Reviews of Le Maroc pour Elle
by Tauer

Le Maroc Pour Elle is beautiful: it is lush, soft, sophisticated, and has just a little bit of smoulder.

The soft rose and lush jasmine come across as fresh and inviting throughout the life of the fragrance (sillage is good, and longevity is very good). The florals are dewy and alive, and I never tire of smelling them.

The petitgrain and lavender give the florals an edge that stops them from falling into the too sweet category—in much the same way that the basil enhances the complexity of the florals in Boucheron EDP. I can’t smell where the petitgrain ends and the mandarin starts, and can only describe the combination as a very engaging almost bitter orange.

The woods and patchouli provide an anchor for the florals without ever overpowering them, and every now and then a slight hint of chocolate peeks out to give the woods a subtle twist. This base is simultaneously ultra feminine and substantial.

Le Maroc Pour Elle is as beautiful as Andy Tauer’s Incense Rose, and is as sublime as its stable mate is paradoxical.

Maroc? This is the best perfume rendition yet of the smell in an Indian convenience store - that unique combination of spices wafting through their plastic bags, incense, sandalwood soap, jasmine and orange-blossom scented hair oil. Very good ingredients, no particularly strong rose, a rather sweet amber base. Nothing particulaly gendered about that, but it does get more florally sweet on the drydown. Serge Noir is smokier and Ambre Sultan spicier, but this is the one for Bollywod fans.

I'm afraid this one wasn't to my liking and the experience wasn't a very pleasant one. All I got was this overpowering cornstarch accord.

No thanks!

[Original submission date: 30 August 2008]

I completely agree with Caltha's review - total headshop. Though for me it is not so unbearable -- it is rich and deep with an excellent jasmine in the middle. The rich heady jasmine reminds me very much of the jasmine in Annick Goutal's Songes even though in all other respects the fragrance is completely different. This fragrance is very well done for what it is and deserves to be tested - and it is nothing like L'Air which is breathtaking. Maroc has a place, like many, in my overall fragrance wardrobe as something I would wear once in a while for a particular mood. It has a lot of atmosphere and personality. Whereas the "heashop incense" is a thinner, cheaper version of exotic places, Maroc has a rich, deep, full aspect of all the roses, spices, jasmine, patchouli, etc., that makes me imagine I've just arrived at some old, closed up spice shop in Tunisia. I mostly smell dried roses, jasmine, and dark patchouli in the manner as Bal a Versailles but without the civet and other skanky notes. The jasmine in the heart notes is particularly beautiful, and the patchouli is dark in the dry down, but very pleasant compared to the cleaned up version of patchouli finding its way into many current fragrances. I give this a thumbs up though because it is well done for all of what otherwise is imitated in cheaper hippie products. It needs to be worn with confidence, and I say for a man who thinks he can wear Mitsouko, Voleur de Roses, Nahema, etc, go for it - a judiciously applied amount would be great on a man.

Le Maroc Pour Elle opens with a sharp floral blast that reminded me of the dandelions I loved to play with as a little girl. It also evoked the memory of sticking my nose into jars of vitamins, to smell that odd but pleasant armoma they give off. (Does anyone know the word for that smell?) The slightly surreal begining yields to a luscious, ambery middle that smells like vanilla pudding. A whiff of incense keeps it from being too sweet or foody. Very good altogether, but it suffers when compared to L'Air du Desert Marocain.

Le Maroc pour Elle is basically a powdery, dusty rose with jasmine, and a small touch of cedar wood that smells a little incense-y/resinous. It’s kind of old fashioned smelling and very heady. It’s also worth mentioning that the rose in this is similar to the rose in Czech & Speake’s No. 88, but a lot more "powdery." I was quite disappointed, since Le Maroc is not really “sunny” like described on Tauer’s website. On the bright side, if you're looking for something feminine and bohemian, this might work. If you're a male, this might require some effort or the right kind of personality to pull off (it's pretty feminine).

Although it’s not bad, Le Maroc doesn’t evoke the kind of imagery or beauty as L’air du Desert Marocain – be forewarned that this isn’t the female version of it either. Creed's Jasmal is *kind of* similar to le Maroc, but I prefer Jasmal much, much more.

6/10

Loved this one. Rich, deep, spicy, creamy, sweet. I adore fragrances of this genre. Mandarin and jasmine, patchouli, and spices, all laid on a base that simply glows and ends up smelling like vanilla creme soda or sassaparilla. Luscious.

Le Maroc was not at all what I expected. Before I tried it and Reverie au jardin, I thought Tauer's signature was dryness and transparency, but those two scents are polar opposites to his other creations: dense and muddy and and musty-sweet, in the style of "natural perfumery", which I personally can't stand. I'm flummoxed to see Le Maroc compared to L'air du desert marocain or called "dry". To me, it's anything but dry - it's creamy, powdery, musty, dense and sweet.... Actually, I have one word for it: headshop. It smells exactly like that stale, musty-sweet mixed incense smell clinging to everything. Now, I love the dry, crisp, fresh, woody/spicy incense note in fine perfumes (such as Tauer's own lovely incense fragrances!), but that is something quite different from the smell of actual, unlit incense, which I don't particularly like. Le Maroc smells exactly like real, cheap hippie incense, not incense perfume. It doesn't even smell floral to me - floral incense, yes, but not fresh flowers. If I was to pick out one floral note I would say it was a creamy, warm, sweet, heavy jasmine - the rose is nowhere in sight, at least not any kind of rose I recognize from nature or perfumery. (Not that I mind, I'm not a fan of rose.) With my nose glued to my wrist, I sometimes get a whiff of something resembling sticking my nose in an actual flower, but it's like its buried under that headshop sillage. The scent is strong too - one tiny spray from the vial and I can smell it on the air all day long! It doesn't change much either, though perhaps the hint of real flower is replaced by an aldehydic powderiness by the end of the day. Not a favourite at all, but not downright unpleasant (like Reverie au jardin) so it gets a neutral thumb for me. At least I can see how someone might like this fragrance. Someone who wears a lot of tie-dye and smokes a lot of pot.

Maroc Pour Elle starts off with an unidentifiable spicy top note that seemed very mysterious. It definitely evoked thoughts of the medina I went to in Marrakech a long time ago. As the scent opened up, I then caught notes of incense, orange blossom and verbena. I am not an incense gal and so would not want to wear this myself but I certainly appreciate the artistry and effort it took to make such an unusual perfume. Andy Tauer is a very talented man!

I bought this based on Luca Turin's rave review (which likened it to a less brassy Bal a Versailles) and was surprised at how unlike BaV this is. It is an utterly distinctive dry exotic floral, but with an insistent, sweet and indefinably herbal joss-stick-like note that persists throughout the drydown. Another reviewer referred to "tasting" this fragrance, and that was how I experienced it, too; it permeates the nose and mouth. It took some getting used to, and I still have to be in a very particular, bohemian frame of mind to wear it. I prefer L'Air, and look forward to trying Orris.

Maroc pour Elle: I was a bit puzzled by it on first try, given that it had been described by Tauer and by reviewers as a rose scent, which to my nose it's not. The rose sweetens the JASMINE, citruses and cedar, leaving a very sultry, indolic impression ... nothing like what we think of when we think of rose. I get distinct cravings for this one, and when I wear it I can taste it not only on first application but for many hours. It serves a similar role for me as SL Fleurs d'Oranger, only Le Maroc is a bit more strange and exotic - and sometimes only that will do!

I think that our noses are not accustomed to such a heavy concentration of naturals as Andy uses. It takes a little getting used to, but what a beautiful education!

Like Tauer's Desert Marocain, this one is dry and has tons of cedar. Unlike Desert Marocain, this one is targeted to women and is loaded with a dry rose note. It's more of an herbally rose than a super-sweet feminine rose, and so could be worn by either sex. Like Marocain, to my nose, the drydown features amber (despite not seeing it in the notes on Lucky Scent). I find both to be unisex, though this one leans feminine.