Colette's powder puff - Annick Goutal's Ambre Fetiche

I had never considered myself a true amber lover, since I'm not at all a fan of the sugary-sweeter ambers, such as L'Artisan's L'Eau D'Ambre, Jalaine Amber, L'Occitane Amber etc. L'Artisan's Ambre Extreme and Montale's Blue Amber, with their more woody, burning brazier character, are the ambers I enjoy and wear regularly. I even consider Blue Amber to be close to the ever-evasive "Holy Grail" scent for me. Therefore, since I always considered myself an incense fan, I assumed that more incense-y ambers were far more my style - resinous ambers are what make my heart flutter, not the more vanilla-sweet ambers.

I might have to reconsider that notion, upon smelling the development of Ambre Fetiche on me. (again, accent removed for sensitive RSS feeds.) At first, the first notes were a bit of a distraction. On a blotter there's a strong iodine smell and a distinct swabbing alcohol scent, as though they used a weird denaturing element in the SD alcohol. There's also that fun new-car leather smell, which fades relatively quickly. On me, the first blast is of almost synthetic sweetness, coupled with a Band-Aid fragrance that is the fatal flaw of certain leather accords. It runs nearly immediately into the traditional benzoin-iodine smell reminiscent of Betadine hospital wash. However, within a few minutes I was out of the hospital and something romantic yet fairly subversive was happening on my skin.

Maybe it's due to the labdanum and styrax in it; maybe it's the lightening factor of earth-powder orris. Maybe it's the deepening of the leather accord in the base; I'm not really sure. What I am sure of is that after 15 minutes, the sweetness in this blend isn't obtrusive or overpowering - the almost tacky innocence of syrup-sweet amber grows up in a hurry. The powder and leather notes mix with the labdanum, styrax, frankincense and vanilla in such a way that you know the fetish indicated is not involved in lust but in love; somewhere between incense and amber, the fragrance seeks more than a single base interaction.

After an hour on my skin, the scent turns into a laudanum-laced powder, giving impressions of being dusted on with grace before donning whatever outfit would cause the latest whispering. In further-gone days, the armor of a woman was her makeup, and even those who flouted tradition and created scandals would wear it. As I was gathering impressions, Colette came to mind instantly, for her straightforward approach to life and her almost endearing desire to be loved. The sweetness here invokes romance, not innocence.

Both on the blotter and on my skin, this is a bedroom scent without being skanky or bombshell about it. It is a sweet amber without syrup on me, indulgent without being decadent, comforting without being cozy. While it doesn't unseat my other two favorite ambers, it easily ousts a great many "scents I shall wear while courting."

photo courtesy of marcelproust.it