Vetiver Royal Bourbon

If we except the skills of the one who uses it, the most important part of a sword is its blade. Its hilt and scabbard can be exquisite pieces of craftsmanship, often adorned with precious metals and gems, but it's always the least adorned part, its blade, that gets the work done. And if anyone is wandering about what is sword talk doing in a perfume review, Vetiver Royal Bourbon is like mounting a very old and battle proven blade on a new housing. A century old fragrance launched anew, with what seems to be lots of respect to its ancestry. And this is like something that does not happen every day in people's lives. Like something that is exceptional enough to be mentioned elaborately and in great detail. Something like being unlucky enough to fall from atop a juniper tree and hit every single branch on your way down. But also being lucky enough, to land on a thick layer of vetiver grass, and thus escape your fall unscathed. And there you'll doff your leather gloves and light up your pipe and think. Cause if there's something that this curio engenders more than anything else, it's thoughts. Thoughts like "How dare they?" Thoughts like "Are they nuts?" Thoughts like "Didn't they know it was 2014?" And all that stuff which come to mind upon encountering such an oddity during the second decade of the 21st century. But despite banging its own drum while walking a very lonely path, Vetiver Royal Bourbon has actually a lot of things to say. This little weirdo is a very-very interesting case. Very bitter, very earthy, very herbal and very unique. Oh, and very challenging to wear too. To my silly nose, it smells like hot stones. But not hot because of being under a scorching sun for too long, but hot because this castle was burned during a siege. I don't know whether it's the fact that I have not smelled it for many years, but I'm under the impression that Vetiver Royal Bourbon is very similar with vintage Daniel Hechter's Caractere. At first, this thought seemed like it had no grounds at all, since the two fragrances only share a couple of notes. But then came the epiphany. Most of Vetiver Royal Bourbon's notes are somewhat neighbouring the ones of this forgotten relic from the late '80s. -Artemisia instead of vetiver. -Fir instead of juniper. -Amber instead of styrax. -Sage instead of thyme. -Basil instead of mint. With the mystery solved, I relished the thought of how much I loved Caractere back in the day, cause it smelled nothing like anything else. So, the verdict here could not be any different. I love Vetiver Royal Bourbon too. I like bizzare scents, and this one is surely of the kind that will raise the "What the hell is that smell?" question. A lot. And if it wasn't so damn pricy, I could vision myself buying two or three bottles just in case it's discontinued. Finally, and despite that this may sound a bit out of the blue, I'll finish this review the way I started it. With swords. So, since I take it that Caractere doesn't ring a bell to at least 50% of the readers, I'll crown Vetiver Royal Bourbon as the Yatagan of our time. Not based that much on sheer similarity, but on being heavy, sharp and sexy to the nth degree...

Mint and vetiver work well together, particularly when the vetiver is the ultra-deluxe, Royal Bourbon variety used here. At the risk of being tiresome, I'll just point out that there are many different types of vetiver harvested around the globe, but some of the best come from Haiti. The vetiver generally considered the best grown on Haiti is the stuff that was once reserved for the use of the French royal house, the Bourbons. This vetiver is what Oriza L. Legrande uses in this fragrance. I love vetiver scents, own many, and this one is at the very top of the list for me. I loved it at my first sniff. There is a sweet mint, I think spearmint, in the opening that has some spice to it and some floral tinged thyme as well. But soon, the clean, herbal soapy Royal Bourbon vetiver emerges to waltz with the opening notes. This beginning of the heart of the fragrance is camphorous and uplifting, but it is saved from straying into sinus rub territory by a warm tobacco note that comes along just as things might have become difficult and smooths and tempers the menthol element. Joining the tobacco are some buttery floral notes, notably iris, that keep the heart from presenting an imitation of Newport cigarettes, thank goodness, and in doing so keep this scent on the beautiful side of the beauty/beast divide. In the base, there is more vetiver, this time a bit nutty and earthy along with a leather accord that is ever so slightly rough. Fortunately, there is also a delightful blend of oak moss, resins and sandalwood to keep things mellow. The scent is exceptionally well blended and ingredients seem incredibly high quality. Between the vetiver, leather and resins, this scent might seem somewhat masculine leaning, but in actual use, it is unisex. Longevity and projection are moderate. The presentation is strikingly elegant and seems intended to reference the venerable nature of the house. Vetiver lovers will adore this fragrance and can safely buy it blind if the price doesn't put them off. This is a fragrance where you get what you pay for in terms of quality and presentation. Those folks who don't love all vetiver scents will definitely want to sample RBV to see if it is within their comfort zone. Regardless of your feelings toward vetiver, this scent is so well compounded that it is really worth smelling if the opportunity arises. This fragrance is a vetiver masterpiece.

This is the epitome of underrated. Take Grey Vetiver EDP, add mint, and make it long lasting and complex, and this is what you end up with. It's clean and classyalm while having the personality of a chameleon. I can't think of a place where it wouldn't fit in. Maybe a club playing only top 40? This stuff does the gym, the grocery store, family outings, fancy eateries, and the office without cause a fuss. The bourbon vetiver shouldn't scare you ( this isn't parfum d empires take): it's balanced. There is decent smoke and green freshness there all at times, but it is neatly layered under everything else. It starts with a big hit of freezing, chilled citrus and mint that follows a slow volatility curve until there's nothing but musk and vetiver some 7 hrs later This scent makes me regret still having nearly 3/4s of a bottle left of Grey Vetiver. The mint isn't toothpaste at all, but adds a cold zing that probably could be habit forming in extreme heat. While I don't get many of the notes listed, it is very complex. I think this might be a decent representation of how scent must have been prior to the private equity and billion dollar marketing campaigns. The nuances come in ripples and folds, twisting and turning in the air and reveling new angles to the vetiver, citrus ( I get a juicy sweet orange /lemon combo) and mint. It's a much different and far more enjoyable experience than the typical "accord" structure of scents now, monolithic and relentless in their pursuit of creating an olfactory wall of sound. After buying a full bottle of St. Vetyver, I promised the wife no more vetiver. Shes already disapponted I am never in the mood for the dossier grabs she got me. She also has become convinced any more than 1/16 of a spray of Sauvage Elixir is offensive hahah. Regardless, she is vetiverd out. She personally like this one though, which makes it at least as good in my book as Grey Vetiver, St. Vetiver, and Encre Noire Sport. It's a shame I already promised no more until my birthday, but I was really tempted to get it anyway. 4 stars

It is a printing character vetiver, rough, masculine, elegant and classic. The opening is sharp and fresh, very green, starring mainly vetiver and mint. I must say that the combination of both ingredients is excellent. Thyme feel but in my skin begins to take center stage after 10 minutes, and I'm almost certain that there is some undeclared spice, because after 15 minutes approximately, comes forward a note of cumin and thyme (I may not be cumin, but I'm pretty sure it is). At this stage the fresh start will be diminishing and becoming more warm and spicy for spices and snuff. From the 2-hour wake it decreases to work very close to the skin, and spices are disappearing to make way for a drier vetiver, which gives a feeling of grass / boil cut a few days ago which was not collected and it dries in the sun. It is still green, but is no longer fresh as in the beginning, but now has a slightly smoky and dry character. The trail is very good the first time, the second time decreases enough, then settles on the skin. Longevity is about 8 hours on my skin. Note: 7.50 / 10

There is a lot of complexity to this one, with various elements weaving in and out against that lovely, slightly sweet, dewy vetiver. After the opening, the fist stage is dominated by spicy notes, to me it smells like clove, though not listed. Then, the spicy notes fade a dark, dirty, patchouli pops in and out, as does a gorgeous saddle soap type of leather. The labdanum slowly gains more prominence and the fragrance steers towards the wonderfully dry Oriza L. Legrand signature amber, but this time backed with a subtle sweetness. Personally, I'm a fan of vetiver, and really enjoy this one, though it's an early wearing from a sample, it seems like the type of scent that will keep it's mystery as you discover more each wearing. Edit: after a few more wearings, I'm getting the mint/thyme combo, which is creating that soft sweetness. I normally dislike sweet fragrances, as I find them cloying, but here it's just perfect.