Les Exclusifs de Chanel Sycomore

Jacques Polge's Sycomore is an attempt to respond, with contemporary architectural precision, to the name and atmospheric trace Ernest Beaux left behind in 1930. With the 2016 transition to Eau de Parfum concentration, however, this crystalline EDT has essentially vanished from circulation. On contact with skin, what rises is a silver-needle sharpness of cypress and juniper. Beneath it, the vetiver root begins to pulse—quietly, but with steady authority. The smell of a root freshly pulled from the earth and cut open, where green sap, damp soil, and faint smoke meet. This is not the concept of vetiver. What appears here is raw matter, presented with a quiet clarity, before any conceptual sublimation. The grounds for such direct presentation lie in the intersection of two aesthetics that have always coexisted within Chanel. One is the abstractionist tradition of Beaux and early Polge—the aldehydic halo of N°5, the sandalwood plane of Bois des Îles. These operations strip materials of their concrete character and elevate them into idea. The other is the lineage of Henri Robert (1954–1978): the directness of galbanum and lily of the valley in Cristalle (1974), the lucid classical chypre of Pour Monsieur (1955). Here materials speak as themselves, with dignity. Sycomore EDT is a dialectical synthesis of these opposed traditions. It inherits Beaux's material list (vetiver, violet, tobacco, aldehydes) while departing from his abstractionist method, and it connects to Robert's commitment to materials as themselves while introducing an architectural rigor that Robert's own works never possessed—a triple operation: departure from Beaux, connection to Robert, transcendence of both. The way vetiver stands upright in the opening—not veiled in mist but supported by structural scaffolding (cypress, juniper)—is the concrete embodiment of this third way. The 1930 formula is poorly attested, and our characterization of "the Beaux method" depends on Chanel's limited internal disclosures; I flag this as speculation. What enables this synthesis is the solution to a problem intrinsic to vetiver as raw material. Vetiver oil contains components of widely differing volatility—light terpenes and trace citrus-like compounds on one side, the khusimol backbone and α/β-vetivone side chains on the other—and the "audible" molecules change with time. Once the light volatiles disperse, a vetiver-soliflore left to itself collapses to its heavy residues alone; the perfume mutates into something else. Most vetiver-centric perfumes fall into "magnificent top, impoverished drydown" or its inverse precisely for this reason. In Sycomore EDT, each volatility tier is engineered to anticipate or inherit a different facet of vetiver. The coniferous sharpness of the top anticipates vetiver's anisic coolness; the heart presents the khusimol skeleton and α/β-vetivone side chains of vetiver proper; the synthetic sandalwood base—given the period and price point, plausibly a Polysantol- or Javanol-type blend—inherits the dry woody residue from khusimol. One hour in, two hours in, the wearer continues to hear variations on the same theme. Edmond Roudnitska (1905–1996, perfumer of many Dior compositions) theorized perfumery as forme olfactive—olfactory form—and took as his ideal a composition that preserves its theme along the time axis. Sycomore EDT is one of the more successful contemporary realizations of that ideal. And this linearity is a state of physical chemistry achievable only at EDT concentration. At EDP concentration, diffusion in solvent slows, the tiers superimpose along the time axis, and the linear architecture collapses into an undifferentiated "luxurious forest." Masterpiece status, in this case, depends on a specific concentration range. Complementing this temporal control is an inversion of the aldehyde function. In Chanel's tradition, aldehydes have served as veil: a sheath that covers the rawness of floral material and abstracts it. In Sycomore, the aldehyde functions as blade. Natural vetiver oil carries—depending on extraction conditions—a faint glandular suggestion: thin wool, the oil of human skin (this is thought to derive from trace sulfur compounds, though their presence in the specific lot used in Sycomore cannot be confirmed without disclosed formula). In Encre Noire (Lalique, Lorson) this haze is covered by Iso E Super; in Vétiver Extraordinaire (Malle, Ropion) it is swaddled in cashmeran and a woody-musk envelope. In Sycomore, it is simply gone—not covered, but surgically excised from the outset. The vetiver outline is preserved entirely intact while the human warmth and the animalic facet alone are selectively removed. A tool once deployed in the service of abstraction is here turned to purification. The most elegant of revolts. Parallel to this purification runs another operation: smoke as constructive inscription. One of Sycomore's central impressions is "dry smoke"—yet if the vetiver used is indeed Haitian (a claim by The Perfume Shrine and other secondary sources), the raw material itself is markedly less smoky than Javanese vetiver. The smoke at Sycomore's center has not been extracted from vetiver. It has been read into vetiver—by cypress terpenes, juniper pinenes, and very likely a trace guaiacol-class adjunct. A property the material did not possess is brought into being by structure. Technically, this is trompe-l'œil; critically, it is the sister theorem to the aldehyde inversion. Subtraction is not mere deletion—it is also the carving of contours the material never had. What appears beyond the pared warmth and the incised smoke is the absence of olfactory-experiential narrative. Not the absence of narrative. Chanel does provide Sycomore with a mythology—Auvergne’s volcanic landscapes, Mademoiselle Chanel’s childhood memories, autumn woods suspended outside of time. Yet this narrative remains largely external to the perfume itself. The fragrance is described mainly through texture and atmosphere: deep, smoky, earthy, warm. It does not dramatize its story from within. Compare this with other vetiver-centered compositions. Encre Noire constructs its ink fantasy internally: the name, the inkwell bottle derived from René Lalique's 1913 Biches design, and the fragrance materials themselves collaborate to perform "inkiness" as an olfactory effect. Vétiver Extraordinaire characterizes vetiver from within the accord itself—cold, metallic, mineral, almost pebble-like. Vétiver Tonka frames its warmth and softness directly through the texture of the perfume, while the Hermessence line as a whole is articulated olfactorily as "haiku-like" compositions. Timbuktu is perhaps the clearest example: the references to Wusulan ritual, Malian smoke ceremonies, cypriol, incense, and dryness are not decorative framing devices surrounding the work, but are structurally embedded into the perfume's sensory logic. In each of these cases, narrative is enacted through the vetiver itself rather than merely attached to it externally. Sycomore operates differently. The fragrance does not intrinsically encode Auvergne in the way Encre Noire encodes ink or Timbuktu encodes ritual smoke. Three hours into wear, what remains is less a place than a material presence: vetiver itself, suspended within the dry structural scaffolding already described. Forest, ash, and campfire imagery certainly arise in criticism and wearer testimony, but this does not contradict the point. If anything, it clarifies it. Because the fragrance only weakly scripts its own experiential narrative, it leaves unusually large interpretive space for projection. The wearer's imagination is permitted to move freely, while Chanel's official mythology hovers above the composition rather than being fully metabolized into it. The operation is structurally analogous to the work of Constantin Brâncuși. Brâncuși's Bird series and Endless Column preserve the recognizability of their objects while stripping away representational specificity—anatomical detail, expression, posture, anecdote. At the same time, Brâncuși himself surrounded the works with extensive philosophical, autobiographical, and Romanian-mystical discourse. There was never an absence of narrative around the sculptures. Yet the sculptures themselves do not perform those narratives internally. The object is presented prior to its story. Sycomore approaches vetiver in much the same way: vetiver is unmistakably present as vetiver, while the narrative attached to it remains largely a function of framing, interpretation, and projection rather than of the perfume's internal dramatic structure. Here it is worth recalling Luca Turin's review in Perfumes: The A-Z Guide, which called Sycomore a "magisterial gloss" on Duchaufour's Timbuktu and awarded it five stars. His observation about the anisic, cool treatment of smoky wood is accurate; but the hallucinatory frankincense, inflected by karo karoundé, that lies at the center of Timbuktu is not what Sycomore carries forward. Sycomore's smoke is drier, more architectural, more impersonal. Turin's comparison gestures at syntax, not at theme. The work also admits another reading: as Chanel's structural counter-statement against the niche boom of the 2000s—the period in which perfume fell into the loquacity of "concept." In the end, Sycomore EDT's greatest achievement lay in its understanding that subtraction can possess greater expressive force than accumulation. What Jacques Polge constructed here was not a narrative of vetiver, nor even an idealized image of it, but a precise architecture through which the material could remain present without rhetorical excess. The 2016 transition to Eau de Parfum altered that equilibrium. As diffusion slowed and the volatility tiers began to overlap, the linear structure softened into a richer, denser atmosphere; beautiful in its own right, but no longer governed by the same crystalline discipline of time. The original EDT now survives mostly as scattered bottles, secondary memory, and the critical language built around it. Yet perhaps this is fitting for a work so fundamentally concerned with absence, contour, and restraint. To seek out Sycomore EDT today is less an act of nostalgia than an attempt to encounter a rare achievement in modern perfumery: a composition in which structure itself became the source of emotion, and in which silence was allowed to remain silence. 10/10

This is a comfort scent for me. It makes me feel calm, warm and comforted. On my skin it is fairly quiet. Doesn't project much, especially after the first hour or so, but it does linger most of the day. As others have noted, the vetiver is front and center from beginning to end. To my nose this vetiver is dry and smokey, almost incense-like. It brings to mind smoldering bundles of dried vetiver grass on parched earth, smoke rising into the air. But this smoldering vetiver is softened with the other notes that are blended such that I can't really make them out individually (but I'm also new to fragrances so my nose is partly to blame). But this softness makes the overall scent more plush and pulls the fragrance into unisex territory. To me it seems better suited to spring and fall than the more extreme seasons, but I think it could be worn all year (with some care in summer). In fact, I live on the equator, so it is always summer here, and I wear it without any issues. EDIT: The more that I live with the fragrance, the more I love it and the more I want to smell it. It's also now clear to me that the cushion of plush sweetness that surrounds the smoldering vetiver (and which actually outlasts the vetiver in the deep dry-down) comes largely from a sweet, creamy sandalwood. Likewise, I've also realized that much of the smoldering quality of the vetiver comes from a tobacco note. Previously I had been unable to discern any tobacco, but now I realize that it is seamlessly grafted onto the "back end" of the vetiver, making it hard to detect as a distinct note but contributing to the rich smokiness of the vetiver base. Finally, I have also noticed that if I wear clothing over the place I've applied the scent, it changes the character of the aroma. Since I work in a casual environment in the tropics, I usually wear short-sleeve shirts. However, one day when working in a frigid air-conditioned room, I was wearing a sweatshirt, and I kept getting whiffs of a bright, soapy scent. It took me some time to realize that it was actually the Sycomore. It was as if the thick sweatshirt was filtering out the heavier molecules of the base and only letting the lighter, shimmering ones through.

First things first, to you people that have only tried Sycomore once and didn't like it; please if you can, try it again! I got hold of a mini splash bottle a while ago and to begin with, all I could smell was stale cigarette smoke/ashtray.. Not exactly what I want to smell like! It smelled precisely like some dude coming in from a smoke break outside, plus a faint trace of his generic cologne. I disliked it immensley and felt a sigh of relief, money saved! However.. it grew on me LIKE CRAZY and only a couple of weeks (and trials) later, I found myself drawn to the dusty, dry warmth of Sycomre like a moth to a lightbulb and like being under a spell, I was completely unable to stop smelling it. Now I'm head over heels in love with this masterpiece, and consider it one of my absolute favorites from the Les Exclusifs. I haven't smelled Encre Noire which so many compare Sycomre with, but I'm sure that's a great one too. I mean, if it's related to Sycomore how can it not be? Sycomore smells dusty and peppery like dried hay in an old, abandoned barn, warm like freshly made cinnamon buns (without the sugar) and aromatic and "outdoorsy" like tree bark and smoky bonfires. To me Sycomore manages to smell otherworldly and natural at the same time, which is amazing! It's like a trip to some ancient forest, far from civilization. All is nice and relaxing except the temperature is a bit too high, the sky is overcast with dark storm clouds and everything seems just a bit too quiet. Wait.. did I just see something in between those old, mossy pine trees over there? A witch perhaps? The words that first come to my mind smelling Sycomore, are safe and comforting, however unsettling. It literally makes me feel like I'm being embraced by a huge hunky beast of a man, LOL! He might look threathening with his thick beard, huge arms and all that, but on the inside he is gentle as a lamb... or is he? That dark, unsettling streak never leaves the picture completely. It's always there, lurking somewhere in the background. As far as the Les Exclusifs go, Sycomore is one of the longest lasting ones and the sillage is moderate to heavy. A winner!

Chanel Sycomore, for me, is point in case that our tastes are ever evolving. I first smelt Sycomore three years ago when I was at a Chanel boutique, but instead settled on No 22. If I relived that exact experience tomorrow, the outcome would be very different. I can no longer tolerate No 22 for myself and would pick Sycomore without any second thought. A few months ago I realised that vetiver is a smell I yearn for. I love its earthiness, greenness, and smoky facets. I came to this conclusion from burning pure vetiver oil in my room, the smoky freshness is absolutely sublime to me. Sycomore enhances the most beautiful aspects of the pure vetiver extract, but adds a particular Chanel chicness to make it into an utterly wearable work of art. Longevity is great for an EDT, I do a few replenishments throughout the day but I would do that with most EDT’s. I really enjoy it sprayed on clothes (particularly wool & cashmere). Vetiver is a traditionally masculine note, but I think Chanel Sycomore would be devastatingly chic worn by a woman. Sycomore is intriguing, chic, wearable, and addictive. Sycomore, to me, is not a skin scent nor is it a perfume that wears its owner. I do, however, find it an extremely assertive fragrance and you do need to really love and appreciate Sycomore in order to carry it off. I suppose when I had my first Chanel visit and settled on No22 I wasn’t quite ready for the world of Sycomore... Sycomore demands a strong sense of self from its wearer. Although I would wear it both day and night, I would never dream of wearing it in my ‘kick around’ clothes. It requires its wearer to have an assured presence to match the fragrance lingering around them. Sycomore is both modern and old-world to me, a juxtaposition I cannot verbalise but just a feeling it gives me when I wear it. I’m so happy I discovered Sycomore, its a true beauty. PS, I highly recommend pure vetiver oil used in an oil diffuser for those of you that cannot get enough of Sycomore.

Thank you, Chanel, for Sycomore. As someone who likes earthy, woody frags it's a gamble to find ones that aren't overly masculine. Initially, Sycomore is quite masculine, then veers more feminine. The opening has an appealing smokiness. I got some pepper, too, which fades quickly, but the smokiness persists. From there it morphs into a clever blend of cypress and juniper that creates a gorgeous dry woodiness. And oh, that vetiver! Lovely with the sandalwood. Mouchette said it well - "outdoor chic in a bottle." If smoke + wood + earth sounds masculine, it is. At first, I thought there were no softening florals, nothing to counter the masculinity, but happily wearable. When I realized I was wrong, I had to come back and edit my review. The vetiver came out to steal the show from the cypress/juniper, coupled with a wistful floral note. (Violet?) The earlier-century green Chanels are very manicured, like a well-kept 19th century mansion. There's nothing so posh or garden-y here. This is a dry wood where the crackling leaves mingle with the scents of the earth and the fragrant trees. Chanel tends not to work for me, never mind the price tag. I'm also wary of projecting anything that screams "high-end brand" as distinctively as some Chanels. Love experiencing them, would never wear them. Fortunately this is wonderfully complex and natural fragrance without having that quality. Still VERY sophisticated, though. Edit: Well, I've certainly learned my lesson about getting excited and writing a review before a scent goes through its whole progression. For every turn in the tale I came back to rewrite - bringing the grand total to an embarrassing eight edits. Sycomore has some beautiful surprises.

The opening is a fresh coniferous accord. Smoky tobacco and java vetiver, cypress and juniper bites right away. As it dries down, the vetiver, tobacco and cypress seem to coalesce, giving a very cool smoked vetiver vibe. I dint get much of the pink pepper though there is a spicy note in the dry down, but i dont sense any floral from the pink pepper. I do not get any powdery violet and only a subtle sandalwood smell after a few hours. Its very much a linear spicy smoky vetiver, and that is not bad at all! The vetiver is smoky where as Guerlain Vetiver is soapy green and Nishane Sultan Vetiver is more nutty green. I feel the three really encapsulate all the facets of Vetiver and its variants (Bourbon, Javanese, Hatian). If you are a massive Vetiver fan, owning all three would not feel redundant. Of the three, Sycomore's vetiver is masked slightly by the spicy accords and not as "loud" as in Guerlain or Nishane Sultan Vetiver. Its prominent, but not in your face like Nishane or central focus like Guerlain. It reminds me of a more vetiver centered, tobacco/spice muted Feuilles de Tabac by Miller Harris. Its a very aromatic "cool" smoky vetiver. I find this would be a wonderful fall and spring perfume. Absolute gem for the fall. I feel its a bit too dry and smoky for summer. Winter I feel works well as well if your into a cool vibe in the coldest months. Ita strong but not overwhelming. I feel the spice makes it lean very masculine and men into perfume will definitely ask what it is. Women will enjoy this on their man for sure. Its nice, its classy.

On my skin: Top + Middle + Base: Vetiver 70% Pepper like scent 15% Creamy-like scent 10%, Tobacco-smokey like scent 10% Sweet like scent (a little touch of flower) 5% All the way, 24 hours. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful scent. Creed, and other niche fragrance like Bond No. 9 or Amourage, you have a contestant. Is this for women? I don't know, but for sure, I LOVE IT ON ME. The first spray on my skin, I get nothing, quite disappointing, but after like 5 minutes, the scent pops up. And it stays like this forever!!!! For work? YES For dates? YES For casual meet-ups? YES To bad, this scent is so classy, that it cannot be in the clubs. No freaking way. I won't use this now, I am for sure to young for this. Maybe when I hit 29 onwards, I will buy this. It's kind of, 'powerful' scent. I can see a manager, or some big shot for a corporate figure pulling this off. Ladies think this is a weird scent, to grassy to them. Most of the guys say 'dam its so good, that when I am smoking, this one cuts my smoke for sure'. And yes it did. OMG, omg, omg, omg. Awesome longevity as I mentioned. 100% attention grabber. The country I am in has no 4 seasons, so it is either hot or cold weather. This works very well on both. My rating (base on 5 stars) Scent: 5 (Vetiver has never smelled so good). Sillage: 5 (OMG). Time length: 5 (24 hours, shit). Occasion: 4 (all rounder jack of trades, but not for clubs). Overall base on mathematics: 4.75/5 Throw away your all your vetiver stuff. This is a winner I maybe should try on Vetiver by Christian Dior =p

I fell very deeply in love with this scent upon first sniff; it's nothing like anything I've ever smelt before. For me, this is a very evocative and mysterious fragrance. It's incredibly sensual, like the beautiful and smoldering Lauren Bacall. Effortlessly sexy, like the sharply tailored suit caressing her willowy figure. Passionate, like her soul that makes it's presence felt through her steely and shimmering eyes. I could even imagine Lauren Bacall wearing this. Sycomore begins with a brief puff of smoke. Vetiver dominates, and it's very aromatic and light, with an earthy dryness, that develops into something a little more spicy and creamy with some smokiness in the background. It's always smooth and well-blended, with that signature sophistication and elegance associated with Chanel. The scent is mainly smoky woods on me, but that's okay; I'm wondering if I'll be able to unscramble some more notes during the warmer months. This perfume does venture a little too much into the masculine spectrum for me, which means that I can't really see myself wearing this regularly; although sometimes, nothing but this seems to do. A man could definitely appreciate Sycomore and I wouldn't hesitate at all to call this unisex. Soft sillage (this would probably improve when it's warmer); lasts for about 7-8 hours. Please note: I am still yet to smell Encre Noire.

Sycomore is a beautiful, vetiver-forward offering from Chanel’s Les Exclusifs collection. I received a sample and, even before trying the rest of the line, I knew this would be a serious contender for a signature scent. After wearing it, I visited the Chanel fragrance boutique near my home and purchased a bottle without hesitation. The note breakdown on Fragrantica feels accurate, but rather than focusing on individual notes, I’d rather describe how this fragrance makes me feel. Sycomore evokes the image of an ancient library — a quiet place where knowledge has been gathered and preserved over centuries. It feels thoughtful, composed, and inward-facing. This is something I would choose to wear in moments where I need to exercise authority or demonstrate expertise, but never in an aggressive way. With just one spray, it stays with me throughout the day. Not loudly, but consistently — almost like a steady companion at my side. There’s a sense of reassurance to it, as if it’s offering subtle support rather than demanding attention. Although I’m still early in my fragrance journey, Sycomore already feels like an essential piece in my collection. For me, it’s firmly S-tier. I genuinely dread the day this bottle runs empty — not only because it’s expensive, but because it has quickly become something I associate with calm confidence and inner resolve.

Chanel is perhaps one of the fistful of brands that still throws big money in perfumes. There is always room for a vetiver fragrance but for a brand that is marketing its high-end line to women composing and delivering a vetiver was surely their boldest and most ingenious act. Wearing Sycomore causes ones heart to flutter. Like the first time you fall in love where you feel a gap, a short of emptiness, underneath your chest and your surroundings become more emotionally vivid. Sycomore is foremost an object of beauty; a perfume that sets into motion the senses and not the logical reasoning. Technically, it is a smoky vetiver, refined to the bone and done in the grandest manner but actually it is more of an experience, a festivity about things that you can sense/smell and not say about. This is a fragrance that doesn’t need to be broken down or be discussed in parts. It is a sum of ordinary parts, parts used before in many fragrances but here fit so ideally, reminding us that uniqueness is hidden everywhere and not only in the exotic. For a vetiver composition, a traditionally solemn and unbending note, this experience was to me one of the greatest surprises of my perfume journey. Sycomore is a deep and mysterious perfume which exudes charisma and manages to deliver a profound emotional impact, lifting the senses as no other. MASTERPIECE

my favorite of the exclusive line next to coromandel. Its been said so many times but yes it can be compared to encre noire but dont get it twisted. They're both telling a different story. I don't wanna take away from the magic they both posses by saying that one is better than the other. neither lack in quality, althou what you are getting in sycamore what encre noire doesnt is the iconic use of chanel aldhydes. like the best way i can describe is that encre noire is like a dense, dark difficult to see in forest. and sycamore is like that exact same forest but with light shining thru the tree branches. the one is looking up and the other is looking down. however sycamore has a few more tricks up it's sleeve. it has a slight velvety / tabacco giving a smooth classy quality in the dry down. The opening is a lot brighter n fresher with pink pepper and the junipers adds a lot more green fresh aromatic tones in a way that makes the forest ''more visible'' as mentioned above. sycamore is elven while encre noire is vamperic i gave encre noire extreme a theme song so i will also give sycomore one from the same anime Berserk (1997): Susumu Hirasawa - Earth beautiful, both are beautiful creations wood elf/10

I have a small sample of Sycomore that allowed for 2 wearings; I feel that wasn't enough to really get to know it. So I want a larger quantity as soon as possible, because after those two wearings I am sure that I love this scent. It seems to be intriguingly complex and elegantly simple at the same time: it's all wood, but there's so much going on in all that woodiness. I feel like I smell like furniture polish, but in a sophisticated way. It seems impossible, but it's true! I love the vetiver in this, it's very strong while remaining perfectly unisex. In fact, I don't really understand why this is "for women"; to me it seems as unisex as they come. That's impressive, by the way, and makes me very happy, because I love the smell of vetiver but most strong vetiver fragrances tend to be too masculine for my taste. The supporting notes are also great: I get both dry woods and greener, moister forest smells. Altogether they make for a scent that is mysterious and full of hidden depths, but at the same time easy to wear. Great for all seasons, I think. Uplifting and quite powerful in a subtle way; it doesn't radiate but the whiffs I catch of it throughout the day always instantly improve my mood.

I got a little story to tell with this review. When I started out hanging around Fragrantica and buying decant and samples I had a secret perfume recipe that made the best vetiver scent: 2 parts of Chloe Capucine and 1 part of Hermes Vetiver Tonka into a decant. The end result was a smoky, green, slightly sweet and nutty vetiver concoction that I could never get tired of. ... that is, until I ran into Sycomore. Once the tobacco note settles down I am left with the most gorgeous vetiver with a hint of freshness from juniper and hues of soft spices and wood. The cypress and sandalwood are balanced perfectly, and there's even the slightest hint of powder lingering in the base. It is just enough to keep the composition not overly masculine. It evokes the exact same feeling I got from my secret recipe; I am not a perfume genius like I thought, after all. I have a huge 6.8 oz bottle but I'll be backing this one up like crazy. The new EDP is no where near the original EDT. EDP smells way too synthetic (lack of tobacco note and nutty base) and does not last nearly half as much as EDT. Ah, why do I have to love you so much Sycomore?

I'm really not sure I'd ever want to smell like anything other than this ever again. What am I supposed to do with my drawers full of other scents that have just instantly faded into black & white? This is love. A perfect fragrance dominated by an exquisite vetiver note, and supported by an all star cast of sandalwood, pepper, juniper & cypress. There's some violet peeking through also, but this thing is more than just the sum of its parts. All the various notes are so well synchronized as to create the illusion of a single virtuoso dancer. This is designated as a feminine scent, but I'd suggest completely ignoring that, this easily swings both ways... I've had the pleasure of keeping company with a variety of amazing vetivers, thinking I had seen the best of the best from a variety of niche houses. I'd actually resisted the Chanel variety, thinking that surely the more obscure and hip my latest example was, the better it had to be. Oh how wrong I was! A masterpiece in my book and an absolute must for not only vetiver lovers, but anyone at all who is interested in the idea of an olfactory epiphany. 10/10

Gorgeous scent I mean letterly gorgeous! Nature in a bottle and not so linear as Dior Vetiver for example which is very close in the drydown of this. It’s nothing like encre noir if you really use your nose and enjoy scents so deeply. It’s rounded very well. The opening could remind you of that dark harshness of encre noire and encre noire extreme, but it’s not so harsh that it offends you... you just get more and more curious.. the vetiver blast in the opening with some spices is amazing.. it’s dark and makes you excited, and slowly the tobacco comes out and plays with the notes.. it’s balancing the scent and it becomes a soft, but sweet peppery vetiver, but so well blended you just smell pure pure masterwork here! I mean close your eyes walk outside in the nature and no review is needed. Thanks for this masterpiece Chanel! Longevity is beastmode 12+ hours, but projection is very weak on me like all vetivers except for sultan vetiver from Nishane thats a nuclear bomb of vetiver. Anyways I like it and outside I can smell it better and don’t mind that point.. it’s about the smell and that’s gorgeous

My favorite Chanel perfume of all time. Earthy, dark, warm, woody, and a tinge of spice to add some flair. As expected from the Chanel DNA, the airiness of this perfume is what makes it stand out from other vetiver centric perfumes I have tried. Imagine being embraced by the earth itself, on the cooling floor of a deciduous forest. It's fall, the leaves are turning brown. You find solace in solitude that only nature can provide. This perfume pulls on my heartstrings for reasons I can't pinpoint. As an introvert, this perfume speaks to me. As weird as it sounds, it is my escape from the chaos of city life, in a bottle. A few sprays in a quiet room and I'm instantly transported to a haven, a refuge from all the noise and all the attention demanding aspects of my day. It brings me peace for a short blissful moment. I love everything about this scent except for it's ridiculous price. And yet once again I fear I may still purchase a bottle one day. This is Chanel through and through, and I love it for that. A masterpiece for the story it tells, in the way only perfumes can tell.

Time for my favorite game, a format comparison. On my left arm is a new Sycomore EdP and on my right is the original Les Exclusifs EdT release. I can keep this very simple: these are very nearly two different perfumes. The EdT is one of the driest and woodiest vetivers I’ve ever smelled. The similarities to Encre Noir are significant. In true Les Exclusifs EdT style, it’s full of air and space. The very woody vetiver stretches from the top to the base of the perfume, and in the final skin scent it pairs beautifully with sandalwood and purple violets. The EdP uses the same woody vetiver but seems to use less of it. It’s decidedly floral, heavily leaning on the aldehydes and violet flower note in the top and heart. The final skin scent is very similar to the EdT but softer, more floral, a bit sweeter and wetter. The EdT is a very strident, stately, and stiff character to the EdP’s very pleasant, relaxed and easy beauty. These two formats aren’t the same perfume; think of them as siblings with very different personalities. But, just like a parent, I love them both.

I only have assumption why some people may compare it with EN. I do not want to offend someone, so I may guess that the reason can be in shortage of the personal olfactory experience. When I first smelled Sycomore I was shocked by its unpleasant bitterness and irritating smokiness. It felt as I got drunk, felt asleep in a camp fire and woke up in the morning with a headache, disgusting myself. It cost 200+ EUR per small bottle. Insane! I got back to Sycomore in 2 years since I had sniffed it first time. It was one of the best moment I'd ever experienced with fragrances. I remember I felt in love of what I smelled. It was so rich, so complex and it transformed in time differently that it is hard to explain (I literally do not know English well to be more descriptive than I'm able being now)! I really hope that someone may have experience similar to mine, because that was that kind of moment the human could enjoy their lives. There is a list of fragrances that changed my perception of smell and Sycomore is definitely in that list.

Sycomore is a very special fragrance. It's different to many of the main perfume house's vetiver offerings. This one is a peppery, green vetiver. The mossiness of this is not subdued by the bite that is offered by the pepper and green notes. This, to me, reminds me quite strongly of Fat Electrician by Etat Libre d'Orange. While there's not much in common notewise, the vetivers in both are quite creamy. The creaminess seems to come from the aldehydes and sandalwood, which make this more than three dimensional. The violet and what I detect to be iris offers a lovely powder accord and the tobacco is just gorgeous in this. May even be a bit cigarette like. The EDT is, in my opinion, much stronger than the EDP. The EDP just doesn't last on my skin which is sad, because it offers an easier to wear version of this. It can be layered underneath the EDT. Less bitier and much less green. I've just secured a 20% full 200mL of the original formula EDT and I'm so excited to see how it relates to the other versions.

I've been spending a lot of time with this one! I tried it at the suggestion of the Chanel rep. I normally don't think much of vetiver, although I appreciate it as an aromatherapy ingredient. Anyway, she thought it would work well with my skin chemistry and so I took home the sample. Well, turns out she was right. This is vetiver that doesn't attack and overwhelm. It is woodsy, yet has a lightness to it that makes it seasonless. While I don't get much of the individual personalities of the notes because they fuse so seamlessly to create a singular smell. That is my true hallmark of a great fragrance. I find myself reaching for it a lot and every time I wear it, I get compliments. Sycomore is a classy lady with a casual flair. She is a professional, 30-something, she likes walks in nature, and she commands attention without intimidating. It is very flattering that the rep pegged me as one who should wear Sycomore. FB worthy for sure.