Vétiver Extraordinaire by Editions de Parfums Frederic Malle, 2002

Extraordinary. Earthy. A vetiver heavyweight. Highest proportion of vetiver essential oil. I have no idea about the latter but, for me, this is none of the first three. It's is like no other vetiver I've smelled, and I really struggle to find any clear vetiver statement anywhere apart from fleetingly around five minutes after application. If anything, for me, it's a rather transparent skin scent which, strangely, puts me in mind of Isabelle Doyen's L'Antimatiere; admittedly a strange comparison for something which gets the sort of press VE does. The first burst is a quite sharp but hesperidic affair towards the mandarin/bergamot/bigarade end of the citrus spectrum. The citrus is pronounced but quite colourless, if that makes sense - less an orange tinge, more a heat shimmer. This is soon replaced by pencil shavings - that cedar and charcoal edge which is the most distinctive note in the whole, fairly indistinct, evolution. This is where the vetiver sits, but it rapidly melds into an ambery skin scent which sits very close to the skin but becomes more and more the main show. Strangely I still pick up a vague hint of orange oil of some kind here. At first I'd thought longevity was poor, but this was because I was looking for the wrong thing. Actually the amber-musk, while pretty low profile, lasts most of the day and could, if the wearer were so inclined, work as quite a distinctive "signature" - at close quarters. For me, none of these various accords seem to me to really work together. It's interesting, intriguing even, but not something I would get attached to. However, while it doesn't suit me, I'd say to people rejecting it on first sniff, it really needs the whole course of a wearing and multiple wearing evaluate. I certainly see this differently than I did when I first tried it.

Vetiver Extraordinare is in the range of my favourite Vetivers on the side of the salty and windy Sel de Vetiver The Different Company, of the untamed and earthy Etro's Vetiver, the post industrial and dark Encre Noir, the exotic Vetiver Guerlain, the rooty-incensey Route du Vetiver and others as Terre d'Hermes (which with V.E shares many notes as orange, vetiver, pepper, cedar, woods and others) and Creed with its millesime' touch. I share my opinion with others of many reviewers, this fragrance starts raw and angular with a strong earthy presence of Vetiver and tart bergamot but with time starts to evolve towards something more fluidy that reminds slightly that sort of lemony and green tea effect i find in Sel de Vetiver and Terre d'Hermes. As well as the last this one, without losing the  earthy feel, evolves towards something more watery, lemony, incensey and grassy. I suppose that there are many notes in composition that support the vetiver exalting some of its upmentioned qualities, i mean cedar, moss, may be galbanum  or tea, citrus for sure and spices. A note of myrrh is listed and i suppose that, in its link with musk, moss and amber, it's the main responsible of the final process of smoothing of a smell that anyway holds on to be bold, rooty, slightly pungent and woodsy-incensey with nuances of orange-lemon, sweet spices, smoke, leather and mild woods. The outcome is masculine and complex as the smell of an old and leathery english bookcase room impregnated of smoke, mould, woods and smells of time.

This is one of those cases where I'm always a little disappointed that I can't get on board with the rest of what seems to be a rather large contigent of Vetiver Extraordinaire admirers. It might be such fun to be a part of that crowd I keep thinking. The late night soirees. The laughter. Ohhh the raucous laughter. The contentment. But I can't. I'm resigned to be always looking in through the party train window my nose pressed up against the glass thinking, "Why do I have to dislike this stuff so much?" Smells kind of nice at first. Crisp. A little smoky. Something green. An almost unoffending aquatic quality. This to me is NOT some big earthy trip to Rootdom. Not unpleasent. But as it progresses (or doesn't) it seems to lose what little smokiness it started with and leaves behind something that to me ends up smelling like nothing so much as the smell of a dental office. There's that mild rubbery smell overlaid with perfume. Like the plaster an orthodontist uses to make an impression or some adhesive. The smell of dental materials made to be more pleasent smelling with the addition of fragrance. Not unpleasent. But this is one I'm always happier with when it's gone. Kind of like leaving the dental office.