Ambilux

When I originally smelled 50 ml d'Ambiguïté (the original formulation and precursor to Ambilux) in 2017 I was enthralled by how it was incredibly dirty and almost foul it smelled: a propulsive pong penetrating the nostrils with all manner of human funk, urine-soaked drawers, unbathed bodies and sweating orifices. It was unnerving but utterly fascinating—seeming more like olfactory art, a post-modern cultural object disrupting the landscape of proper and pleasant hygiene—to remind us of our not so civilized and compliant feral nature as human animals. I just couldn't bring myself to wear it. It felt TOO palpable, too authentic, to the point that it would feel almost unseemly to subject myself, my body, to others while it was on my skin. I did admire it, though. When it was reformulated (and refined?) with its new name, Ambilux, some have argued that something was lost: of course there are those detractors who ride the (im)purity spiral that declares original formulations are always superior, as if to reward themselves with more credibility. I, however, while believing this is on the very precipice of decency, flirting dangerously with that red line where the skank is just too much for public consumption, feel it is no longer verging on disturbing. It's erotic, it's dirty, but it's also more of a perfume, allowing ylang-ylang, wildflowers, and weeds to co-mingle with salty sweat, warm and flush skin, nether regions after copulation. It's perverted when up close, but shaped more like a perfected animalic, spicy floral musk in its sillage. It's oily, vegetal, woolly, has that greasy-behind-the-ears, sebum-on-the-cheeks costus, with more cumin than it's predecessor, still vaguely pissy, courtesy of castoreum, and there's a dry smoke especially as it settles like perspiration dripping onto unlaundered bed sheets. It's like punk rock sex, a mattress without a boxspring, right on the floor, Wire's Pink Flag blaring. Ambilux is still so daring, and it's intimidating to wear it on my skin, but at least now I am willing to wear it and allow it to take me where it wants to go. It is definitely a 9 on the skank-o-rama scale (vs 10 as d'Ambiguïté), one of those most animalic scents I've experienced—absolutely brilliant.

I have never been attracted to this brand. Their bottle designs, names, the fact that they brand themselves as being all about animalics all feel contrived and unappealing, even as an enjoyer of animalic notes. But my local niche perfume store, Ministry of Scent in San Francisco, recently began carrying Marlou, so I had to try. I was blown away. And I walked out with a bottle of Ambilux. Ambilux is, yes, animalic (in spirit and inspiration, at least). Sun-dried sidewalk piss, armpit and groin sweat, unwashed hair will all come to mind at various points. I find this much more feral than, say, the warm furs of Serge Lutens Muscs Koublaï Khan or the strong indoles and dried saliva of Parfums d’Empire Musc Tonkin. At the same time, it is far from chaotic. There is a tight, beautiful structure to this scent, recalling the best of the early days of niche perfumery, and even sporting some strikingly “clean” touches. The opening pairs the controversial cumin note with pink pepper in what is essentially a classic aromatic accord taken to new extremes. The pink pepper even lends a brisk, almost soapy clean touch. Then we are led into pissy indoles, a fluffy musk accord, and greasy costus that frame a lean, orderly incense bouquet, almost with a CdG type profile, and not too distant from the chilly, ultra-soapy Incense Extreme from Tauer Perfumes. Indeed, I anticipate that Ambilux will function as a cold weather alternative to Incense Extreme in my collection. Later in the drydown, Ambilux yields to a gorgeous immortelle note and the frank closeups turn into atmospheric wide shots, Barry Lyndon style. And so, I should not be surprised that I love Ambilux. It combines many of my favorite notes and genres: animalic powerhouse, chilly cerebral incense, and dry hillside aromatic cologne. I can’t exactly say that the fearsome reputation of this perfume isn’t justified—it is. This is probably the most challenging perfume in my collection in terms of potential bodily gross out factor. But the gorgeous composition, the wonderful treatment of aromatic and incense notes, makes this a far more captivating fragrance than you might expect.

So many feelings from this one... I’m exploring animalics, and of the samples I received this was the most “body” like. It smelled like straight piss when I first put it on around 4 pm. Immediately after application, my dog reacted by making eye contact and putting his snout in the air giving several marked sniffs. Real talk. I was really intrigued by the description- “elegant, quaint, unnerving”. Incongruent descriptors. Here is my take on how at least two of those work. Quaint: d’ambiguite had a note through its early phase that smelled liked a lambs wool teddy bear I had as child. Seems pretty quaint. Webster’s dictionary also describes quaint as being attractively unusual... This perfume smells like poorly performing deodorant, gentle body funk overcoming “good” smells. I like it, though. Unnerving: It reminds me of the type of person who laughs uninhibitedly, drinks wine freely. It reminds me of the summer, when intimate smells become more pronounced due to fewer clothes and heat. It takes me to a more carefree time in my life, when there were less harsh realities, fewer obligations. I wouldn’t trade where I am now to go back, but this perfume reminds me I can always visit. If it’s elegant, it’s because the composition is so well done. Ignoring the initial urinous note that comes on strong, the composition is expertly balanced throughout. Ambiguite never smells bad or grotesque. Intimate and familiar odors are celebrated deftly. As far as longevity, 7 hours in it’s dried down but still very present. (I also woke up with it faintly lingering on my wrists the next day). The cumin has largely tapered off and incense, animalics, and ylang ylang remain. Not a lot of projection/sillage from the application as a sample, however I have l’animal sauvage from the same house and the bottle sprays are generous and fan out. It projects much better with that application. Edit: also works well as an animalic base to layer with perfumes that need a special kick.

This is very stinky, and I mean this in the sense that this is the living embodiment of stinkiness. However! I would not dare say it's revolting or foul, as some other reviewers have. Now, would a fellow individual on their morning commute on the metro appreciate this? I'll be honest - probably not. But I personally find this to be a very charming stink, if you will. It's comforting in a weird way for me, it's very human but in a "we're a part of the animal kingdom too" way. Definitely was not a fan of this on first sniff, but once I spent a day adorning this I came to really fancy it (you may also take this to signify that Ambilux lasted the whole day on me). Obviously, the cumin and the castoreum are the main contributors to the stank factor of this "knockout" of a fragrance, both are incredibly prominent. It's very animalic, very spicy, and very warm. I don't get the piss notes, but I do get the "wild and dirty animal on a hot summer day" vibes. I'm also the type of person to find comfort in the scent of their old smelly dog, I think this is an important factor of the experience (and this is very much an experience). I don't think you would appreciate this if you find nature, stink, animals, etc. to be gross and shy away from them. Wouldn't wear this everyday, but I enjoy it when I want to be a "nuisance" in public spaces. Oh, and obviously this isn't a safe blind buy, but it's definitely worth the experience in my opinion. I like the concept of getting away from the awfully boring flowery, fruity, and clean everyday city life, being human is pretty gruesome and gross after all. Try it!

After going back and forth on the samples of Marlou ́s 3 perfumes, which I found all to be masterpieces, I knew I wanted one of them. So I ordered a full bottle of Ambilux, that clicked for me by the first sniff. It is an absolute beauty. On my skin sadly the wonderful spicy-bounchy cuminy opening lasts only for 20 minutes. But the heart of this frag keeps on going forever and stays pretty still. It is not a story telling scent rather than a fragrance of the state. I ́m definitely getting that warm animalic funky pissy skank, but it ́s wrapped in incence, spice, cumin, costus, ylang and herbs. The cumin and costus (never smelled costus before, but it must be that) are creating the bridge between the flora and fauna. Somehow this scent puts me in front of an old village church by the forest. This is an old orthodox church with historical local pagan influences. It is late summer or early autumn and everything is turning golden slowly. At the side of the church there is a field of wild plants that are partly withered. In the forest behind there are fly agarics and often the bears and foxes and other wild creatures are lurking around, minding their own business. The sunday service has just ended, and everything stands still. People in the church, animals in the forest, plants on the field, autumn sun in the sky. Love this scent so much! Update: I have not encountered any repulsive reactions from anyone yet. I ́m aware that Ambilux might rub someone the wrong way, and is certainly not everybody ́s taste, but it is absloutely not as challenging as some of the reviews would lead you to think.