Orchid Soleil by Tom Ford

I bought a very battered bottle, but 90% of the fragrance is worth it. I’ve wanted this for years and it’s hard to get here; I don’t usually buy decants, but in this case, I did. The bottle arrived shattered, but the spray works brilliantly. I tried it half an hour ago and, wow, it smells like real whipped cream, with a strong hint of chestnuts and something floral at the base. The liquid is so dense it’s cognac-coloured, a beautiful scent I’d never heard of. I don’t understand why it disappeared; it surely would have been very flattering. It’s so intense it reminds me of a super-concentrated cinnamon tea… and well, I love it, I do. I’ll keep updating.

I bought a decant guided by its beautiful notes, which were also described as a great, original-scented perfume. But honestly, despite its great quality, for me it is very similar to Alien Acqua Chic, just denser. If you like the Alien line, this perfume might appeal to you.

The first time I heard it, I was perplexed. At first, it smells very bitter, not orange, but Juanola tablets mixed with bathroom air freshener and eucalyptus gum. Despite that strange smell, it turned out to be addictive, like a guilty pleasure. After a few minutes, I sensed some timid neroli, but they were eclipsed by the opening and never really shone. In the dry-down phase, the magic happens: the whipped cream and chestnut take centre stage and the scent becomes a delicious dessert, without being cloying, that incites self-cannibalism. Over time, perhaps I’ve got used to the opening or learned to appreciate it more; now I do sense the bitter orange (with a mentholated touch), giving an interesting and characterful result. My advice for those who reject the opening is to give it a second chance. Personally, it doesn’t seem like Black Orchid to me; this stands out for being avoirdupoised and lactonic, with that particular bitter and spicy opening.

A delicious, feminine perfume with a lot of presence. It maintains the character of its older brother but is more relaxed. It has creamy, sober and elegant neroli, a bit edible. I didn’t buy it because I love neroli and have many perfumes with that note; this fragrance didn’t offer me anything novel to take home, as I already have Black Orchid and Datura Noir by Serge Lutens, very much in the same line, leaning more towards the latter.

I love this fragrance. The opening is strong, but after an hour, that delicious whipped cream scent comes out. It reminds me a bit of Organza; I think they are similar despite not sharing many notes. One person even asked if I was wearing Organza, so I confirmed there is a moderate resemblance.

I received it a few days ago and have been feeling very sniffly since. The opening has a kinship with Black Orchid, with well-blended dissonant chords. Then it takes on a vegetal sweetness, very creamy and rare. Until it settles, it has an ‘animalic’ character, playing with the almost unpleasant and overwhelming me a bit, I don’t know if because of the sniffles (my nose is half-clogged…). Then its aggression subsides and I notice luminous, powdery citrus notes. I can understand it being a solar version of Black Orchid. It’s as if BO had been melted behind a glass pane with lots of sun, taking on a creamy consistency and the dark nuances evaporating. I get the impression that heat suits it well (it’s very cold here now). I also think spraying it at a certain distance is more pleasant than hyper-concentrated. It admits daily use much more than its black sibling, but also serves for professional and formal wear if you increase the intensity with more sprays. By chance, it mixed with Chance Tendre on my scarf and looked beautiful. After wearing it all day, adding: the dry-down shares the character with the end of Black Orchid. Edit: I like it more and more. One must learn to relate to its intense sweet and green floral nature. It has similarities with other creamy neroli explorers, such as Lys Soleia by Guerlain (more watery, green and fresh, less sweet) or Terracotta (much sweeter and less complex). But this is the only one I like to wear; the others, for H or B, don’t suit me. This Orchid Soleil is a wonder. Its complexity fascinates me.

This perfume shares the DNA of its older sister Black Orchid but is much less strong and heavy. I would say it is a more feminine, cheerful, and luminous version. If at first it reminds me a lot of Black Orchid, it’s as if it were fresher and more bearable. As the hours pass, it leaves a scent where a very subtle orchid predominates, mixed with whipped cream, chestnuts, and caramel. However, unlike Black Orchid which is super potent, this version, although it has good longevity, I don’t feel it has good sillage; it’s a perfume I perceive, but for people to know I’m wearing it, they have to come close to smell me. What a pity.

Previous thoughts: Orchid Soleil is marketed as a fragrance derived from the promiscuous, vampiric (and overrated) Black Orchid, aspiring to a summer, radiant, and cheerful axis. Based on the premise ‘The magic of the sun’s rays’, one might question the coherence, remembering that Black Orchid is dark and promiscuous. Inevitably, one must ask whether Orchid Soleil would have had more merit as an independent fragrance before being a flanker of Black Orchid. However, noting the annoyance of its Private Blend line and the Tom Ford price tag, one can assume it is advantageous that its fragrances are dispersed into more accessible commercial circuits. Review: Orchid Soleil initially reminds one of Black Orchid not by scent, but by its incredible potency and lack of understandable structure; while Black Orchid’s opening seemed a jumble of ash-like aromas, Orchid Soleil appears as a series of flower screams bathed in oil. Soon the fragrance coagulates and ends with a bitter essence of spicy oranges. However, upon reaching the peak, everything is consumed by a base of terribly lactonic neroli (similar to Michael Kors) with sweet, fluffy whipped cream residues, all sprinkled with oil. Orchid Soleil concludes with green flashes of cypress and lily powder. Worth saying that Orchid Soleil is interesting; I previously stated it has a disconnect with its mother, and it is true that Black Orchid is more furious and scandalous, while Orchid Soleil abounds in joy, tenderness, and comfort. It could be evaluated as Tom Ford’s ‘castrated orchid’, but that is not necessarily bad, as it offers an opportunity to step out of its Porno-Chic current and explore more conventional lines. And for what the brand is accustomed to, it is fun to observe how Tom Ford risks his own ‘uroboros fragrance’, a contradiction that threatens to devour itself. Certainly, among summer fragrances, Orchid Soleil is quite original. Especially for those who did not like the testicular scent Tom Ford has been selling. The intensity and longevity are impeccable. Wonderful fragrance, among the best of Tom Ford.