Tom Ford
A unique visual signature based on accords, character, and seasonality
Pink pepper snaps against bergamot and mandarin, creating a bright, almost effervescent introduction that lasts barely long enough to register before the honey surges forward. The citrus oils catch the light for a fleeting moment, then the fragrance darkens considerably, as if clouds have passed over that burning sun.
Black honey dominates, viscous and almost medicinal in its intensity, while orange blossom absolute blooms in its shadow—heady, heavy with indoles, more opium den than bridal bouquet. Frankincense smoke curls through this duo, adding a resinous haze that makes the sweetness feel ancient rather than confected, whilst the spice accord intensifies, creating an almost peppery warmth that prickles at the edges.
The base settles into a skin-warmed blend where amber, leather, and woody notes create a supple, enveloping finish that clings close. Vetiver adds an earthy, slightly mineralic quality that grounds the remaining sweetness, whilst the resins leave a persistent, almost balsamic trail that feels simultaneously clean and animalic—a contradiction that defines the fragrance's final hours.
Soleil Brûlant translates to "burning sun," and Daniela Andrier has captured that moment when amber resin bleeds into leather—the scent of heat on skin turned slightly feral. This is Tom Ford's honey trap: black honey, thick and nearly burnt at the edges, meeting orange blossom absolute in its most narcotic, indolic state. The pink pepper and citrus opening feels like misdirection, a brief sparkle before the fragrance plunges into something far more complex and shadowed. What makes this compelling is how the frankincense weaves through that honey-blossom pairing, adding cathedral-like smoke without tipping into solemnity. The resins here aren't clean or pretty; they're sticky, almost chewy, with vetiver adding an earthy, rooty quality that keeps the sweetness from cloying. By the time the leather emerges—supple rather than harsh, warmed rather than new—you're left with something that smells expensive in the way only Tom Ford manages: opulent but not polite, sweet but not safe. This is for someone who wants their skin scent to have weight and presence, who understands that "solar" doesn't always mean bright. Wear this when you want to smell like you've been somewhere—a temple at dusk, a private library with leather-bound books, a lover's neck after too much wine. It's unisex in the truest sense: confident enough not to declare allegiance to either side of the traditional binary.
Add fragrances to your collection and unlock your personalised scent DNA, note map, and shareable identity card.
3.8/5 (195)