Racquets Formula Penhaligon's 1989

A few days ago, I intended to write something about this beautiful gem, a fragrance that is often overlooked due to its sheer understatement, one that has even disappeared for a few years only to suddenly reappear as if nothing had happened - but then I was preempted by Apicius in this forum.
His - as always! - wonderful description and classification of the fragrance inspired me to finally write something about Racquets Formula, not because I have much to add to his assessment, but because I experience this scent quite differently, and it seems to me exemplary of how subjectively fragrances can be perceived, or how difficult it is, indeed almost impossible, to grasp them objectively.
When I first tested Racquets Formula, I immediately had the association of a powdered meadow; white, almost dust-like talc on green grass, marking the sidelines of a playing field - but also: the large badger hair brush that my Turkish barber uses with Felce Azzurra and which he sweeps across my face after cutting my hair to remove the small fallen hairs.
Or, to put it simply: Wimbledon and Barbershop.

But not the Wimbledon of today, where fearsome muscle-bound athletes smash felt balls at lightning speed and half-naked girls moan in competition. No, this is the Wimbledon of yesteryear, the Wimbledon of Fred Perry and Gottfried von Cramm, or also the Wimbledon of Helen Wills Moody and Suzanne Lenglen - when players still wore long white trousers with creases and the female players wore white skirts with long white stockings underneath. These players entered the courts impeccably dressed, were freshly coiffed or shaved, and surely one or the other took the scent of the talcum powder used to combat the impending sweat odor onto the court.
Yes, this fragrance has something completely old-fashioned about it, and if I didn’t know that it was created in the late 1980s (by a certain Francis Pickthall), I would estimate its origin to be sometime in the 1920s, or perhaps even earlier.

However, this old-fashioned element has nothing outdated or musty about it, but rather something sincere, stylish, paired with understatement and an aristocratic demeanor. For this reason, I also place it closer to another, much lesser-known Penhaligon classic, namely: Douro (formerly also called Lords). Like this, Racquets Formula is a classic Fougère par excellence, but with a different emphasis: it is a thoroughly green Fougère, while Douro mainly sets aromatic accents. Both share the typical Fougère triad of herby lavender, powdery coumarin, and rugged, mossy notes. Douro develops towards a robust gentleman's scent suitable for a business or club environment, while Racquets Formula leans more towards an aristocratic country scent, perfect for lighter sporting activities like a round of golf or a set of tennis.

Estée Lauder's Alliage would be another fragrance that could be compared to Racquets Formula - a cologne that also deals with the theme of sport and was the first to carry the term "Sport" in its subtitle, and still does: Sport Spray. However, Alliage is much more floral, full of bitter-green galbanum and strong cedar in the base. The fragrance lacks the powdery facet of the lavender-tonka combination found in Racquets Formula; it is fresher and more dynamic, in a certain way also more American than the thoroughly British Racquets Formula.
Speaking of 'British': the Brits love their traditional grass sports - be it polo, cricket, hockey, or indeed tennis. And everywhere they use racquets to hit various balls. Thus, it is fitting that on the gray-green box containing Racquets Formula, as well as on the small ribbon adorning the bottle, there are numerous small racquets alongside the balls to be hit. This enthusiasm for sport has inspired Penhaligon's to dedicate this fragrance, an attempt at an olfactory correspondence.

Penhaligon's itself describes Racquets Formula as: ‘...a light and zesty vetiver based cologne with a distinctive powdery dry down.’
Not that there is no trace of vetiver to be found - it is there. But it is so subdued and integrated into the Fougère concept that it is hardly perceptible in isolation. Yet it gives this fragrance its green side (in contrast to the galbanum-laden Alliage), quite similar to Guerlain's Vetiver. Only, unlike this, the rubbery, slightly medicinal aspects of the root are clipped, and the remaining green components are woven into a citrusy-powdery-woody environment. So do not think of it as a vetiver fragrance in the contemporary sense - with scents like Encre Noir or Vetiver Extraordinaire, Racquets Formula has hardly anything in common. I would therefore not go so far as to call it a vetiver fragrance: for me, it is clearly a classic green Fougère, with the typical construction for this genre (including a floral bouquet in the heart notes that is not particularly weighty, but the main characteristic of Fougères is usually the herby-powdery-mossy backbone, and a floral element at most serves as decoration).

Allegedly, Racquets Formula is a cologne, yet the longevity of the fragrance easily matches that of an Eau de Toilette. The scent is anything but loud, yet still quite noticeable, and above all: thoroughly gentleman-like (presumably it maintains its understatement even with over-application!).

It would suit the strange, not unsympathetic conservatism of a Prince Charles well.
Doesn’t he enjoy playing polo?