Reserve Collection: Bois Marocain

4 reseñas

Mostrando las más recientes primero.

• Scolderfdf

  July 6, 2021

  

  It’s a delight of woods and spices, this genius from TF. It’s hard to find in Mexico as it has been discontinued, but I managed to get a partial bottle at a decent price a few months ago. The first thing it reminds me of is the scent of sharpening expensive wooden pencils or crayons I used in my childhood; this aroma combined with the peppers, and after a while, I perceive a delicious patchouli mixed with bergamot. It has very good longevity and notable projection. In my opinion, it’s a delight, and it’s strange there aren’t more reviews in Spanish. If you manage to find it, especially at a good price, don’t hesitate to get one. On eBay it ranges from 200-250 USD.

• Scolderfdf

  July 14, 2021

  

  It’s a marvel of woods and spices, a gem from TF. In Mexico it’s hard to come by as they no longer sell it, but I managed to get a partial bottle at a good price a couple of months ago. The first thing it smells like is sharpening those expensive wooden pencils from my childhood, and then it mixes with pepper, after which a delicious patchouli with bergamot appears. It has great longevity and notable projection. It seems a delight to me, and it’s rare that there aren’t more reviews in Spanish. If you find it, especially at a good price, don’t hesitate to buy it. On eBay it ranges from 200-250 dollars.

• Espartaco

  December 9, 2022

  

  On my skin, it doesn’t smell much like Rush. Perhaps that touch of creamy green wood emerges as it dries, but I wouldn’t link them. It’s as if all lily-based perfumes, for example, sound the same. Bois Marocain is much rougher and more opaque than the beloved Gucci, which served an overdose of woods and aromas on a tray of synthetic drugs and USB cables. And it’s curious; I knew nothing of this Tom Ford’s notes when I splashed two ml on myself, but while it lasted, I thought I smelled sandalwood… sandalwood, sandalwood, and more sandalwood. Moreover, it’s not particularly sexy or ambiguous like the Rush version, which takes it to the extreme; no, it’s a waxy sandalwood with an exhausting slowness, like beeswax, which actually started to bother me. My surprise was checking the pyramid of this supposed sandalwood soloist and seeing that it doesn’t even contain it, yet there are more notes I haven’t managed to identify in the slightest. Incense? Excuse me, I didn’t feel it even wanting to; it’s one of my favourite notes. Patchouli and cedar? Neither, at least not as I’m accustomed to feeling them, and look how decent my olfactory memory is because I’ve sampled here and there over the years, from ten euros to two hundred, without closing myself off to anything from an Adidas line to Amouage. I think it’s the best way to build a file in the head, not to obtain a chair in perfumery, something I don’t aspire to because I’d lose my life doing it, but to know that depending on the blend, the trends, the perfumer, or the molecules, one thing can smell like something completely different to what you believed. For me, during the test, both on the hand to sniff, which I love, and on the neck and on demand, Bois Marocain is a very woody sandalwood perfume combined with another raw, almost organic green facet coming from vetiver. And considering there is no sandalwood but its illusion is there, it undoubtedly comes from the cross between cypress and that note I’ve never smelled before but which is a conifer. To avoid going round in circles: an opening that is blurred and anemic, like wood molecules more fake than a wooden pound coin, eh, garnished with that bubbly and sparkly tone of pink pepper. It lasts nothing and less until the current that will dominate is established, a single layer of fake sandalwood (cypress and woods to the death), heavy, matte, and pale, with a slightly exhausting touch; at one point in the transition, it acquires certain aromatic and fleshy moisture thanks to the vetiver, which feels of great realism. And so until the end. It could be a unisex worn by interesting women, but it leans masculine; I haven’t liked it too much for finding it too coarse, without light, but it seems noteworthy that Ford, known worldwide for narcotic orientals, has on offer more robust, classic, and vigorous compositions with his arty little touch than the Tobacco Vanille and co., which makes me hate that stickiness I can’t stand. Weak trail, medium longevity. The bottle is monotonous, like the whole Private Blend line.

• Espartaco

  December 17, 2022

  

  On my skin, it doesn’t smell much like Rush. Perhaps that touch of creamy green wood emerges as it dries, but I wouldn’t link them. It’s as if all lily-based perfumes sound the same. Bois Marocain is much rougher and more opaque than the beloved Gucci, which served an overdose of woods and aromatic notes on a tray of synthetic drugs and USB cables. And it’s curious; I knew nothing of this Tom Ford’s notes when I splashed two ml on myself, but while it lasted, I thought I smelled sandalwood… sandalwood, sandalwood, and more sandalwood. Moreover, it’s not particularly sexy or ambiguous like the Rush version, which takes it to the extreme; no, it’s a waxy sandalwood with an exhausting slowness, like beeswax, which actually started to bother me. My surprise was checking the pyramid of this supposed sandalwood soloist and seeing that it doesn’t even contain it, yet there are more notes I haven’t managed to identify in the slightest. Incense? Excuse me, I didn’t feel it even wanting to; it’s one of my favourite notes. Patchouli and cedar? Neither, at least not as I’m accustomed to feeling them, and look how decent my olfactory memory is because I’ve sampled here and there over the years, from ten euros to two hundred, without closing myself off to anything from an Adidas line to Amouage. I think it’s the best way to build a file in the head, not to obtain a chair in perfumery, something I don’t aspire to because I’d lose my life doing it, but to know that depending on the blend, the trends, the perfumer, or the molecules, one thing can smell like something completely different to what you believed. For me, during the test, both on the hand to sniff, which I love, and on the neck and on demand, Bois Marocain is a very woody sandalwood perfume combined with another raw, almost organic green facet coming from vetiver. And considering there is no sandalwood but its illusion is there, it undoubtedly comes from the cross between cypress and that note I’ve never smelled before but which is a conifer. To avoid going round in circles: an opening that is blurred and anemic, like wood molecules more fake than a wooden pound coin, eh, garnished with that bubbly and sparkly tone of pink pepper. It lasts nothing and less until the current that will dominate is established, a single layer of fake sandalwood (cypress and woods to the death), heavy, matte, and pale, with a slightly exhausting touch; at one point in the transition, it acquires certain aromatic and fleshy moisture thanks to the vetiver, which feels of great realism. And so until the end. It could be a unisex worn by interesting women, but it leans masculine; I haven’t liked it too much for finding it too coarse, without light, but it seems noteworthy that Ford, known worldwide for narcotic orientals, has on offer more robust, classic, and vigorous compositions with his arty little touch than the Tobacco Vanille and co., which makes me hate that stickiness I can’t stand. Weak trail, medium longevity. The bottle is monotonous, like the whole Private Blend line.