Silence The Sea

Absolutely gorgeous – easily one of the best perfumes I’ve ever smelled. I can understand why this is polarizing for folks. I first tried it at Hollywood Scent Bar, and I got to witness it evolve on my hand for the next few hours driving around in the canyons; they were generous enough to send me home with a sample which I'm returning to now. Vibe: a golden sunset walk along the Pacific shore. Notes: opens with a sweet, almost urinal / indolic floral note which is piercing at first, but quickly settles down. Once it relaxes, the massive ambergris accord is revealed, and it’s stunning. It is a blend of both clean and animalic ambergris notes, and I’m sure it’s supported by many of the other notes listed in the pyramid, but I don’t detect any specific voices, as it’s a well-blended mixture. The blend truly creates a supporting accord which is all about the natural oceanic vibe of the ambergris. It’s leathery like animal skin, highly mineralic like a bottle of sparkling mineral water, deeply salty like the Pacific ocean, sparkling in texture like champagne, and beautifully multifaceted. It has strong elements of gasoline, rubber, and plastic which are highly naturalistic. Bitter green herbal oils shimmer in and out of the accord. For a few years now I’ve been searching for perfumes that have a true oceanic saltwater note to them; the word “salty” gets tossed around in discussions of many calone-heavy blue shower-gel themed fragrances, and while I do like plenty of those, none of them ever truly smelled like salt to me. Neither do the tart herbal-woody concoctions like Acqua di Sale and its procession of copycats – those are pleasant too, but they don’t smell like literal salt or sea water. Ocean salt: metallic, watery, biting, acrid, fishy, dank, bracing, invigorating, piercing. Anyone who has surfed the California coast knows this smell, taste, and sensation of saltwater in the sinuses, in the ears, total immersion in stinging beautiful cold. I’ve smelled hundreds of fragrances and the only one that – for me – truly comes close to replicating this piercingly sour-bitter effect of ocean water is Tom Ford’s Oud Minérale, which I’ve accordingly supplied myself heavily with. Silence the Sea beats Oud Minérale. Silence the Sea has this beautiful saltiness, but rather than the cloudy and gloomy shroud of darkness in OM, STS has an aura of shimmering golden light. It’s the Pacific shore at golden hour after a long and beautiful day in the water. It hints at the white florals of “sunscreen” fragrances, but they are whispered in the background behind the raw oceanic ambergris accord. It is difficult to know what else to say about Silence the Sea. It’s gorgeous. It’s not mass appealing at all: an uncompromising work of art composed for the seekers of something beyond the ordinary. 100%

I’d say it’s pretty much silent. This isn’t a roaring ocean pelting tropical saltwater and whale vomit into your face as many full-force ambergris perfumes are wont to do, like Mallo’s Cubalibre I fairly recently had the pleasure of acquiring, insomuch as this feels like a very calm, cool sea in the cooler months of the year, walking the shoreline and occasionally picking up and smelling the stones and driftwood that have been continuously lapped with sea water. Oud’s high notes of animalics give the ambergris’s own animalic and ozonic high notes some oomph in the beginning. They smell gaseous and biological, a fair amount of rot with saltiness and muskiness, but they are largely neutered by jasmine indoles and tuberose. The jasmine indoles add a metallic and parching feeling that helps the ambergris and oud smell and feel a lot less like slick rot and vomit, and more like an exotic soap. Likewise for the tuberose, its sharp green edges are absent, and its sweet floral headiness toned way down so that it is in a supporting role that is helping the whole feel more well rounded. Throughout the majority of the rest of silencethesea’s life there is a very pleasant and very pretty undulation between the white florals, a fruity aspect that is a bit hard to pin down, and woods, while never leaving the gentle ambergris plinth that they rest on. At the time silencethesea goes to a skin scent the ambergris is largely what remains with some woody touches and slivers of the sourness from Strangelove’s favorite oud material common to the majority of their perfumes. Seaside tranquility. This is a very well done ambergris centric perfume. It keeps the accord naturalistic whilst giving it several well-judged and proportionate supporting materials that allow its beauty and serenity to come forward, rather than its digested marine animal carcass facets dominating the experience. If you don’t like ambergris, or you do not know what the real thing smells like, odds are you will not care for this, or you will think it’s challenging and it’s going to take some time for you to come around to it. But if you really like or love ambergris - like I do - you will find silencethesea to be an easy, pretty, and very pleasant presentation of ambergris shown a lot of love at Laudamiel’s talented hands.

SilencetheSea takes you on a dark and brooding voyage, exploring everything strange and terrifying about the depths of the ocean. It opens with a green, bitter note of Angelica which paves the way towards a dense and unforgiving oud. Frankincense adds a silhouette of smoky darkness, whilst narcissus elevates the green, animalic edge of the opening. Before long, the star of the show makes itself known - the pure, unadulterated ambergris. This is the truest ambergris I’ve ever smelled, with nothing taken away just to better suit it to western tastes - this is complete animalic glory in all of its challenging facets. This genuinely smells like what I imagine the inside of a whale would smell like; it’s fishy yes, but not how you would expect, the fishiness is fleshy and meaty, thick and tough. The truffle adds to this fleshy accord, giving you fungal hints like the flesh of a mushroom. This fragrance is incredibly hard to wear, and will probably get negative reactions from those around you. I agree with what others have said that this shouldn’t even be classed as a fragrance: but instead as a work of art, an olfactory experience encased in a beautifully modest bottle. This will test your mind and push your senses to the limit, making you question how much you really understand about the art behind perfume. Smelling this up close is almost nauseating. My nose is overpowered by the fleshy, fishy accords and struggles to find enjoyment from it. However, in the air I pick up the most incredible sillage - a dense and salty marine breeze whisking me away to a cloudy thunder-stricken coast with every breath I take. I would advise not wearing this perfume around the neck is it can become overbearing, but instead on the arms and legs, you will better appreciate this scent from afar. I’m still undecided whether to keep my bottle. On the one hand I do think it’s an incredibly creative and masterful work of art, with fantastic quality of ingredients. However, the scent is so challenging to wear I do wonder if it will actually get used - I mean what situation could this possibly be worn in? I’ll most likely just spray on my arm here and there when alone, and ponder what lies in the depths of the ocean...

From the depths of the Ocean, Silence the Sea from Strangelove NYC. I'd say this is the most polarizing perfume I own. Not for me, I love it, but to anyone else. I like sharing it with people only to observe their reactions. There's 10% of the population who loves it, and the remainder. It's a natural Ambergris perfume that smells vividly of the Ocean. The reason why it's so polarizing is because of how accurately it captures that smell. Too accurately. It's not intended to be pretty but rather evocative. I think it's a marvelous achievement. It is daunting, sometimes too much, yet it has a sexual power to it that can't be denied. A mischievous scent. It's a composition blended so well that it creates an overall sensorial experience rather than an easy-to-break-down structure. The ambergris, I'd say brown or black, is always present right from the get-go. Earthy, aromatic, and floral elements orbit around it. The truffle helps with the earthy-like facets, the angelica and chamomile provide a slightly aromatic touch, while at times, tuberose and mimosa spark faint floral nuances. There's also a seaweed smell and an undeniable metallic facet to it. It almost makes me think of fresh blood. And it can be too much at times. However, the longer it blends with your skin, the warmer and silkier it becomes. Even though people hate it if they get a close whiff, they seem rather curious about what you're wearing whenever they catch your trail. It is one of those perfumes that when you smell close up the skin, it can be too much, yet it radiates beautifully in the air. With that being said, after it calms down, the strong oceanic smell lingers on. Imagine swimming around a wooden platform out in the open waters, resting on the wooden pillars occasionally to catch your breath, or swimming around a boat at sea. You get that smell of damp wood, iodine, seaweed, crustaceans, and much more. That's how Silence the Sea comes across, especially if you inhale too close. Brutally accurate, raw, unapologetic. A bold perfume, a call from the depths, for the Sea Wolf inside you. IG:@memory.of.scents

Strangelove's whole schtick is the top-quality oud used in their perfumes, and I have been very impressed so far with their compositions. Silence the Sea can be described as "Strangelove does a marine scent". Dark and opaque, in contrast to the typical aquatic marine scent, STS is the least approachable Strangelove I've tried so far. Bolstered by salty ambergris, the oud is animalic here, dense and pungent, yet somehow with a sterile metallic edge. STS is animalic from initial spray, with salty ambergris dominant from the beginning. I have yet to smell pure, genuine ambergris in isolation, but here it feels realistic. The oud follows, skanky and animalic, more amber-y than woody here. The truffle note follows closely, adding a fleshiness that is almost grotesque. I adore edible fungi, but here, its inclusion feels subversive, even provocative. Glancing at reviews below, I agree with many of the comparisons - new doll, inside of a whale, dead sea matter at high tide, the Dead Sea, fish, seaweed, a fisherman's old coat, the ocean in general. The narcissus gives a hay-like nuance as it develops, alleviating the dense oceanic quality with its pollen-y floral edge. The angelica gives a herbal nuance, resembling seaweed here alongside the oceanic notes. It dries down to a mineralic, slightly metallic musky skin scent, unfortunately resembling window cleaner during its final stages - the one drawback of this scent, and a common pitfall of marine scents. Sillage is moderate and longevity is long-lasting. I can't pinpoint an appropriate occasion to wear this, but, to parrot @Gileshowe below, it would be revolting in the heat. It is unisex. An olfactory artwork that I admire greatly for its evocative rendering of a dark ocean, STS is one of the least commercial scents I've tried. A dark ocean in a bottle. I wouldn't wear this, but I am impressed overall. 4/5.