A flame scent whose tongues reach straight for the heart. A smoke scent, sweetly intoxicating, full of indescribable charm. It could be simple, but its mystery lies in the involuntariness of its boundaries. And that is why it is no longer smoke, but a spirit, fragrant and thick, permeating through. Tom Ford Ébène Fumé opens with exotic accords of palo santo from Gran Chaco. Trees covered with violet leaves burst into flames, the wind tries to tear the puffs of gray smoke to pieces. Nearby, a shaman is performing a ritual, scattering black pepper. Then he throws papyrus stalks and red roses on the skin, pouring juniper oil and a few drops of labdanum on them. The magician sits down on a dry guava log, picks up ebony figurines, dips them in resin, and mutters something. And then everything is engulfed in endless smoke.
