Year: 2005
Notes: champagne, vodka, coriander, cinnamon, cumin, Russian tea, frankincense, birch tar, Russian leather, vanilla, ambergris
"Ambre Russe's luxurious ambergris expresses the unbridled magnificence of the Russian empire in the days of the last tsars. A baroque, splendorous setting, studded with golden bubbles that catch light even as it goes out..."
Opening with a spirituous assault, Ambre Russe's introduction is certainly an acquired taste. And although one doesn't mind boozy openings, the olfactory effect is akin to smelling like an alcoholic, with a strong preference for liquor. But, once beyond this stage, it's pretty much a spicy rendition of amber, infused with smoky nuances from the Russian tea, frankincense, birch tar and leather.
But the thing is, while it's not as overtly sweet and dense as other amber scents, it isn't particularly remarkable either. Firstly, the amber note comes across as too gaunt and insubstantial. Secondly, the composition smells relatively synthetic, at times, though not strikingly. And thirdly, its general performance is severely lacking, with only moderate sillage and staying power. Throw in the challenging opening and one is left with both a frustrating and underachieving amber fragrance.
With some vanilla emerging towards the drydown, one would have preferred a richer structure, with possibly an animalic musk accord and some extra leather to create more edge. As for the ambergris, one finds it laborious to detect any. In fact, one suspects that the base is more about ambroxan than the supposed inclusion of any natural animal musk.
Venturing closer to the olfactory realm of Frapin's 1270 than some of the best niche ambers currently available, Ambre Russe is merely a reflection of Parfum d'Empire's marketing blurb – ostentatious hot air, with delusions of grandeur, and very little substance.
One star deducted for the ominous top notes and brazen aroma chemical underpinning.
Opening with a spirituous assault, Ambre Russe's introduction is certainly an acquired taste. And although one doesn't mind boozy openings, the olfactory effect is akin to smelling like an alcoholic, with a strong preference for liquor. But, once beyond this stage, it's pretty much a spicy rendition of amber, infused with smoky nuances from the Russian tea, frankincense, birch tar and leather.
But the thing is, while it's not as overtly sweet and dense as other amber scents, it isn't particularly remarkable either. Firstly, the amber note comes across as too gaunt and insubstantial. Secondly, the composition smells relatively synthetic, at times, though not strikingly. And thirdly, its general performance is severely lacking, with only moderate sillage and staying power. Throw in the challenging opening and one is left with both a frustrating and underachieving amber fragrance.
With some vanilla emerging towards the drydown, one would have preferred a richer structure, with possibly an animalic musk accord and some extra leather to create more edge. As for the ambergris, one finds it laborious to detect any. In fact, one suspects that the base is more about ambroxan than the supposed inclusion of any natural animal musk.
Venturing closer to the olfactory realm of Frapin's 1270 than some of the best niche ambers currently available, Ambre Russe is merely a reflection of Parfum d'Empire's marketing blurb – ostentatious hot air, with delusions of grandeur, and very little substance.
One star deducted for the ominous top notes and brazen aroma chemical underpinning.
