
By Mark
Vetiver (the plant) is a kind of grass that originated in India but is also cultivated in Haiti, Java, China and Brazil, among other places. It has long been used in perfumery, due partly to its excellent fixative qualities. Vetiver is used in the bases of countless perfumes. There have also been a number of fragrances built around vetiver as the dominant accord. Of these, Guerlain's Vetiver has been widely considered a gold standard since its introduction in 1959.
The first time I wore Vetiver, I was disappointed; after the initial citrus blast, it quickly turned soapy, and not long after that I could barely detect it at all. I tried several other vetiver-themed fragrances from different houses, all with the same result; it seemed that vetiver as a dominant note simply disappeared on my skin. Due to some kind of stubbornness, I kept trying it periodically, and one day, I was rewarded; it "clicked" and I was able to appreciate what the fuss is about.
Vetiver still starts out as citrus, but shortly after that, what I used to perceive as soap now presents as the refreshing sweet/sour smell of vetiver grass. This is not like sweet and sour pork, but more like lemon grass (which is related to vetiver the plant.) This heart accord persists for quite some time, and in the drydown, darkens and sweetens a bit as fresh tobacco and tonka bean join in the coda.
Vetiver is believed to have been reformulated a few times since its introduction, growing gradually brighter and more citrusy in the top notes, and less dark and tobacco-laden in the drydown. What is unusual is that some aficionados prefer the newer version. Guerlain, typically of all perfume houses, insists no reformulation has taken place.
Reformulation questions aside, I find the current version to be simultaneously classical and modern, and equally suitable for formal and casual occasions. It is as comfortable as an old pair of jeans, and just as easy to reach for.
The first time I wore Vetiver, I was disappointed; after the initial citrus blast, it quickly turned soapy, and not long after that I could barely detect it at all. I tried several other vetiver-themed fragrances from different houses, all with the same result; it seemed that vetiver as a dominant note simply disappeared on my skin. Due to some kind of stubbornness, I kept trying it periodically, and one day, I was rewarded; it "clicked" and I was able to appreciate what the fuss is about.
Vetiver still starts out as citrus, but shortly after that, what I used to perceive as soap now presents as the refreshing sweet/sour smell of vetiver grass. This is not like sweet and sour pork, but more like lemon grass (which is related to vetiver the plant.) This heart accord persists for quite some time, and in the drydown, darkens and sweetens a bit as fresh tobacco and tonka bean join in the coda.
Vetiver is believed to have been reformulated a few times since its introduction, growing gradually brighter and more citrusy in the top notes, and less dark and tobacco-laden in the drydown. What is unusual is that some aficionados prefer the newer version. Guerlain, typically of all perfume houses, insists no reformulation has taken place.
Reformulation questions aside, I find the current version to be simultaneously classical and modern, and equally suitable for formal and casual occasions. It is as comfortable as an old pair of jeans, and just as easy to reach for.
Perfumer: Jean-Paul Guerlain
Year: 1959
Notes: orange, bergamot, lemon; pepper, nutmeg; vetiver, tobacco, tonka bean.
It's a beautiful vetiver. I noticed that a sizeable number of reviewers on other fragrance sites complain about it having a bug-repellent opening. I can see their point, but only if one has the patience of a fruit fly. After the first five seconds, what starts out smelling a little synthetic opens up into a very nice citrus and vetiver scent. I really like it!
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