No, this fragrance does NOT offer the essence of vetiver. Instead, it presents a gentle vetiver framed by light citrus, cardamom, and nut wood, which might appeal even to some sweet grass root-phobics or vetiver newcomers. For a scent that truly deserves the name Vetiver Essence, please turn to the monks of the Monastère de Ganagobie; their monothematic Vétyver fragrance offers a wonderfully enjoyable journey (not a cloister!) through the many aspects of vetiver, from ethereal freshness to rooty bitterness to earthy-chocolate notes.
As a perfume lover, being seduced by reading Parfumo articles about fragrances whose brands or licensors are ideologically and lifestyle-wise distant from you is one of the (temporarily) irritating aspects of the Parfumo existence. From the somewhat obvious designers (Armani, Boss, Cerruti, etc.), one unexpectedly ends up - even though one prefers cycling and finds car fetishists silly - at Bentley, Jaguar, and Ferrari. Or even - as a rather worldly hedonist - with southern French monks. And one rubs their eyes at which brands and images are suddenly displayed in (my?! Is that still me? If so, how many?) shelf.
What the heck: Always follow your nose, always adhere to the most convincing and seductive Parfumo comments, that is the tried-and-true pilgrim rule to the fragrance paradise.
Vetiver is one of those challenging notes that deter many perfume lovers. Many self-proclaimed vetiver skeptics and sweet grass root scaredy-cats gather at Parfumo.de. However, you can also read some conversion reports of successfully managed confrontation therapies here. The undersigned also counts as a convert, having not consumed the spice grass (more precisely: its roots) with mother's milk.
I still vividly remember the medium shock when I first had the harsh Guerlain Vetiver from 1959 under my nose. It truly took several attempts to appreciate this classic from my favorite house. However, I still wear this heavy, earthier fellow from the old school much less often than his pleasing, tonka cedar-enclosed, freed from herb tobacco, thus restrained and far less extreme son. Which was named Guerlain Vetiver Extrême; fragrance names are often absurd!
This Ferrari scent may not be absurd, but hardly anyone needs to fear it. This vetiver does not come roaring around the corner (like the innocently named Encre Noir from Lalique), it rather approaches softly humming like an e-bike. A bit of citrus freshness with grapefruit and petitgrain (but nothing of the brilliant Ellena-esque sharpness of Terre de Hermes) in the top notes; a few gentle rooty nuances with cardamom, coffee, and iris dust around the vetiver heart - and finally a bit of wood down below and in the drydown. In my opinion, the gentle nut wood note actually provides a refined, elegant counterpoint to the green-bitter vetiver.
Conclusion: The vetiver of the monks from the Monastère de Ganagobie is the real, nature-close hiking or cycling scent: the Vétyver essence! Guerlain's old vetiver is a rather angular and hefty, yet herb-elegant classic of the fragrance direction: a heavily motorized vintage car with worn leather seats, in which smoking once took place.
Ferrari (more precisely: the licensing Perfume Holding) offers a well-made, contemporary vetiver pleasure that is practical and nimble. However, the materials here do seem a bit artificial - and have been combined into a possibly somewhat wobbly aroma chord: akin to an e-folding bike with a mediocre battery. It fits in the subway, the train, and the trunk. It can be used urbanly, but it also works in nature. It appears more sporty than elegant; thus, it suits jeans & t-shirt better than a suit and cufflinks.
The friendly liquid is more suitable for transitional seasons than for extreme temperatures. Longevity and sillage are moderate and thus definitely contradict the Beast Mode, that roaring which one would expect from Ferrari in brand-appropriate fashion.
This humane, somewhat lame scent, more Bobby-Car than bolide (that's a compliment, folks!), is still available online at moderate prices.
EPILOGUE and a small SUGGESTION for adjustments of juices, names, and brands:
As a language and nose worker, one is, well, always striving to bring words and things (Les mots et les choses - to play a bit with Foucault) into alignment. Order should prevail, we find, quite unneurotically!
We therefore ask Guerlain to swap the names on their Vetiver and Vetiver Extrême bottles. Furthermore, the following ring exchange is requested: Lalique hands over the sharp-loud contents of its art vetiver roarer 'Encre Noir' to the Ferrari licensee. Under this brand, it can really roar! Ferrari's/Perfume Holdings already nice, albeit average mid-range brew should now be marketed by Ford as Grey Vetiver (that fits!).
While the freed name Vetiver Essence now rightfully passes to the monks of the Ganagobie monastery, who offer exactly this (at Christian prices!). Their elegantly ypsilonized Vétyver name may now, if you please, go to Lalique - although I am now beginning to lose track of what Lalique should fill into these beautiful flacons in the future, as their previous contents are now being marketed as Ferrari. Useful hints please to Monsieur Teste, c/o Paul Valéry, Cimetière Marin, Sète, France - or to Lalique.
Top Notes 
Grapefruit
Red pepper
Petitgrain
Heart Notes 
Vetiver
Cardamom
Citrus notes
Coffee bean
Iris
Base Notes 
Tonka bean
Hazelnut wood
Cedar
Patchouli
Elysium
Yatagan
Kovex
Ergoproxy
Anor8k
Globomanni
Verbaplex
Dawg
AmberSound
ThomC
