Sycomore Eau de Parfum by Chanel

Sycomore is a top-tier vetiver, the soloist in an orchestra of spices and aldehydes that give it freshness and light, especially at the start. It has a chorus of cypress and juniper as a base, and the floral violet adds depth and sweetness. Basically, it’s vetiver, cypress, and juniper shining thanks to molecules that enhance the blend, creating a very well-made perfume. This is how all perfumes should be. It doesn’t evolve much, but over time it gains a dusty patina that makes it more elegant. The longevity is good, but it’s missing two things: the price and a bit more sillage and projection; it stays very intimate from the start with little reach.

I’m going to write a review of this first-rate liquid… but @Espartaco took care of putting the dots on the ‘i’s and the music to the party. Nothing to add, 100% agree, what a great review, sir! I’ll just say this: I was gifted a 3ml decant of Sycomore EDP and now I don’t want to use anything else. I can’t even think of anything else. Indeed… what a pain to be poor. ___ May 2025 Update: I gave in. I found a (relative) bargain and bought a new 75ml bottle with original packaging on the resale market. I’m ecstatic.

Let’s make it clear: it’s a twin fragrance to Encre Noire. Maybe you’ll notice slightly warmer spice and tobacco notes. Once dried down, it’s the same, with no major differences. The longevity does seem better than Encre. Just keep in mind if you’re willing to pay much more for these nuances.

It’s not original, but it smells incredible and isn’t tiring. The price isn’t the issue; the problem is that it doesn’t last long. There are better and cheaper options with more longevity. What a shame.

Damn it to be poor. If I had to summarize Sycomore in one phrase: ‘what a bunch of jerks invented expensive divisions.’ I don’t remember if it was Dior or Hermès, but the truth is, the top note doesn’t always suit everyone, even though the quality is exquisite. Putting Encre Noire next to it is like comparing a Chinese bag to a Loewe one. It’s a smoky, sweet, youthful oriental vetiver, spiced, with hints of smoke and suede jackets. After fresh notes of cypress and juniper, it turns into a semi-oriental infusion, like vetiver tea made into perfume. I’m going to stop testing luxury exclusive lines; they’re better. No soft grapefruits or cheap ambroxan here, just expensive poetry. It smells like Encre Noire but more refined, like tea served in fine porcelain. Is it worth it? I don’t know, economies are like butts, we all have one. Does it smell expensive? Yes. Once Chanel had a perfume for everyone; now they don’t: for the 900-euro crowd, they make Gabrielle; for the millionaire, this exquisite scent that takes off the clothes and leaves only the skin. It smells like happiness, like a freshly combed baby. I’d love a bottle, though maybe my wallet can’t handle it. P.S.: Based on the EDP; they say the EDT was better, but to me, this one is a gem.

I received it with the excitement of a kid getting their dream toy. This is the vetiver of vetivers, a masterpiece by Polge and Sheldrake. I tried it at Chanel eight years ago and was blown away—it had everything I was looking for. I assumed the EDP would be just as bright as the original EDT, just more concentrated. Big mistake. This version is muted, doesn’t project as well, and lacks the same brightness. It’s an outrageously expensive perfume. Don’t you see? Was reformulating it really necessary? Verdict: don’t trust your gut; test before you buy.