Vétiver

Eau de Vétiver pour Monsieur

Carven 1957 Eau de Toilette

I just found a vintage wooden cap swaped with a perfume.
Nice sharp citruses and spices on very earthy dry smoky vetiver are very quality here where moss cedar combined to exudes 80s or 90s but wait 2000s is obvious too it is not too dated ,it is classic though. Its clean soapy and mossy on dry down.
The quality of vetiver is there specially it mix with smokiness of franckincense.

This is older classic formulation (I got myself the handsome wooden cap version) is hardcore vetiver, no embellishment, no sweetening, no gussying up, it is dry, smoky, musty, earthy, and just wow...

The vetiver combined with the petitgrain and aromatics remind me of the smell of an arid summer day, with the sun beating down on field of long grasses, dry wind carrying the fragrance through the air. For some reason, Plum Island or the Cape Cod National Seashore come to mind.

It wears light, isn't overbearing at all, and lasts several hours. Carven Vetiver is a great yang to Guerlain Vetiver's yin.

Vetiver was my mentor during my apprenticeship as a perfumer. My relationship with it began with a bottle of Guerlain's Vetiver (Eau de Toilette) that I received as a gift. I can still remember our first encounter, the moment of collision. With a certain reverence, I pressed the atomizer; after all, Guerlain is not just any name, so good things were to be expected....but instead of sensual associations, thoughts of damp earth and mustiness rushed through my mind. Pure disappointment, and this could have been where my story with Vetiver ended, but fortunately, it did not. Somehow, I didn't want to settle for my spontaneous and negative impression, read comments about Guerlain's Vetiver, tried it again and again, also tried other vetivers, Vétivers, Vetyvers (and whatever they are all called) - and a completely new world opened up to me. I discovered that Vetiver can smell damp, dry, medicinal, musty, crystalline, and so much more.

When I used to read origin designations like Bergamotto di Sicilia or Java Vetiver in fragrance pyramids, I always thought they were marketing platitudes to make the product more interesting. My exploration of Vetiver has taught me otherwise. I now know that Java Vetiver has a particularly pronounced medicinal note, and origin designations can indeed provide insight into the character of a fragrance. Thus, I have given most of the vetivers I appreciate "nicknames," as if they were friends. There is the "Aristovetyver"
(Givenchy), the "Mustard Vetiver" (Lubin), the "Medicine Vetiver" (Goutal), the "Rubber Vetiver" (Heeley). To make it short, I appreciate them all.

And since this week, I have a bottle of the original Vétiver by Carven in my hands. It is not an original bottle from 1957, but a later one with a wooden rather than a metal cap. Even though the Guerlain version is often cited as the reference vetiver, connoisseurs give the Carven Vétiver an honorary place in the Hall of Fame. So a certain reverence was also appropriate here.

Given the many notes in the fragrance pyramid, I was prepared for a citrusy opening sequence through which the vetiver would have to fight its way slowly. However, it is present from the very beginning and reminds me somewhat of the (unfortunately discontinued) Vetiver by Annick Goutal. While Goutal lets the strongly medicinal note of Java Vetiver run free in the top note of her fragrance, Carven keeps it under control. A veil of citrus notes softens this medicinal note. At the same time, clove and sage are presented as equal competitors to the vetiver.

Over time, the veil of citrus notes begins to slightly discolor, the yellow of the citrus fruits fades, turning slightly brownish and becoming more intense, while woody notes spread and push aside the citrus notes, but not the clove and sage. At this stage, it seems to me
almost as if the fragrance gains an ethereal freshness that reminds me a bit of mint.

I particularly like that many fragrance notes are recognizable individually: Vétiver, clove, sage, sandalwood. Is this a sign that the fragrance is well-balanced or not? In this context, I would rather speak of a well-arranged coexistence of various "prominent" fragrance notes.

I often associate vetiver fragrances with being wet and damp. Carven's Vétiver is not that at all. It is very dry and herbal, which also sets it apart from other vetiver fragrances. Oh, I still need a nickname. Clove Vetiver doesn't sound too bad, does it?

Grazie Markus

When talking about vetiver, most people probably have the eponymous Eau de Toilette from Guerlain in mind. For me, it's an old-school masterpiece, but for my nose, it's a bit too scratchy and demanding to wear enjoyably. Moreover, although it dates back to 1959, I unfortunately don't know what has changed about the scent over the years or how much has been reformulated.

With my miniature bottle from a flea market (see below), I also have no idea from which era it originates, but it comes across as much softer, greener, and more vibrant.

It starts unexpectedly pleasantly plump with a lemony-fresh note, only to quickly introduce more spice and woodiness, along with the namesake vetiver. The vetiver reveals itself in its greenish yet subtly scratchy side, ensuring that the typical vetiver character is preserved while appearing beautifully rounded.

Especially the clary sage, cedar, and sandalwood do an excellent supporting job here without taking up too much space, allowing the vetiver to unfold properly. Even towards the end, everything remains on track, as befits a classic.

It comes across as noble and masculine, and could work in this style for the office, sports field, and evening events - both contemporary and timeless, though more suitable for sunny days.

Now, I don't know if my version was already this exemplary in 1957, but one can recognize this structure in many other vetiver variants from competitors - although not always as successfully as here.

For me, it's the greenish vetiver blueprint that many have oriented themselves towards and tried - even Guerlain, although for me, Carven had the edge not just in terms of the year.

...at the beginning: Fresh-green spice... less citrusy than the pyramid suggests... "substantial," because all the players are on stage from the start, even if some are still in the background...

Notable: Muscatel sage and clove... the latter persists from beginning to end, so herbaceous and dry that it almost seems peppery...

...Vetiver, very pronounced, strong, slightly licorice-like, a bit bitter... clear and cool like a spring or autumn morning, when the grass is still soaking wet from the dew and the early fog hangs in the hollows... Cedar? Sandalwood? Certainly... but as part of the whole, polished dark wood as an overall impression, not as an individually perceivable component...

Moss: Absolutely... and not sparingly! Together with the vetiver, wonderfully strong and earthy... Amber, musk? Perhaps, as extras in the very back row.

...the special feature: Frankincense and myrrh... for me, less smoky, more resinous-fresh. Very present... determining the entire progression...

Conclusion: "Eau de Vétiver pour Monsieur" has little in common with the many current "office-appropriate" designer vetivers; cashmere turtlenecks didn't exist back then. And that's probably why it is so wonderfully powerful, angular, resinous, and creaky... in a positive sense, somewhat old-fashioned and British-urban, down-to-earth yet gentleman-like - like tweed and wool sweater with leather accents.

So, for anyone still looking for the perfect scent for an extensive morning ride through their vast estates: This would be a fitting choice.