Querfeldein

is the title of a volume by M. Goldt and in a certain way this approach reflects the emphasis that the fragrance creator seems to have found for the namesake main ingredient, vetiver.
In any case, the scent only revealed itself to me in this way after repeated use.

As with any new fragrance, one initially wonders: Is what’s on the label actually inside, or in other words: Is Vetiver Bourbon a scent where vetiver is at the center?
It seems to me that the answer is not so clear-cut, even though my experience with vetiver fragrances is limited to a few examples.
After repeated testing, the result is: The vetiver serves in the fragrance concept, in my perception, more as an underpinning and accompaniment to a green-fresh spiciness. The main scent impression that lingers in the nose is a clean oak moss note embedded in the forest. The fragrance feels very clear, cool-sensual, and refreshing, while also being spicy-soapy and tidy. No overwhelming fireworks.
Wood, smoke, earth, and grassiness-components that are generally associated with vetiver-play a secondary role. Therefore, I would like to speak of the magic of passing by the vetiver from the side when this fragrance wafts around the nose. A subtle pleasure with a retro character. Too beautiful.

Yes, the advertisement for the fragrance (see image above) with the color in the background is quite alright: It is a green scent, lightly infused with aquatic notes. Additionally, there is wood in the base and a hint of citrus in the top note.
But how does it actually smell? What is the characteristic scent feature?
For me, ENS smells like wet thuja cuttings. Anyone who has ever trimmed a thuja hedge in the autumn and, out of laziness, left some of the greenery lying around until it rained knows what I’m talking about. The scent belongs to the conifer family, but it is neither cedar, cypress, fir, nor pine. Wet thuja wrapped in vetiver.
From this, it can also be deduced when this scent accord works and when it does not. Hedges are trimmed in the autumn and early spring. The composition cannot withstand excessive heat or cold.
Because it has a stimulating, almost slightly camphor-like component, it is a daytime fragrance; in the evening, it feels too fresh.
At the same time, this fragrance also shows that scents may be designed for certain geographical or climate zones.
In my opinion, the Encre series fits Central Europe and generally temperate regions and northern areas. Everywhere where there is a high humidity (and warmth) throughout the year, such as around the Mediterranean, it quickly feels out of place or does not function properly. Unfortunately, as I can add from personal experience.
It is an original scent accord on the theme of vetiver, but it is not an aroma that harmonizes particularly well with the landscape and temperature of the Mediterranean.
Aside from that, among the three representatives EN, ENE, and this one, ENS seems to be the most accessible and wearable overall.
Give it a try!

With B&P, Pascal Morabito has created another very beautiful subtle fragrance composition. Relatively few aromatic ingredients manage to create a harmonious, delicately spicy, and rounded scent impression.
The fragrance notes mentioned include sandalwood and amyris in conjunction with patchouli and coffee. In their interplay, this creates something akin to a faintly cinnamon-spiced pluminess. A simple, yet very natural and relaxing fragrance creation.
I cannot detect coffee and patchouli. However, they likely provide the fragrance with that creamy touch, which is very balancing.
Amyris is considered the sandalwood for the poor. Perhaps this ingredient has helped to tame the stronger and sometimes somewhat bold sandalwood. It seems as though French refinement has pressed a very discreet floral note from the solid amyris wood. With a hint of liqueur.
And yes, this is a fragrance for the late summer and indeed for the later part of the year.
Perhaps the weakness of the fragrance noted by the previous reviewer, regarding longevity and projection, is actually an advantage. I can imagine that the cinnamon and sandalwood notes would otherwise come across as too heavy and sweet. Therefore, the perfumer M. Remond has done everything right in my opinion.
Recommendation!

On Maundy Thursday and green, it is well known that both are a linguistic deception, just as most vetiver fragrances we encounter are visually a deception. The green glow of the elixirs does not at all reflect the color of the sticky base material of the Asian sweet grass. This color is more akin to what I knew as the breakfast spread Grafschafter Goldsaft from my childhood. (It was always way too sweet for me. My sister enjoyed spreading the dark brown syrup on her rolls.)

In this respect, it is a great success of the creators of the early vetiver classics that they have detached the association of grass and green from the earthy base material of the root or, more precisely: reinvented it. (An "Invention of Tradition" according to E. Hobsbawm).
Nowadays, there are also a number of vetiver fragrances with different colors, but the majority of the genre still adheres to this traditional coloring, as does Bois & Vetiver by Pascal Morabito. A fragrance that I find to be an extremely successful bright, clear, fresh "green" scent.

The composition opens with a light citrus note, followed by a gently floral heart note that runs through the entire fragrance development. B&V quickly reaches the base note with a bright woody vetiver accord.

Some reviews and comments mention a strong similarity to TdH; an assessment that I only partially share. First, because the fragrance completely lacks the mineral-earthy note of the midsection of TdH. Instead, we find a very nicely integrated cheerful, fresh floral note. Secondly, B&V is fundamentally designed and marketed as an EdC ++, with such a positioning in the market. It does not possess the presence and radiance of its close relative.
Nevertheless: A beautifully delicate vetiver. Anything but tearful (formerly: greinen) on Maundy Thursday.

Thanks to the previous commentators and reviewers here who inspired me to make a blind purchase, and wishing all readers a happy Easter 2026!

Anyone who had the opportunity to travel by train to Eastern Central Europe, especially Poland, during that time could not help but encounter this scent.
Back then, there was a train connection from Frankfurt/Main to Krakow or Warsaw and further to Moscow. Departure: Three times a week, late in the evening.
The rolling stock was as international as the travelers who used this means of transport.
Backpackers, retirees, seasonal workers, and families. The Orient Express of the common people. Huge tent canvas bags that fellow travelers dragged into the compartments, where there was always too little space on the racks.
One traveled in compartments instead of modern open-plan carriages. Those with more money could reserve a spot in the sleeper car. Sleeper cars that would turn back into compartment cars the next morning as the train rattled through the Polish prairie.
And the longer the train journey lasted, the more frequently one encountered this intensely woody scent on fellow travelers: austere, herbaceous, and somewhat serious, as if the people should not laugh too much.
If one wanted to find an empty compartment as the journey progressed, this scent often lingered in the otherwise quite stale air. Even a brief draft did not make it disappear completely. A quantum of mustiness that nonetheless promised more freedom than the clean open air of our days.

How much I miss that in today's trains, the windows can no longer be opened manually, how much I miss that bumpy international train travel, where the inscription Moscow in Cyrillic letters on the train schedule glowed more than it shone.

I purchased this scent as a blind buy: it sends memories on a journey.