Heard last month at Barneys:
The husband: don't I already have all the vetivers I'll ever need?
Me: You tell me.
Him (spraying, sniffing and inhaling Coeur de Vétiver Sacré): Apparently not. I'll take it.
So much for the three tests before buying rule. But this is a vetiver and an unusual one at that. We both fell in love with this new L'Artisan Parfumeur fragrance. The husband likes the depth and the fact it's unlike any of the other vetiver in his/our collection. I've found out that I love wearing Coeur de Vétiver Sacré as a meditative perfume or while driving. There's a state where your body and the conscious alert part of your mind are focused on one task while your imagination and thoughts are elsewhere.
Coeur de Vétiver Sacré starts as a spicy black tea scent. Not chai, really, as it's not creamy, just a strong black tea with saffron and ginger . Then there's the stewed fruit accord, not quite Lutens-like as there's no cumin and far less sweetness, but it's all dried dates and figs in an aromatic liquid reminding me of faraway markets where colorful and exotic sights, sounds and smells are entwined.
It takes quite a while before the vetiver even appears. I wondered at first why they named the perfume after it. But there it was all of a sudden, in all its grassy warmth with a smooth incense as its sidekick, making for a sweet(ish) dry-down.
Coeur de Vétiver Sacré is a significant departure from most L'Artisan perfumes we've seen recently. The perfumer, Karine Vinchon, brought a new point of view to the line by creating a darker, thicker, more demanding perfume. I love it for its warmth and ability to transform and change on skin. There's a serene and atmospheric feeling to CdVS, making it perfect on a fall day. Of course, not everyone feels this way. Dane from Pere de Pierre was decidedly unimpressed, but he's bordering on being my evil scent twin. For me, CdVS hits all the right spots, something very few L'Artisans have done lately.
Coeur de Vétiver Sacré by L'Artisan Parfumeur ($135, 100ml) is exclusive to Barneys, at least for now.
Photo by Walde Huth, 1953, from dhm.de