Orchid Soleil by Tom Ford

Prior ideas: Orchid Soleil is promoted as a fragrance derived from the promiscuous and vampiric (and somewhat overrated) Black Orchid, aspiring to give a summer axis, radiant and cheerful. Based on its inspiration in ‘The magic of the sun’s rays’ (that is, an overwhelming originality). Given the premise, it is worth asking about the coherence of the argument, remembering that Black Orchid is dark and promiscuous, trying to emulate the scent of a man’s crotch, transmitting a personality that would make the eunuch woman of Germaine Greer recover her sexual dominance; inevitably, one must ask if Orchid Soleil would have had more room as an independent fragrance before being a flanker of Black Orchid. Although on one hand, noting the annoyance of its private line and the price that Tom Ford entails, it can be assumed that it is favourable that its fragrances disperse in more accessible commercial circuits. Review: Orchid Soleil at the beginning recalls Black Orchid to some extent, not by its scent, but by its incredible power and lack of understandable structure; while Black Orchid at the beginning seemed a mess of ash aromas, Orchid Soleil seems a series of squeals that remind of flowers bathed in oil. Soon the fragrance coagulates its consistency and ends with a bitter essence of spicy oranges. However, upon reaching the apex of the formula, everything is consumed by a base of terribly lactonic neroli (similar to those of Michael Kors) with sweet and fluffy residues of whipped cream, all sprinkled in oil. Orchid Soleil concludes with green flashes of cypress and some lily powder. Worth saying that Orchid Soleil is a fairly interesting fragrance; previously I stated that it has disconnection with its mother (Black Orchid), and it is true that Black Orchid is much more furious, scandalous and promiscuous, while Orchid Soleil abounds in joy, tenderness and comfort. It could be evaluated as ‘The castrated orchid’ of Tom Ford, but it is good to rescue that that is not necessarily bad, as it offers a profitable opportunity for the brand to get out of its tedious Porno-Chic current and inquire into more conventional conceptual lines (and for what the brand is used to, it is fun to observe how Tom Ford risks with what could be his own ‘uroboros fragrance’, that is, a contradictory fragrance that threatens to devour its own concept), and certainly, within summer fragrances, Orchid Soleil is ultimately a fairly original fragrance. Especially for those who didn’t like the testicle scent that Tom Ford has been selling for years. The intensity and longevity are impeccable. Wonderful fragrance, one of the best of Tom Ford.

I received it a few days ago and since then I’ve been very sniffling. The opening has a clear kinship with Black Orchid, with well-mixed dissonant accords. Then it takes a sweetness to my taste, very creamy and little repeated. Until it settles, it has a fairly ‘animal’ character, playing with the quasi-disagreeable and overwhelms me a bit, I don’t know if it’s because of the cold (I have my nose at half capacity…). Then it lowers its aggression against our olfactory system and I notice some citrus veins, luminous and powdery. The truth is, I can understand it being a solar or luminous interpretation of Black Orchid. It’s as if BO had been melted behind a windowpane with lots of sun, taking on a creamy consistency and the dark nuances evaporating… I have the impression that the heat suits it well (it’s very cold in my city now). I also think it’s more pleasant when sprayed at a certain distance from the skin rather than hyper-concentrated in one spot. It admits daily use much more than its black brother. But it also serves for professional and formal use if you increase the intensity with more sprays. By chance, Orchid Soleil mixed with Chance Tendre on my scarf and the combination was beautiful. After using it all day, I add: the final final shares the character with the end of Black Orchid. Edit: I like it more and more. One has to learn to relate to its intense floral, sweet and verdant intensity. It has similarities with other creamy neroli perfumes, such as Lys Soleia by Guerlain (more watery, green and fresh, less sweet) or Terracotta by Guerlain (much sweeter and less complex). But this is the only one I like to use; the others for H or B don’t close for me… This Orchid Soleil is a marvel in my opinion. Its absolute complexity fascinates me.

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.

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.

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.

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 opted for a decant based on the notes and the description of the original great perfume. And although it’s high quality, to me it smells very similar to Alien Acqua Chic, just denser. If you like the Alien line, you might like this.

It smells of plastic and soap, that’s what I feel. The scent is so long-lasting that over the hours it started to annoy me and I had to have a shower.