Creme de la Creme Areej Le Doré 2024

I confess. Guilty of judging this fragrance far too early.
But let me start like this. I no longer buy anything blind - period. I have fallen flat on my face too many times regarding blind buys, and at some point, I thought it wise to take Einstein's quote to heart: “The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.” Therefore, I now test beforehand, although this also carries the risk of not being able to buy a bottle due to increasingly frequent, strong limitations.

To be honest, there wasn't much for me in Adam's recent releases, but since I have been fascinated by Animalika since the beginning of my passion for fragrances, I had to at least test the entire Musk Collection.

So I tested “Creme de la Creme” and was speechless… speechless because it smelled so boring. Somewhat over-seasoned, somewhat creamy, and somewhat like modeling clay, and I’m not talking colloquially about the physical kind of our main currency but rather the type of clay that children use to build strange figures, and one gets upset that it seems impossible to simply NOT mix the individual colors into a gray lump. Be that as it may, I didn’t particularly like it and set the sample aside more than unimpressed. A few days later, I was actually going to spray Cuirtis, but apparently, I grabbed the wrong sample and completely doused myself. “Wow, Cuirtis is great but completely different than expected.” When I put the little spray back, my expression probably resembled that of the little “we are going to Disneyland” girl in the backseat of the car (EVERYONE KNOWS IT).

It was CC. I was totally blown away. How could it be that I suddenly perceived the fragrance so positively? Sure, still a spicy opening, light pepper, a bit of nutmeg and sage, but at the same time, I found myself in the most beautiful amber-oud cloud I have ever smelled. No cola, no marzipan, just oud and ambergris in a way that I had never experienced before, completely free from any associations. The oud from the Philippines, classified as “sinking Grade,” which essentially means that the wood is so infected that the amount of resin formed in reaction is so high that it sinks in water, is according to Adam the highest quality oud he has ever used and extracted for a fragrance. On my skin, it comes through super prominently. Completely free from fermentation or animal notes, it unfolds a beautifully resinous, slightly mineral “blue” scent that complements the main player of this composition extremely well.

Now to the real star of this fragrance. Ambergris. Even in the world-famous novel “Moby Dick,” Herman Melville dedicates an entire chapter (92) in lyrical form to Captain Ahab about this equally mysterious and fascinating substance, writing: “I forgot to say that in this ambergris some hard, round, bony plates were found, which Stubb first thought might be the buttons of sailors' sweaters; but it later turned out that they were nothing more than pieces of small squid bones that had been embalmed in this way.”
That the immortality of this highly fragrant amber is found at the heart of such decay - is that not something? Think of the words of Saint Paul in the Corinthians about decay and incorruption, that we are sown in dishonor, but raised in glory. And also remember the saying of Paracelsus about what makes the best musk.”

The ambergris still growing in the belly of the whale serves solely to protect the sperm whale's digestive tract from being turned into minced meat by razor-sharp squid beaks. Yesssss… nature. That this stuff smells extremely attractive to some people is of no concern to the marine mammal underlying Moby Dick.

In the case of CC, however, white ambergris was used, which floats on the water's surface for months or even decades, drying out in the sun and “ripening” into a stone-like chunk that loses any fecal aspects that are clearly noticeable in fresh ambergris.

Three different tinctures are used. 5%, 10%, and ambergris resinoid, which is equivalent to a 100% concentrate. I contacted Adam about this, and he explained to me that an extremely concentrated tincture is heated until the entire liquid evaporates, resulting in a beeswax-like consistency.
Call me a chatterbox, but I claim that one can perceive the different concentrations. If one is a bit familiar with and engaged with the raw material, one can clearly recognize countless facets of this diverse substance. Nuances of tobacco, vanilla, caramel, various resins like benzoin and frankincense accompanied by a fine menthol freshness combined with an unbelievably beautiful, slightly mineral, balance-creating saltiness that reminds one of sun-dried skin on a Caribbean vacation.

The addition of sandalwood and ylang-ylang creates a creamy texture that, in my opinion, perfectly contrasts the dry, resinous aspects of oud and amber. In the meantime, a very light sunscreen character even develops on my skin.
In his presentation video for the Musk Collection, Adam says about CC: “I wanted the result to be quite minimalistic.” This statement holds true in that the main focus of the fragrance actually lies on just three ingredients: ambergris, oud, and sandalwood. However, a paradox arises from the incredible complexity that each of these raw materials CONTAINS.

I have now intensely engaged with the fragrance for a week, and with each wear, it gets even better for me. Whether the fragrance will continue to mature and how it may change, I cannot predict, but even if it stays exactly as it is now, it is a 10/10 for me. There hasn’t been a composition that has captivated me like Creme de la Creme since “Rauque.” I am already looking for a backup, and that’s despite the fact that I initially disliked it so much. This shows me once again that one should never judge too quickly and that this realization, when applied to all areas of life, represents a credo that positively influences many things in the long run. Thank you for reading.