Fars

Fars opens with a sharp medicinal slap—cade juniper's tarry, phenolic bite cuts straight through the lavender's herbal sweetness, whilst bergamot adds a citric brightness that barely softens the blow. This is no polite aromatic; it's a woody juggernaut that immediately establishes its spicy-resinous character before the heart reveals its complexity. The geranium brings a rosy-metallic facet that dances with jasmine's indolic richness, both grounded by cedar's dry pencil shavings. But it's the interplay between these florals and the base that makes Fars compelling—the patchouli and vetiver create an earthy, almost muddy foundation that the oud (subtle, more woody than animalic) threads through with quiet insistence.

The amber-sandalwood accord rounds everything into a warm, skin-close finish, though the spice and wood never truly relent. Fars wears like expensive wood panels in a Levantine palazzo—polished but not precious, refined yet decidedly masculine-leaning despite its unisex billing. It's for someone who finds conventional ouds either too barnyard-aggressive or too sweet, seeking instead a woody composition with oud as accent rather than protagonist. This is a scent for cooler weather, for considered occasions where you want presence without performance. It doesn't shout; it commands attention through sheer material quality and the confident way it handles both its floral and resinous elements without letting either dominate. Ideal for those who appreciate Tauer's darker works but want something more traditionally structured.