Lalique
A unique visual signature based on accords, character, and seasonality
Cypress explodes immediately—green, sharp, almost harsh in its clarity—whilst grapefruit pith adds a bitter-clean edge that borders on medicinal. The bergamot and lavender swirl underneath, aromatic and herbal, creating this tense, tightly wound introduction that smells more like crushed botanicals than anything overtly fresh.
The dual vetiver takes centre stage now, earthy and slightly smoky, with the Haitian offering grassy, almost soil-like facets whilst the Bourbon brings darker, woodier tones. Nutmeg provides just enough spice to warm the composition without sweetening it, and those aquatic notes manifest as a mineral coolness, like river stones and wet bark rather than anything remotely oceanic.
Cashmere wood and musk soften the vetiver's edges into something skin-close and surprisingly intimate, though the green-woody character persists. What remains is subtle but tenacious—a whisper of earthy roots, faded cypress, and that peculiar clean-dirty quality that only vetiver can provide.
Encre Noire Sport takes the grey-green melancholy of its predecessor and jolts it with morning light and mountain air. Nathalie Lorson has essentially deconstructed the original's brooding vetiver monument and rebuilt it with a backbone of cypress—that sharp, resinous conifer note that smells of Mediterranean hillsides and gin botanicals. The grapefruit here isn't sweet or pink; it's white pith and bitter oil, slicing through the composition like a cold blade. What makes this genuinely interesting is how the lavender (proper Provençal lavender, not the clean laundry variety) threads through the vetiver duo, creating this curious aromatic-woody hybrid that hovers between cologne and something far more substantial. The Haitian and Bourbon vetiver provide contrasting textures—one grassier and more volatile, the other earthier and almost smoky—whilst aquatic notes (often a red flag) here simply add a mineral quality, like wet stone rather than synthetic melon. This isn't "sporty" in the generic fresh fougère sense; it's more like the scent of someone who's just come down from a serious hike through scrubland, carrying traces of crushed herbs on their clothes. The cashmere wood in the base keeps it from becoming too astringent, though this remains firmly in vetiver-lover territory. For those who found the original Encre Noire too gothic, too ink-stained, this offers the same olfactory DNA with the curtains thrown open.
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3.9/5 (206)