A Tale of Two Ambers

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times... not really, but what we have here is a perfume told in two chapters, both anchored in amber but shaped by very different moods.

The first is an unexpectedly potent trio of bay leaf, oregano, and coriander - not the fresh, leafy herbs of a kitchen, but something darker and denser. These aren’t green and crisp, but thick, oily, and teetering on medicinal. Imagine running your hand along the bark of an ancient tree, sticky with sap, and then plunging it into a pouch of dried herbs. It’s strange and confrontational at first, but compelling, and makes you keep reading.

As the herbs fade into the background, we turn to chapter two, and the amber begins to glow. There’s a veil of dry, smoky myrrh and rich, balsamic benzoin that rests upon a pillow of vanilla - not powdery or dessert-like, but deep and rounded. Gradually, everything melds into a resinous, ambery warmth, propped up by soft woods that whisper from beneath.

What begins as wild and unruly becomes regal and composed. I picture a nomadic desert prince returning home in embroidered robes, the golden scent of resins, spices, and faraway lands still clinging to his sun-warmed skin.