Silvestre by Victor

I remember my father introducing a coworker with a strong gray beard who smelled like Silvestre. It’s a brutal masculine scent, packed with pine and lemon, along with other green notes listed on the bottle. The downside is the longevity is typical of a cologne; it would be ideal if it were an Eau de Parfum, but don’t fool anyone.

This is the scent I’ve been searching for so long! It’s an olfactory memory, but I can’t determine when or where. Perhaps it was many times I felt it during my childhood; something makes me intuit that’s how it was. I saw a tester bottle at the ‘Primor’ perfumery, and when I tested it, that sensation of having heard it many times in my childhood came to me. Maybe my grandfather used it during a certain period, but I don’t know. I intuited that this lost scent would be in one of the ‘green bottle’ fragrances: Agua Brava, Pino Silvestre, Paco Rabanne, etc. Well, without thinking much, I finally found it. The concept of ‘old barbershop cologne’ is unequivocal: Pine, moss, vetiver, soap, cleanliness, freshness, forest, weeds, water, hygiene, neatness, elegance, simplicity, and, using personal subjectivity, a vein of sober man. I find it a virile, calm, pleasant aroma, absolutely the opposite of neon lights and metrosexuality. Unfortunately, its longevity is brief and the projection isn’t high. Perhaps it wasn’t like this back then, but nowadays it falls a bit short. Surely it won’t appeal to young people, but the fact that they keep producing it speaks very highly of it.

Victor’s Silvestre is very pleasant and nostalgic. Close your eyes and enjoy the opening, which reminds me of the legendary Aqua di Selva. The city disappears, and you feel a lush green punch that transforms into freshly cut trees—very stimulating. Midway through the jungle walk, the scent softens, becomes rosier (rose is key here), and a good vetiver and musk appear. It’s exquisite, but it has a major flaw: poor longevity, even for an Eau de Cologne. Curiously, the tester performed well (I always thought testers were better), but the bottle I bought, identical to the tester, barely lasts an hour and a half on my skin. It’s worth trying if you like greens and don’t mind… they won’t confuse you with your grandfather.

At the entrance of a forest dominated by lichens and mosses, where you can barely see the wood or leaves, there is a central clearing bathed in light. There grow pristine lavender plants that shade dusty flowers seeking the coolness of a stream with soapy waters. If Agua Brava is known for heading toward verdancy and wood, Silvestre’s path is less known, cleaner, neater, and I’d dare say, longer-lasting.

A classic that my grandfather always kept in his big bathroom. A scent of family, class, herbaceous, forest, and grass; it has always been there since its launch in the 40s. The most iconic thing for me is that my name is Victor Silvestre, what a coincidence, hehe! I don’t wear it myself, but I always keep one at home. I love having the bottle in the bathroom just like my grandfather did; it transports me back to happy times.

It has always been there, discreetly, in the less frequented corners of the shelves, perhaps because its minority audience is tremendously loyal. Its emerald green presentation, so out of fashion, encloses an opening that perfectly describes the name: Silvestre de Victor, 1946. An opening of 10, one of my favorites, radiating everything opposite to what is trendy now: WILD NATURALNESS, fresh and bitter green, wet field, pine, oregano, spices. It fully convinced me. It’s the closest thing to my longed-for petrichor, to earth and wet forest. A dream of an opening, but once it settles, things change; the multiplicity of notes forms a curtain similar to an undeclared bitter incense. Others experience this too; many think it carries incense, perhaps our noses aren’t domesticated enough yet. Incense is ambiguous in my taste; in Silvestre, that herbal sensation disappoints me after such a fresh and invigorating opening, full of nuances. But the heart seems to be a single fermented note. At that moment, the green turns more yellowish and burnt. All in all, it’s a woody green of pure classic school, the kind that are no longer made. Highly recommended. I always have a bottle; it’s economical and lasts longer than other expensive perfumes I own. Being a cologne, it projects like an Eau de Toilette. 8 out of 10.