Ambre Suprême Les Indémodables 2021
71
Top Review
The real thing!
Few perfume manufacturers have consistently delivered such high-quality work over the past few years as the small workshop 'Les Indémodables' from the quaint Alpine town of Annecy in the Haute-Savoie department of the Auvergne-Rhône-Alpes region. Not only do they place value on convincing concepts, but they also celebrate the maturation process and the now rarely used method of maceration, which involves dissolving fragrance components in fat or oil.
Choosing such a careful approach that honors the quality of the ingredients is anything but a given - and you can smell it!
Part of the collection, especially the early works for which Florence Fouillet Dubois is credited with the composition, has also been given a kind of local fingerprint: tarragon and sage from the surrounding Alps, from which the oil of the fir needles is also sourced.
Equally characteristic in some fragrances is the extreme dosage of a fragrance oil, leading to a kind of showcase of a specific protagonist that, while dominating the ensemble, is carried by the other contributors: 15% tuberose in the fragrance oil content of "Fougère Emeraude," 10% osmanthus in "Cuir de Chine," 10% tarocco orange oil in "Chypre Azural," and now: 10% natural gray amber in "Ambre Suprême"!
10%, that's incredible!
Normally, in 99% of all fragrances that list ambergris (often also ambergris, or ambre gris) as an ingredient, there is actually no ambergris present, but rather the synthetic substitute ambroxan (also cetalox, or ambrofix), as real, natural ambergris is rarely washed ashore and is extremely expensive. Just a few years ago, Yemeni fishermen found a massive 127 kg chunk of gray amber that instantly relieved them of any financial worries.
When whaling was still conducted on a large scale, the situation was somewhat different, as the substance was even used at times in cigarettes, incense sticks, and hair powders.
Today, as sperm whales are fortunately largely left unscathed and since the 1950s a partially synthetic substitute for the complex fragrance structure has existed, gray amber has returned to what it was before the onset of excessive whaling: a luxury good that needs to be found. Thus, real gray amber is now almost exclusively used by natural labels, meaning those that work solely with natural ingredients. For them, gray amber is highly valued and sought after, but also feared due to the immense costs involved in acquiring it.
I once asked Annette Neuffer what she sees as the difference between real gray amber and ambroxan, and she replied that the ubiquitous ambroxan has as much in common with the complex magic of the natural product as a digital sample track does with a symphony orchestra” (A. Neuffer).
She also reported that visitors to her lab who tested a fragrance once with and once without gray amber always chose the version with amber, with one test subject aptly noting that the amber made the fragrance 'more animalistic.' “To put it casually,” Annette Neuffer said, amber is “a background player, but effective, a puppeteer appealing to the subconscious.”
The characteristic olfactory properties of gray amber were finally described by the perfumer as “slightly animalistic, dry, sweetish, tobacco, seashore, seaweed, antique books, warm skin, fresh sweat, slightly salty.”
Bingo!
Anyone who sniffs "Ambre Suprême" will be confronted with exactly this fragrant kaleidoscope.
But first, a radiant, scent-expanding aldehyde complex arches over the opening, like the sky over the endless expanses of the sea, on which a thick chunk of gray amber floats undetectably. In "Ambre Suprême," it is definitely not a background player but is very consciously brought to the forefront by Antoine Lie - it is meant to shine, largely on its own. Everything that joins the complex amber magic in terms of floral and spicy notes (including clary sage, from which sclareol was previously derived to create ambroxan) best accentuates the diverse olfactory facets of the natural substance without ever overshadowing it for even a second.
Sure, the aldehyde complex at the beginning is already enormous - you have to like it! Involuntarily, associations with old Chanel fragrances arise, especially No 5. However, what unfolds in the middle of the fragrance journey, despite all the floral components, goes in a completely different direction: Mitsouko!
Not that "Ambre Suprême" leans on the fragrance language of the Guerlain scent, no, it does not. Thus, the famous peach aldehyde C-14 is missing, as is the deep, rich chypre base, but it is this complex variety of aromas, this richness of contrasts, this aura that reminds me of the 100-year-older Guerlain classic. In a way, "Ambre Suprême" paraphrases it: aldehydes are present, but different, a fruity accent as well, which is hard to grasp (neroli? The amber?), jasmine is indeed found in both fragrances, and in the base, the same oakmoss, which, in conjunction with subtly used patchouli and a softly and tamed appearing immortelle, creates a contemporary chypre sound.
Interestingly, gray amber seems to be experiencing a renaissance lately. And I don't mean the inflationary use of the synthetic substitute in all sorts of fragrance concepts for years, but rather the noticeable effort to inch closer to the original scent profile of amber, even using substitutes, by complementing the missing parts of the complex profile depending on the focus of the fragrance: Arquiste's "Peau," for example, works out the warm skin tones and subtitles the fragrance with the words: “An idealized, skin-like ambergris.” Masque Milano's latest work "White Whale" also features a central amber chord, which Christian Alori has recreated based on natural amber, which served as his “target,” as he candidly explains.
That both fragrances can only achieve approximate values to real gray amber can be studied in "Ambre Suprême": here, the entire complexity feels seamless, the amber chord resting and stable, despite all the richness of contrasts. Not that the chords in "White Whale" and "Peau" wouldn't also be convincing, but this here is truly 'the real thing'!
I have never experienced gray amber more clearly and radiantly. With the old "Dioressence" from earlier, I always thought I had captured it olfactorily before it slipped away from me due to all the base notes. Here, it emanates unfiltered and in full glory.
To enjoy this fragrance, one needs not only a certain tolerance for the wide spectrum of facets of amber but also the willingness and desire to deeply inhale and lose oneself in it. However, those who are indifferent to it, or even reject it due to its animalistic facets, will not find true joy in it.
I am absolutely delighted by it!
Choosing such a careful approach that honors the quality of the ingredients is anything but a given - and you can smell it!
Part of the collection, especially the early works for which Florence Fouillet Dubois is credited with the composition, has also been given a kind of local fingerprint: tarragon and sage from the surrounding Alps, from which the oil of the fir needles is also sourced.
Equally characteristic in some fragrances is the extreme dosage of a fragrance oil, leading to a kind of showcase of a specific protagonist that, while dominating the ensemble, is carried by the other contributors: 15% tuberose in the fragrance oil content of "Fougère Emeraude," 10% osmanthus in "Cuir de Chine," 10% tarocco orange oil in "Chypre Azural," and now: 10% natural gray amber in "Ambre Suprême"!
10%, that's incredible!
Normally, in 99% of all fragrances that list ambergris (often also ambergris, or ambre gris) as an ingredient, there is actually no ambergris present, but rather the synthetic substitute ambroxan (also cetalox, or ambrofix), as real, natural ambergris is rarely washed ashore and is extremely expensive. Just a few years ago, Yemeni fishermen found a massive 127 kg chunk of gray amber that instantly relieved them of any financial worries.
When whaling was still conducted on a large scale, the situation was somewhat different, as the substance was even used at times in cigarettes, incense sticks, and hair powders.
Today, as sperm whales are fortunately largely left unscathed and since the 1950s a partially synthetic substitute for the complex fragrance structure has existed, gray amber has returned to what it was before the onset of excessive whaling: a luxury good that needs to be found. Thus, real gray amber is now almost exclusively used by natural labels, meaning those that work solely with natural ingredients. For them, gray amber is highly valued and sought after, but also feared due to the immense costs involved in acquiring it.
I once asked Annette Neuffer what she sees as the difference between real gray amber and ambroxan, and she replied that the ubiquitous ambroxan has as much in common with the complex magic of the natural product as a digital sample track does with a symphony orchestra” (A. Neuffer).
She also reported that visitors to her lab who tested a fragrance once with and once without gray amber always chose the version with amber, with one test subject aptly noting that the amber made the fragrance 'more animalistic.' “To put it casually,” Annette Neuffer said, amber is “a background player, but effective, a puppeteer appealing to the subconscious.”
The characteristic olfactory properties of gray amber were finally described by the perfumer as “slightly animalistic, dry, sweetish, tobacco, seashore, seaweed, antique books, warm skin, fresh sweat, slightly salty.”
Bingo!
Anyone who sniffs "Ambre Suprême" will be confronted with exactly this fragrant kaleidoscope.
But first, a radiant, scent-expanding aldehyde complex arches over the opening, like the sky over the endless expanses of the sea, on which a thick chunk of gray amber floats undetectably. In "Ambre Suprême," it is definitely not a background player but is very consciously brought to the forefront by Antoine Lie - it is meant to shine, largely on its own. Everything that joins the complex amber magic in terms of floral and spicy notes (including clary sage, from which sclareol was previously derived to create ambroxan) best accentuates the diverse olfactory facets of the natural substance without ever overshadowing it for even a second.
Sure, the aldehyde complex at the beginning is already enormous - you have to like it! Involuntarily, associations with old Chanel fragrances arise, especially No 5. However, what unfolds in the middle of the fragrance journey, despite all the floral components, goes in a completely different direction: Mitsouko!
Not that "Ambre Suprême" leans on the fragrance language of the Guerlain scent, no, it does not. Thus, the famous peach aldehyde C-14 is missing, as is the deep, rich chypre base, but it is this complex variety of aromas, this richness of contrasts, this aura that reminds me of the 100-year-older Guerlain classic. In a way, "Ambre Suprême" paraphrases it: aldehydes are present, but different, a fruity accent as well, which is hard to grasp (neroli? The amber?), jasmine is indeed found in both fragrances, and in the base, the same oakmoss, which, in conjunction with subtly used patchouli and a softly and tamed appearing immortelle, creates a contemporary chypre sound.
Interestingly, gray amber seems to be experiencing a renaissance lately. And I don't mean the inflationary use of the synthetic substitute in all sorts of fragrance concepts for years, but rather the noticeable effort to inch closer to the original scent profile of amber, even using substitutes, by complementing the missing parts of the complex profile depending on the focus of the fragrance: Arquiste's "Peau," for example, works out the warm skin tones and subtitles the fragrance with the words: “An idealized, skin-like ambergris.” Masque Milano's latest work "White Whale" also features a central amber chord, which Christian Alori has recreated based on natural amber, which served as his “target,” as he candidly explains.
That both fragrances can only achieve approximate values to real gray amber can be studied in "Ambre Suprême": here, the entire complexity feels seamless, the amber chord resting and stable, despite all the richness of contrasts. Not that the chords in "White Whale" and "Peau" wouldn't also be convincing, but this here is truly 'the real thing'!
I have never experienced gray amber more clearly and radiantly. With the old "Dioressence" from earlier, I always thought I had captured it olfactorily before it slipped away from me due to all the base notes. Here, it emanates unfiltered and in full glory.
To enjoy this fragrance, one needs not only a certain tolerance for the wide spectrum of facets of amber but also the willingness and desire to deeply inhale and lose oneself in it. However, those who are indifferent to it, or even reject it due to its animalistic facets, will not find true joy in it.
I am absolutely delighted by it!
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24 Comments


What a pleasure your review has been to read!
I've recently been getting into ambergris and its synthetic counterpart, ambroxan.
Reading your words truly transported me olfactorily to another world; I could almost smell the fragrance in all its facets.
Thank you for sharing your knowledge and radiant enthusiasm!
🏆
One wants to catch whales... or test this amazing ambergris fragrance.
By the way, Ambre Supreme is about the only scent with immortelle that I like. And Vanilla Havane from the same brand is the only one with vanilla. That’s quite an achievement.
What I love about the entire Les Indémodables line is that it’s classically inspired but not neo-vintage. You hardly find such an intelligent, tasteful, and highly entertaining play with quotes and allusions anywhere else.