Les Heures Voyageuses - Oud & Ambre
Cartier (2020)

Oud & Ambre by Cartier (2020) is a fairly straightforward amber and oud, presented more on a the dry side, rather than being stuffed with animalics or gourmand notes as some have done in this style. There is a big old New Caledonian sandalwood note right in the heart of this stuff too, which some may equate to the smell of pickles thanks to the synthetic proxy of it making the rounds, so be wary of that if you're not into drier sandalwoods of this type. For the most part, the oud takes a backseat to the amber accord here, so I'd almost say this is more of a dry amber with oud accents, rather than an oud fragrance presented in an amber like the name suggests.

The opening is a big thwack of medicinal oud, with a slight sour phenolic edge that poofs away in moments, replaced by a huge woody-spicy amber that feels similar to Ambre Sultan by Serge Lutens (1993) but even drier than that. Fans of Tom Ford Amber Absolute (2007) that don't to sell the house and the kids for a single bottle of discontinued perfume can also look here, if they're alright with a bone-dry take on the style. The sandalwood moves in last, and the oud accord merges with it to make this mostly woody-spicy in the end, with no roundness, no vanilla, nothing. Performance is dangerous, as with some others from the range, so be careful not to gas yourself out when applying.

I like my ambers dry, but not this freaking dry, so I have to deduct points for that. I also am not the biggest fan of the Lutens take on amber (blasphemy I know), or the way Tom Ford turns amber into a clown show with his many bombastic front-loaded Private Blend releases he drops yesterday and discontinues tomorrow (much like Amber Absolute) to catch the novelty addiction the nouveau riche seem to have. If you are a fan of big, dry spice amber accords, with noticeable labdanum, a sliver of woody-oud, the dry sandalwood that fills the air in upper Manhattan socialite circles, and performance that lasts for days, this bud's for me; it's just not for me. Neutral

I don't find Oud & Ambre very similar to Grand soir, with its outreach to the contemporary craving for quick gourmand enchantment, but rather to Chanel's moody Le Lion. But where Le Lion roars a bit, this lion rests with paws crossed by the gnarled tree with its precious rot, the last rays of sun illuminating its anomalously splendid mane. Oud & Ambre reads to me as very masculine for the first half hour, before a gorgeous buttery, almost boozy wood surfaces. If this were cuisine, we would be stirring intensely reduced stock in a large copper pot, seeing it coat the spoon with dark velvet, before pouring some into a small pot to add cognac, butter, cream, and salt. The oud is unmistakably present, with a hint of ambergris, but the emergence of a savory buttery aura is remarkable. I wasn't immediately sure about this for my own wardrobe, but the longer it sits, the more I can't resist smelling my hand.
A puzzle: Why are so many oud perfumes named as just a list of ingredients? The ampersand in Oud & Ambre, and the other names in the "Les Heures voyageuses" series, simply makes them harder to type into search fields. Without adding the name "Cartier," the series is difficult to locate. This is much more than the sum of these two parts, oud and amber.

Very rich, deep and smoky amber. This is similar to Grand Soir, but its almost like a logical evolution of the MFK, this goes into the burning wood chip territory, a very realistic smell also. This is serious and dressed up. Night time and winter ready, for the best experience. Nothing casual or daily-wear with this one. This is enchanting and intoxicating, and will sing its song deep into the nighttime every time you wear it. A fantastic release by Cartier. Worth the money for sure.