With hardly any other fragrance did Patricia de Nicolaï compete so much with the family legacy as with this one. She took her time, many years. In 2004, it was finally time, her Vetyver was launched. And as expected, the reviews were mixed, as is often the case with her scents - they polarize. It certainly didn't help that almost everyone compared it to the legendary Vetiver from Guerlain. This was certainly a natural comparison and probably didn't surprise her - a new Vetiver (or Vetyver) from a member of the Guerlain family was bound to attract attention, and expectations were high: how would she handle this difficult-to-tame, multifaceted root, which side would she emphasize - the rough, earthy, or the fresh, green? And in what context would she place it?
Jean-Paul Guerlain chose the fresh, radiant side over forty years ago and combined his Vetiver with citrus and tobacco notes. A gardener employed at the house, who always carried a pouch of pipe tobacco with him, served as his inspiration. More than a quarter-century later, Jacques Flori composed a Vetiver for Etro that could hardly be more contrasting: woody, earthy, and smoky. He chose the dark side, but also combined it with tobacco notes, although the color of the fragrance is more of a deep brown than a bright green. Both fragrances were immensely influential and have inspired many imitators, who varied either the upward-reaching, green part or the downward-boring, deep into the dark earth. Few have embraced both sides, like Dominic Ropion, who created his Vetiver Extraordinaire for Frederic Malle - a Vetiver that rather reminds one of damp stones protruding from the earth, overgrown with grass.
Now, Patricia de Nicolaï indeed follows in her uncle's footsteps, she faces the comparison and follows the root into the light. But instead of sprouting in the garden of the pipe-smoking gardener, who tends to flower beds and trims the lawn, her Vetyver flourishes in the wildest herb garden: coriander, cumin, cloves, pepper - a wild jumble of the strongest spices. A few floral accords try to tame the chaos - especially Ylang Ylang and a bit of jasmine. But it is only after a few hours that the tumult calms down a bit after Madame Nicolaï has sprinkled a whole handful of powdery coumarin (tonka bean) over the loud scene. The longevity of the fragrance is, by the way, excellent!
This extraordinary, almost extreme spiciness, however, poses a challenge for many who try this scent for the first time. Particularly the overt cumin note makes some noses wrinkle. Many associate it with the smell of sweat, which I can only partially understand, as I love cumin and its scent. Those who do not like it also dislike its piercing, sharp smell, which can indeed be perceived as sweaty. On the other hand, one also knows that fresh sweat can have an aphrodisiac effect (can, not must!)
But for those who are receptive to this spicy assault on the senses, and I am, one can truly get intoxicated by this fragrance. It doesn't always work for me, or not daily, but now and then I am completely crazy about this quirky perfume. It’s like having a good, rather eccentric, and therefore quite exhausting, but also stimulating friend - you wouldn’t want him around all the time, or you’d go crazy, but now and then you desperately need a big dose of him to bring some momentum and color back into the daily grind.
In contrast to Jean-Paul Guerlain's rather well-behaved, uncle-like Vetiver, de Nicolaï's work is characterized by a soothing eccentricity and urban chic, making it harder for most to wear (and endure). Her Vetyver will certainly not appeal to the masses, as the old Vetiver did, but I suspect she didn't want that at all. Her market segment is much smaller than that of the Guerlain house, and her fewer customers appreciate her contrasting and quirky, often demanding, yet classically stylish creations. With her Vetyver, she could afford to take a bit more risk, yes, she even had to in order to assert herself against Guerlain's Vetiver - and I believe she has succeeded more than well.
It remains a challenging fragrance nonetheless.