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Vétiver Oriental



桃...だと思う:peach...may be, originally uploaded by lenny_kox.

Perhaps the title of this post should be “expectations” rather than the name of the perfume I am abouit to review. From a consumer’s point of view, expectations are perhaps one of the most dangerous things that can happen in the perfume world. Be it the posters, commercials, ad copy, reviews by fellow perfume addicts, or a simply stunning bottle – the final decision is in the juice, or as they say it “the proof is in the pudding”. However, this decision is often so wildly affected by the previous mentioned marketing maneuvers and peer pressure, that proportions are all lost once the moment of truth (i.e.: sniffing) arrives.

In my Vetiver Marathon, I was hoping to find interesting treatments of this unusual yet humble note. I started with what I thought was one of the classics – Guerlain’s Vetiver. Yes, it is citrusy. But it definitely smells like vetiver. I was hoping to find other perfumes that take vetiver to the forefront yet shed a new light, provide a refreshing angle. It seems that the more “adventurous” and “avant-garde” the vetiver I try – the further it is from the “truth” of vetiver. To my nose, anyways; so do feel free to disagree.

Vétiver Oriental starts up woody and peachy, with notes of Virginian cedarwood, Sandalwood, Atlas cedarwood and a hint of peach. This last note make it smell very much like a wooden-version of the plump, juicy oriental Asja by Fendi.

The heart develops a more powdery, dusted-sweet presence with orris and cocoa, which is quite similar to Dior Homme. But while Dior Homme offered a surprising, almost cutting-edge presence in a (recently) predictable and mostly uninspiring mainstream line, Vetiver Oriental pales like a shy speechless odour in comparison to the richness and bold statements of its peers (i.e.: Arabie, Fumerie Turque and Muscs Kublai Khan).

It is only in the late heart-notes phase that the aroma of vetiver emerges, still very subtly – it is nutty, roasted and sweet. It emerges for a very brief time, and is not particularly pronounced either, reminding me for a glimpse of grace f the roasted-sesame notes in Vetiver Tonka. I even thought for a second that I got a hint of roasted coffee (another hint for a vetiver I am biased towards, this time Jo Malone's Black Vetyver Cafe), but it puffed away and kept mumbling the same lame fake sandalwood tune, dusted with pleasant and agreeable woody sweetness like a rice-powder makeup in peach hues worn on cheeks suspended in an artificial smile.

I am sorry to say that as much as this scent is wearable and pleasant, it fails to excite me at all. I find myself disappointed over and over again by scents that have more vetiver in the name than in the formula. Whatever vetiver is left in Vétiver Oriental is so prettified and peached that it looses most of its appeal for me by the time the vetiver finally makes an appearance. It does so in the end, accentuating the sweetness of vetiver rather than its earthiness or the green freshness that the roots so brilliantly offer all at once in a harmonious contradiction that is reserved to Nature alone. In the dry down it is so similar to Dior Homme that I feel tempted to nickname it Dior Femme: a lacy garment weaved of bleached and peach-hued vetiver rootlets dusted with powdered sugar and makeup...

Top notes: Virginian Cedarwood, Peach
Heart notes: Atlas Cedarwood, Sandalwood, Orris, Cocoa
Base notes: Vetiver, Oakmoss

I’ve been longing to try Vétiver Oriental for a long time. From all I’ve read about it, it sounded like a scent that I had to try. Thanks to Lee who sent me a generous sample, I was able to taste this pudding; a peach pudding if to be precise. I hope the above review does not sound ungrateful, which I truly am. I could have never known it unless I tried it thanks to your generousity. May it serve as a reminder to us all to us all to always test before we buy, instead of relying on perfume reviews in SmellyBlog or otherwise!

If you want to read the complete opposite of my views of this fragrance, you can read this review.

A Whiff of Happiness


Fallen Frangipani, originally uploaded by mz_skade.

There is a moment of revelation when approaching a familiar scent – for a moment there are two matching vibrations between two scents – the first one being the one in the smeller’s mind and the other the actual scent that is being smelled. A whiff of a flower and the vapour emanating from a bottle met and struck a chord in my ofactory heart when I smelled Fleurs d’Oranger.

The top notes of Fleurs d’Oranger are likened to dewy orange blossoms on the tree in early morning. However, this tree grows in Serge Lutens’ garden, which means it has an unbelievably rich soil. The blossoms warm up to the glowing sun of high noon and attract humming bees to transform them into honey. They exude a sweeter scent with the help of understated tuberose and jasmine notes. By the end of the day, the rich soil reveals itself in full blast with the signature Serge Lutens amber. The blossoms have melted into sweet golden honey and turned deep orange, saffron, crimson and fuschia in the sunset. Its creator was right: it is the scent of happiness.

p.s. The above photo is yellow-hued fragipani flowers in a golden-glowing atmosphere. Although orange blossom flowers are colourless, I associate their cheerful fragranace with the colour yellow. Yellow always puts a smile on my face...I love to wear golden yellow-freesia colours with my Fleurs d'Oranger, including a yellow flower in my hair - it make every moment so much sunnier in so many ways, even in the darkest of days...

Arabie

Even the faintest whiff of Arabie sends me to places I haven’t visited since I was a little girl of 3 or 4 years old, back to the Muslim quarter in ancient Jerusalem. My parents used to take me there almost every Saturday. Arabie smells just like the Muslim market over 26 years ago - spices such as saffron, coriender, cardamon, cinnamon... Sweet confections (Rahat Loukum) and the famous refreshing scents of Tamarhindi drink that were sold by merchants carrying a copper barrel on their back (with little taps, the glasses they had were actually made of glass, so they will wait for you to finish the drink before continuing their merchant-trail). Scents of straw mats, Persian carpets, handmade mattresses, copper lamps, ropes... All somewhat dusty and desert smelling, enclosed between tall ancient stone wall, and cool underneath the arches, protected from the heat of sun and human temprament alike... The abundant tactile and sensual distractions will confuse the warrior and soothe the poliltician… Tangy green almonds with salt sold at the exit by young boys sitting on rolls of rubber tubes…As well as the famous long oval sesame-drizzled fluffy bagels with Za’atar (a herb mixture based on wild hyssop and thyme). Those bagels and the cliché olive-tree camels and a few blue glassblown vessels at the Jaffa Gate only scrape the surface of these memories...

Muscs Koublai Khan

There are two ways of getting privacy when you need it – hiding away (i.e.: “DO NOT DISTURB” sign on the door) or kicking the unwanted company out. The latter can be achieved by sufficiently spraying oneself with generous douses of Muscs Koublai Khan – the most daring and sensual musk I have ever smelled. It reeks of raw, animalistic sexual energy of the most desirable nature. While the opening may be obtrusive to some, it is surprisingly clean and warm at once to my nose, while also being intesely animalic, yet curiously does not bring to mind any specific animal… In fact, it is quite like raw ambergris chunks, straight from the beach, undiluted. But as I said – it is strong enough to send out of the room all parties that are not invited, or for that matter, not welcome to whatever will take place after the drastic step has been taken… And keep the one(s?) that will stick around long enough for the stench to dissipate and turn into the most alluring, warm and erotic musk.
Muscs Koublai Khan gradually softens but never quite changes it’s true character. It lasts for hours and hours on end, and I must admit it can be quite distracting (for yourself and others) to wear it during the day in situation that require reasonable thinking and perhaps even a bit of cognitive effort. Rather, it is a scent for times of freedom and no restraints, either out in the wild or in the privacy of your own room… It’s a scent that draws your full attention to its source, and haunts you without mercy. It is inspiring, motivating and mesmerizing. You simply won’t be able to stop thinking about it when wearing it – in a good way…While the aphrodisiac qualities are quite obvious, it is a truly liberating experience in all levels to wear Muscs Koublai Khan – it is very much reminiscent of the male body odour, and to pull this out, one needs to have quite the presence and sense of self-acceptance – also known as one of the keys to happiness.
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