The head says:
I like the way all of the Eau des Merveilles flankers offer hummable variations on a theme. When there is an almost complete fragrance disconnect between a new scent and its closest sibling (think Coco noir and Coco; Belle d’Opium and Opium) I feel cheated out of a potential olfactory narrative.
Full discolsure: I’ll try anything with ambre in its name.
The nose says:
L’Ambre des Merveilles is immediately recognizable as a member of the Eau des Merveilles family. In a raw sniff, I might confuse this one with Eau claire des merveilles, but side-by-side, l’Ambre des merveilles is quite a bit sweeter, more creamy, less dry; much softer than the original, with none of the Elixir des merveilles syrup.
For comparison, I sprayed on a bit of the original, the Eau claire and the l’Ambre today as I began drafting these sampling notes. An hour later, I was told by one of the guys power washing our house: “You smell nice!” Which is to say, the three hold up nicely in an atmosphere of falling leaves and bleach water.
The heart says:
Hermès and I tend to play well together, and Jean-Claude Ellena‘s compositions are the top of my list. After all, he is responsible for the heavenly l’Eau d’Hiver (Fréderic Malle). I’m partial to his creations.
Each disk-shaped flacon is indeed merveilleux, especially when perched off center: the whimsical, sparkling sky original; the limited edition azure-hued Constellation and Pégase; the opaque metal parfum; and the shiny, sleek, metallic-edged Ambre.
L‘Eau des merveilles makes the strongest statement. Elixir-–too sweet for me. L’Ambre and Eau claire (which share a very similar drydown on me) juuuuust right!
By the way have you seen the the Perfume Shrine’s Eau des Merveilles Timeline? Check it out!
Photo my own.