I remember Lithuanian winters while waiting for the dawn during the first lessons and seeing dusk already at 4.00pm. I remember piles of books from the library, wading through the snow, cigarettes and some big sadness in it. Drinking tea, freezing feet, theatre, long walks, my long black coat and my birthdays in January.
Then I take Ambre Russe and everything instantly returns.
The Parfum d’Empire masterpiece Ambre Russe, created in 2003, is a breaking-your-heart-in-a-second fragrance. Unconditional love at first sight which instantly brings the deepest secret emotion back, just like two hands rolling a carpet down the stairs.
Ambre Russe opens with a fairly strong alcoholic note mixed with honey. Vodka and solid crystallized honey with beautifully intense amber behind them. After a few minutes vodka fades away and the smell of black tea with a slice of lemon begins to unfold – straight from a boiling Russian samovar. Simultaneously you can feel some leather, like a picture of heavy snowy leather boots drying by a fireplace. There is light incense, cinnamon and coriander in the air. A dark evening of Anna Karenina who’s come home to her wooden room with upholstered walls, started letters, tea cups and tired sweating horses outside.
Ambre Russe is so lavish and baroque, so noble and tsarist, but not suffocating, not sticky. Rather the opposite – it’s lifted up from the earth, it’s thoughtful and forgetting. It’s extremely complex, balsamic, soft and embracing, warm like a crackling fireplace in the room, a knitted scarf on shoulders and clasping hands.
Suitable for cold and dark winter days when you need protection and home feeling; when you can’t bear gossip, loud voices and coffee anymore. When you remember yourself and you feel so sorry for yourself that you almost break out in tears, but all you can do is pull yourself together and remain silent.