Tom Ford's Sahara Noir is a scent in my cupboard I've long been ignoring and I couldn't tell you why. It's intensely evocative in an incredibly specific way, so first my nerd review and then a translation for those who don't have a tolerance for silliness.
Sahara Noir is the blazing binary sunset seen from the still, dry heat of sand dune on the desert planet Tatooine; a midnight canyon campfire crackling with the spicy resin of the Japor tree, the aromatic blossoms of the molo shrub, and acrid ribbons of poonten grass incense while the ground rumbles with the snores and snuffles of a slumbering bantha herd nearby.
Which is to say this is the driest frankincense, lemony woodsy pinon sawdust, a circle of fragrant burning woods, and brittle, smoky papyrus ash.
Whatever your preferred fandom or even if you stick solely to reality, Sahara Noir is utterly divine.
Tom Ford's Sahara Noir is a scent in my cupboard I've long been ignoring and I couldn't tell you why. It's intensely evocative in an incredibly specific way, so first my nerd review and then a translation for those who don't have a tolerance for silliness.
Sahara Noir is the blazing binary sunset seen from the still, dry heat of sand dune on the desert planet Tatooine; a midnight canyon campfire crackling with the spicy resin of the Japor tree, the aromatic blossoms of the molo shrub, and acrid ribbons of poonten grass incense while the ground rumbles with the snores and snuffles of a slumbering bantha herd nearby.
Which is to say this is the driest frankincense, lemony woodsy pinon sawdust, a circle of fragrant burning woods, and brittle, smoky papyrus ash.
Whatever your preferred fandom or even if you stick solely to reality, Sahara Noir is utterly divine.