Atifa Noir
Al Haramain

Atifa Noir is as unbearable as Black Orchid, the scent after which it is clearly modeled. Gooped together as a unholy alliance of chocolate, flowers, and fruit, it only lacks the sickly faux cucumber note of Black Orchid to make the horror complete.

Atifa Noir clearly has some top notch materials in its arsenal. I just wish the perfumers had thought to bring them out to play. The uneasy mix of chocolate, fruit, vanilla, and flowers is a kitchen sink of stuff that doesn’t really go together, topped off with the ear-ringing chemical miasma of Cilit Bang.

The whole thing is doused in black pepper, giving it the butch ‘man’s crotch’ note so infamous in Black Orchid. For me personally, Atifa Noir is on the same level as the woeful stuff that Tesori d’Oriente puts out, which, in turn, is only step away from functional cleaning products. But at least Tesori d’Oriente is honestly priced at five dollars for a fifty milliliter bottle. Atifa Noir costs over $130 for twenty-four milliliters.

Complexity to rejoice in, Atifa Noir is a special occasion perfume that promises worlds as yet undiscovered. Anchored around a chord that is equal parts soil tincture and damp wood, a swirl of fruity notes (golden orangey tones rather than any specific fruit) entices the nose. The rose and black pepper of the mid-section are surely there but fused together into one entity and then further blended into the seductive earth and musty wood accord. Hints of dark chocolate and dry vanilla round it off.
Wearing Atifa Noir is like wearing heavily embroidered clothing – with movement different parts of the pattern are revealed, yet the overall effect is luxurious and hard-won.