Tag Archives: L’Air Du Desert Marocain

Andy Tauer Eau D’Epices: A Sparkling Spice For Summer


I have just received my sample of Eau D’Epices from Scent and Sensibility and I have fallen for it already, despite us having only just met. Despite my deep love for L’Air Du Desert Marocain (my first experience of Tauer scents) I find it too heavy on a hot day (but just right for a hot night).  However, Eau d’Epices provides my answer for the Summer.


Imagine if you will, L’Air Du Desert Marocain with its dusty dried incense notes, so reminiscent of hot spiced sand, but with an ice cube dropped into the middle of it as if to quench a thirst. The Citrus notes in Eau D’Epices give me that sparkling brightness, making it ideal for when the heat is on.

However, don’t be fooled by the “Eau”: this is no lightweight cologne.  With typical Tauer longevity (which is why I never criticise the price: you pay for quality), Eau D’Epices lasted at least fifteen hours on me and there was still a hint of it on my arm when I woke up.

What lightens it are the bold white notes of Jasmine and, most prominently, Neroli.  As I may have mentioned in earlier posts, I don’t really get on with Neroli when it’s a solo star, but when surrounded by other notes I find it can be showcased beautifully, as it is here.  The Neroli lasts through the top, middle and base notes, and blends into the embers of a typical Tauer base of Vetiver, Ambergris and Incense.

Eau D’Epices changes and evolves throughout the day so that it starts as a bright spicy citrus, morphs into a dusky white floral and ends up as smoky amber embers. My nose can’t leave my wrist alone today.

Speaking of white flowers, I can’t wait to see what the forthcoming Sotto La Luna will be like in September 2014. Gardenia is one of my favourite notes and I can’t wait to see what Andy does with it.


Andy Tauer L’Air Du Desert Marocain: At Last We Meet


I’ve seen perfumistas on many a board sing the praises of L’Air du Desert Marocain. I was curious to try a sample, but not curious enough to buy a full bottle. I remember all too well my eager foray into the equally revered Ambre Sultan by Serge Lutens, only to dislike it quite violently.

 L’Air du Desert Marocain was quite the opposite, however. I’ve heard a lot about it. I’ve seen it around (in my friend’s scent stash at least) , and finally, today my wrist met the spray. It’s no coincidence that the immediate adjectives that come to mind are ecclesiastical: Divine and Heavenly were the first words that entered my head. This is a close relative to my beloved Comme Des Garcons Series 3 Incense:Avignon, the ultimate scent of Catholicism, with authentic guilt inducing price tag.

What Tauer has produced however, is less linear that CDG Avignon and more complex.  L’Air Du Desert Marocain has several layers and even after a first spray , has a lovely faded grandeur about it. It smells like a background smell. It’s not harsh or loud. If you met me right now you would ask me how Evensong went ( I would be infused with the smoke of incense), but probably not think I was wearing a scent at all.

Top notes are Caraway, Coriander and Petitgrain, but I must confess, all I get is incense and a whiff of hay. Middle notes include Rosehip and Jasmine, but I get no flowers at all. Base notes include Vetiver, which  is used beautifully and sparingly to add a grassy leather note, as well as Amber, which is also warmly noticeable, and Cedar, which I don’t detect at all.

This is the perfect Christmas Eve scent, and therefore totally out of step with today’s sunny weather. However, I am going out this evening, so all bets are off and I’ll wear what I like. And what I like is this. If there’s any left on my skin on Sunday, then even better. It smells like Sunday morning anyway.

Like CDG Avignon, this is playing hard to get in the UK, although samples and full bottles are available online from UK suppliers Les Senteurs.  I adore the smell of church incense, and I adore this. It would smell incredible on a man too, but if I did manage to get hold of a bottle, I can’t see me sharing it.