Tom Ford Soleil Blanc Review: If you’re considering Tom Ford Soleil Blanc (and you’re not a nepo baby), you may be wondering: Is it worth the hype—and the price? I’ve worn this cult-favorite perfume for over three years now, and in this review I’ll break down exactly how it smells, how long it lasts, and whether it lives up to its mid-three figure(!) price tag.

👉 Want to try it now? Shop Soleil Blanc here — or keep reading to find out how it compares to other warm, beachy perfumes like Maison Margiela Beach Walk and Estée Lauder Bronze Goddess.

I have been obsessed — obsessed! — with Tom Ford’s Soleil Blanc since the first time I smelled it, which I don’t mind saying with at the Sephora at the Jersey Gardens Mall, approximately five minutes after having lunch at Chili’s. I don’t know what drew me to it, but I’ve long had an affinity for the Tom Ford fragrances that don’t rely on dumb vulgarity to make their points: Don’t ask me what it was, because I can’t remember, but when I was editing the beauty section at NYLON I got a bottle of one of his fragrances (#perks), and I loved it so much that when I dropped and broke it, I got on my hands and knees and tried to siphon what I could into a plastic bag. (This did not work.)

Maybe it was the very stylish, very Versace c. 1992 white and gold packaging? All I know is that when I first sprayed it, I was instantly transported — my initial Tom Ford Soleil Blanc review is that this perfume is even more of a madeleine than a madeleine. Most perfumes transport you to a time when you wore that perfume. This perfume transports you everywhere. Where specifically, you say? So many places:

– The community pool where I learned to swim when I was seven
– The Pacific Ocean at Tamarindo, Puerto Rico, where I once ferried a ream of typing paper to an eccentric novelist
– A vacation with an ex-boyfriend in Thailand

But see? That’s true and it’s not true, because Soleil Blanc smells not just like the beach (there are all kinds of beaches!) but like summer vacation. It smells like freedom? Happiness? Sunshine? (Also, definitely, coconut sun cream. (No SPF.) It smells like the first weekend in June after school’s out, the Outer Banks cottage with your cousins, just basically every happy warm-weather memory. Officially, Tom Ford Soleil Blanc “is an addictive solar floral amber alive with seductive refinement and refreshing decadence.” (Is there anything as unnecessarily over the top as how a beauty company describes its fragrances?? Could they just stop? )  There are notes, of bergamot, pink pepper, and benzoin.

Those are the facts. I think the better questions, though, are philosophical: Can we just live at the beach? Would our lives be happier if we did? Would it eventually get so boring that we’d long for the roster of pine-centric Christmas candles from the White Barn?

I have a complaint that suggests an answer to those questions. When I tried this one at Sephora, I remember the disappointment of thinking it had evaporated faster than I wanted to: I have a clear image of getting to my car in the mall parking lot and thinking that it hadn’t even stuck around that long. Au contraire, after a month’s-worth of wearing it at home: If anything, it’s too durable, and after a while — approximately 45 minutes — I just don’t want to smell it anymore; there’s some strange, powder-y level that gives me a headache. I think there ultimately is a point when you can have too much of a good thing: Soleil Blanc, the beach, sunshine, all of it. But in smaller doses, they’re all perfection.

TL;DR: Is Soleil Blanc worth it?

I’ve had my same bottle for three years now — so I’ve paid about $12 a month for it, though I still have quite a bit left, so that’ll come down a little in the months to come. That’s not nothing. But I do think it was money well spent.