Top Notes 
Bergamot
Lemon
Orange
Heart Notes 
Nutmeg
Vetiver
Base Notes 
Tobacco
08/12/2025
ClaireV
958 Reviews
ClaireV
1
Shame about the marshy heart
This almost drove me mad. I sprayed a bit of it on at night before bed, and then promptly forgot about it. Then the next morning, I smelled something really good on my arm - like a cross between the soapy sandalwood from the far drydown of Slumberhouse's Vikt and the horsey, slightly sweaty leather from Chanel's Cuir de Russie. I spent half of the next day rummaging through my decants and samples drawer furiously trying to remember which sample it was that smelled so damned good. When I finally figured out what it was, I have to admit I was amazed. Because the heart of this particular fragrance was so off-putting to me I could not believe that something so good had come out of it.
It got me to thinking that some fragrances are ripe for reverse engineering. Given the choice, I would go Frankenstein on Mazzolari's Vetyver. The opening smells amazing - bright, bristling with citrus and aromatics. It is juicy, sweet, and green, but without any of the attendant bitterness I associate with vetiver root. The far drydown is a beautiful, soapy sandalwood that goes on forever and smells deeply comforting.
The heart, though, evolves into this strong, dank, fetid vetiver that I find difficult to enjoy. It has the whiff of damp underthings in a Ron Burgundy's gym bag, faint BO, wet towels and all, left to fester over a period of a few weeks. Vetiver, when done like this, always reminds of me cheap men's aftershaves you used to see at the drugstore. Somewhere deep within the DNA of vetiver (the material), there is a pong of rotting saltmarshes and roots that live half in and half out of stagnant water. It smells like the seventies all over again, and fills me with a creeping dread.
It got me to thinking that some fragrances are ripe for reverse engineering. Given the choice, I would go Frankenstein on Mazzolari's Vetyver. The opening smells amazing - bright, bristling with citrus and aromatics. It is juicy, sweet, and green, but without any of the attendant bitterness I associate with vetiver root. The far drydown is a beautiful, soapy sandalwood that goes on forever and smells deeply comforting.
The heart, though, evolves into this strong, dank, fetid vetiver that I find difficult to enjoy. It has the whiff of damp underthings in a Ron Burgundy's gym bag, faint BO, wet towels and all, left to fester over a period of a few weeks. Vetiver, when done like this, always reminds of me cheap men's aftershaves you used to see at the drugstore. Somewhere deep within the DNA of vetiver (the material), there is a pong of rotting saltmarshes and roots that live half in and half out of stagnant water. It smells like the seventies all over again, and fills me with a creeping dread.
