“Amber” has four meanings. First, the trimmings and dust from golden amber are distilled into a burnt-smelling, black, tarry and acrid mass. Rarely used in perfumery (except by me), the bitter aroma needs to be balanced with sweet and balsamic ingredients to make it palatable. Second, is a classic accord of labdanum and vanillin which has a sweet earthiness somewhat reminiscent of ambergris, but not much, and that has been used so long on its own that it now has its own identity. Third, ambergris, is sometimes referred to as “ambra.” Last, is a collection of innumerable compounds that are used to emulate the intriguing scent of natural ambergris tincture. Many of these have strayed so much from ambergris that they now constitute a family of their own. There is a wide variety of synthetics to choose from, each having its own nuances. Ambroxan and Cetalox are the same molecule as one of those contained in ambergris, and are used in small amounts in many different fragrances to give warmth, volume, and sweetness. Ambroxan/Cetalox are fixatives and help the perfume to radiate. Ambrofix is powerful and long lasting and lends an “ambery” note. Andrane has precious would facets similar to those found in ambergris. Cedramber is a well-known amber chemical which, again, has some of the genuine facets of ambergris. It is distinctly woody with cedar aspects. Ambernote, described by one basenotes.net reader as smelling like “bad breath.” It reminds me of my black ambergris tincture which, with its subtle fecal note, grows in complexity as it ages. Ambranol is even stronger and has to be used with considerable caution. Perhaps the strongest and most persistent amber molecule is amber ketal.

While these are just a few of the amber chemicals commonly used in perfumery, they can each be used to add complexity, persistence, and radiance.

While I was fooling around with my first Amber composition, I took a vial of the latest test with me to a lunch date with a French couple. The stuff can be so sexual that when I brought it out near the end of our meal they went rather wild, handing the bottle quickly back and forth, each fighting for a sniff. They cancelled their afternoon museum plans and went immediately back to their hotel.

Because I wanted a fragrance that was deep and rich, I added powerful ingredients to balance the acridity of the amber. Aged patchouli, combined with woody elements (sandalwood, kephalis, oud) and castoreum, fleshed it out and underlined its animal character.

The perfume is powerful and persistent and, as it fades over 12 hours or so, it changes and shimmers as each element comes into focus.

At the end of the drydown, there remains a subtle and hard-to-resist erotic note.

To quote a close female friend: “If I ran into a guy who smelled like that, I’d wrap my thighs around him so fast…”

When I first compounded Amber, I didn’t know about the Odor Effects Diagram. I went by smell alone. Now, it’s interesting to see how the ingredients spread out in the diagram.

Here, my Amber perfume has nothing purely anti-erogenic and, in fact, has no head notes per se—the whole thing just comes out and grabs you. As you continue to smell it, though, further complexity emerges.

There are contrasting effects, especially between narcotic and stimulating. The central thematic material, burnt amber, acts powerfully, in the manner of birch tar oil and is exalting. The materials in the cluster at the stimulating corner of the chart contrast greatly in odor, but not odor effects. (Think of the difference between acrid burnt amber and sweet vanilla; these odors contrast, but both stimulate.)

Some of the stimulating materials share an exalting or a fresh character. Spice oils can go either way. Here, the spices are clearly anti-erogenic. Frankincense, while clearly stimulating, also shares an anti-erogenic lemony top note.

The perfume contains plenty of exalting materials—those materials that both stimulate and exhibit a bit of funk. Oud is the most erogenic and, along with castoreum, provides the necessary animal and dissonant sexiness.

Sultry ingredients are both erogenic and narcotic. Blond tobacco is sweet and narcotic, but has complex animal tonalities that push it toward the erogenic. Dark tobacco, the kind used in French cigarettes, is both stimulating and erogenic, hence exalting.

Narcotic ingredients include Atlas cedar, which has a little funk that pulls it in a sultry direction. Benzoin Siam, being balsamic, is decidedly narcotic.

I don’t know where Jellinek places sandalwood, but my guess is that it’s soothing. It has elements of the narcotic—its sweet gentleness—and yet has an anti-erogenic freshness. Sandalwood, spices, and frankincense all demonstrate anti-erogenic effects.  

The chart leaves me wondering if Amber might have benefited from an anti-erogenic ingredient such as something citrus. I’ll experiment.