon, (1892)
Glad to see your review of Ambre Loup - it's become one of my favorite ambers. And, like you, I don't question how many amber scents are necessary. Long ago I decided that happiness didn't have numbers attached to it. Well, technically, I realize you could actually quantify it and think in terms of one source of happiness, two, etc. But I don't. To me happiness is something without limits, boundaries, potentially ever expanding (or contracting). My only real regrets these days with perfumes (and where happiness contracts) are over perfumes I wish I'd bought or wish I'd stockpiled before they were reformulated or d/ced (Dinner by Bobo with its brilliant, bizarre name being one of them). Have been in a patchouli mood this past week and find myself dismayed that I don't have more patchouli scents (despite already having what most people would consider an absurd amount). More patchouli scents would just make me happy - would be part of that numberless, limitless flow of happiness. Budget issues, of course, are important, but if I can make it work, then I really see no problem with having an ever increasing number of patchouli scents (or amber or vanilla or incense or vetiver and on and on) that I deeply love. Oh, and just added on to the Japanese art part of that happiness (a significant part for me) by going off to Amazon and getting Yoshitoshi's One Hundred Aspects of the Moon. Thanks for that picture. :-)
ReplyDeleteAnna
Bingo! Your "Coca-Cola" observation is spot on (although the beverage I imagined was root beer). Also accurate is your reference to wolf hair -- there's a point about 30 minutes after application when I could almost swear that there's a wild animal in the room with me. The only thing I might add is that on me this fragrance is tenacious, lasting 24 hours.
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