Ambre Gris Eau de Parfum fragrance notes
- rose, geranium, sandalwood, cedar, amber, coumarin, vanilla, labdanum, musk
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Latest Reviews of Ambre Gris Eau de Parfum

The traditional amber note consists of vanilla, labdanum and that's what you find here as the skeleton, wrapped with the traditional overdose of powdery rose, bit of sandalwood and coumarin.
It will be complimented, majority of people tend to love scents like that from the strangers. Anyway to me this is not an ambergris scent.

The opening of Ambre Gris is sweet and breathy, just like ambergris is supposed to be, with a bitter artemisia mixing with a salty blast of ambroxan meant to announce the ambergris star of the show. The next phase is a fairly bog-standard rose and geranium combo, feeling a bit dandy and a bit powdery as it passes through coumarin and some woody aromachemical elements until the amber base appears. This is a labdanum-heavy amber very much similar to what Avon uses as their house amber note, so if you don't like the idea of paying $200 for something a 130+ year old value brand uses as the base in their fragrances, here's your second turn-back sign. Continuing on, we find some ethyl vanillin and javanol (gosh Perris likes using those a lot), alongside some vague white musks, a bit of that breathy ambergris vibe coming back, and some benzoin. Overall, this could be something Avon themselves put out in the 1950's complete with that same musty old handbag vibe those nitromusk-laden ambery perfumes are (lovingly) known for, but swapping out the banned stuff in them for a bit more-updated chemistry. Wear time is about 10 hours of moderate but steady sillage, so you get bang for buck in the performance territory, but where you'd want to smell like this is up to you.
At its most basic Perris Monte Carlo Amber Gris smells good, and pretty unisex as floral sweet ambers go (although some may say "grandma" smelling), but in such a crowded field of high-end ambers as the one it enters, I think Ambre Gris gets lost in the shuffle. Add to that the fact so many people have pegged an Alyssa Ashley fragrance made under the same corporate umbrella by a perfumer who also has worked with Perris Monte Carlo themselves, and you're quickly left to wonder how relevant this is to collectors of niche perfumes? I mean if they really are that close, why not just buy the Alyssa Ashley for one-tenth the price and deal with whatever likely small quality dip you'll find for taking a 90% discount? If this is true, the lesson here is don't clone your own fragrances and sell them for discounted prices under a different name plate, because savvy fragrance enthusiasts will reach for the cheaper one every time unless they want to flaunt spending power. All told, I think Perris Monte Carlo Ambre Gris is an okay fragrance, but at the $200 price point, just being an okay fragrance, not to mention one that doesn't completely smell like what it's named after, is a one-way ticket to being forgotten. Sample first, and see for yourself. Neutral
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Intial application takes you right to an ultra-smooth, powdery sweet amber-coumarin spice opening, thick in structure. Floral elements drench the heart of this sensation, and what I get is a slightly "active" motion between an untold number of fine ingredients known and unknown in this EdP.
Wow, Ambre Gris feels like a dreamy trip into the heart of romantic feelings of love, devotion, and sophistication. Patchouli is very evident amidst this dream, along with a general dry woodiness contructed from the lovely cedar, exotic sandalwood, paired up with rock rose; musk dances flirtatiously within, not drawing attention to itself but not easily ignored. Intimate, attentive, lush in its expression, Ambre Gris does not disappoint as a beautiful oriental scent that either gender can enjoy.
Love this EdP. :-)

Ambre Gris is a tough composition to like. The davana open is quite nice, but it only lasts five seconds before the extremely odd salted smoky amber arrives in all its glory. This is obviously what the perfumer is trying to portray as ambergris, but if this is what ambergris is supposed to smell like, I know I don't like it. This holds especially true with the musk and geranium pairing that adds to the off-putting nature of the composition. The late dry-down is tolerable, but it is not even close to enough to save this disappointing concoction by Perris. The bottom line is the $155 per 100ml bottle Ambre Gris by Perris is a weird smelling approximation of rare ambergris that is extremely difficult to tolerate sniffing let alone wearing, earning it a "poor" 2 stars out of 5 and an avoid recommendation.

There are no prominent top notes in Ambre Gris but it does open with the briefest "sparkle", which suggests orange to me, particularly on paper. Otherwise, straight away we are into an airy floral accord of rose and subtle geranium. But these early stages are only a prelude anyway, to the heart of this fragrance, which is a beautiful dry, dusty amber with salty notes , a wallop of musk, and something softly animalic. I emphasise "softly" animalic because there is nothing at all skanky about this fragrance, but it is there is definately an undertow of salty warm intimacy.
The mid development reminds me very much of L'Air de Rien by Miller Harris. Both fragrances have notes of dry, dusty old books, melancholy rooms with old wooden clocks, dust dancing in the light, and both fragrances have something of the body about them. Ambre Gris is easier and more wearable in my view. It has a slightly aromatic feel which makes it more friendly somehow. I imagine at times that there is a little heliotrope in Ambre Gris which plays a lovely part, although it is not listed. The base is a rich ambery/woody/ balsamic/ vanilla. Ambre Gris does wear quite close to the skin which I think is appropriate for this one as it is an intimate fragrance, best shared close up.

6,5-7/10
