Funumai1

There are fragrances that want to please - they greet you with a friendly smile, clean, tidy, almost overly styled. And then there is Ambre Khandjar. It doesn’t come to please. It comes to test you!

Even the first breath is like opening a heavy wooden door in a nighttime bazaar. No glaring lights, no oriental Disneyland - but shadows, smoke, and the faint clinking of metal somewhere in the distance. And in the midst of this twilight: a blackberry. But not the one from your grandma's garden. No - this is the most dangerous blackberry that has ever left a perfumery. Black as pitch, sweet with the precision of a dagger's cut, enveloped in glowing resin.

Then a waxy note emerges - like the fleeting glow of a candle that warms the smoke for a moment. With it, the blackberry changes: it becomes rounder, nobler, sweeter, almost like expensive jam in a golden jar. This moment is enticing - even if the wax itself wasn’t really necessary for my taste. It slightly tames the wildness of the blackberry, making it more refined, more subdued.

Labdanum and benzoin then draw a dark, balsamic trail that brings everything back together. No comforting amber, no sugary glaze - rather the scent of burnt gold and resinous embers. You can smell the heat, but also the decay. Like the last remnants of a feast that smolders in the dawn - and somewhere between the flames lies this blackberry, unscathed and proud.

Ambre Khandjar is not a scent for everyday wear, not a perfume for brunch.
It is a nighttime ritual, a small, beautiful danger in bottle form.

And yes - I like it.
This smokiest, darkest blackberry in the world.

Cleopatra strides through her palace garden,
her green garment glistening in the sunlight,
black kohl accentuating her eyes,
…and beside her, a snake winds over the warm stone floor.

Together they prepare for their game: to welcome the next guest - elegant, seductive, and with a hint of danger. This very image is captured by Stéphane Humbert Lucas before my inner eye.

The opening belongs to the queen: bergamot and green mint initiate the game - fresh, spicy, and radiant, without ever appearing soapy or cool. It is this green, aromatic energy that defines the fragrance - lively, elegant, and with a slightly mysterious undertone.

Behind this green front, warm, sweet notes of dates, saffron, and honey unfold. They give the fragrance depth and luxury, without making it feel heavy or overloaded. Jasmine and rose gently flicker in the heart before amber, vanilla, and a hint of oud form the base - soft, noble, and long-lasting. The green mint remains present, like a quiet, watchful companion.

Primitive. Smoky. Dry.
Frankincense carries everything, cedarwood supports, vetiver gives depth. Pepper whispers, labdanum warms.
Mineral, dusty, almost gravelly. No sugar. No opulence. Just clear, quiet sacredness.

Armani Privé - Bois d'Encens, Armani Privé Collection.
A very personal fragrance for Armani:
Childhood in Piacenza, church visits with grandmother, smoke, stone, quiet moments.
Michel Almairac translates memories into smoke, wood, resin - linear, meditative, alive.
Like an empty church space in summer light, resonating without preaching.

For me, so far the most beautiful frankincense scent. My first niche frankincense ever. I like it very much.
When I travel, see churches, I think of the scent - and of Armani, quietly sitting on the bench with his grandmother.
Minimalistic. Subtle. Intense.
In low doses, an unexcited companion, worn generously almost meditative.
Smoke, wood, resin. Pure. Direct. Unforgettable.
Like a silent shadow between smoke and light that lingers.

Desperado, you have been riding alone and lost through the prairie for years,
the smoke of wood and vanilla lingers in the air,
chestnuts and marshmallows melt over the embers and gently wrap you in sweet memories.

You urge your horse up the hills,
in the canyons hangs your echo.
And what you seek, only you know.
The next valley may be even greener and over there the sunshine glistens golden.
Maybe it is finally your “Eldorado,”
but the loneliness becomes lighter,
when warm ash and sweet smoke
reach your heart like a lost home.

You have been riding along your abyss for years now.
Give your horse the spurs,
you are not lost yet.
At home, someone has been waiting for a long time,
who loves you dearly -
and your fire pit carries the scent of fire, sweetness, and security,
that quietly accompanies you through the night.

---
Inspired by Dieter Thomas Kuhn & Band - Desperado

Original by Eagles - Desperado

Qué Chimba! - in Colombian, it means "How cool!" - smells as if someone sent Tobacco Vanille Eau de Parfum to Colombia and let it fall into an overripe guava.
Sweet, tangy fruit bomb with a vanilla undertone - sounds exotic, but feels like a fruit salad with a nicotine addiction. At times, it even reminds me of fruity shisha tobacco, just in perfume form.

Flabbergasted? Not once.
Love? Completely out of the question.
The only question remains: is this still "wearable" or already "cocktail catastrophe to spray on"?

Que Chimba wants to be a tropical party hit, but is more the type who dances loudly on the table after three Caipirinhas, thinking everyone is having fun.
Spoiler: they are not.

And yet: in the niche, it fits surprisingly well. Where loudness, provocation, and a certain kitsch are not seen as flaws, but as statements. Que Chimba indeed - for fans of this corner, it's a "How cool!", for me, more of a wink and a shrug.