Cyril R. Salter | French Vetiver
Island Bladeworks | Stoya | Elite Razor Manchurian
Gem Damaskeene (1914-1915) | Gem Jr. Elite "Ivory" Handle (ca. 1906) | Gem PTFE
Catie's Bubbles | Revolution | Before & After Shave
Talbot Shaving | Authors Ridge EdT About a week ago, amidst one of my SOTD posts in which I was singing the praises of Catie's Bubbles' Haitian vetiver-loaded 322, a fellow wet shaver challenged me to give Cyril R. Salter's French Vetiver a try. While he admitted he'd never experienced 322, he owns a vial of Haitian vetiver essential oil and found that CRS French Vetiver was "the closest [he had] smelled to the pure EO." Intrigued, I picked up a tub.
I've stated on several occasions that 322 is my all-time favorite fragrance. I'm so enamored with this fragrance that I have back-ups of the parfum extrait. Given this, any competitor starts well behind the line in any endeavor to strum that olfactory chord for me.
Unlike this fellow wet shaver, I do not own a Haitian vetiver EO sample, so I can't make the direct comparison as to the accuracy of either 322 or CRS to the "pure" EO. Rather, this is intended to impart my impression of CRS French Vetiver to 322.
French Vetiver opens with the expected earthy grassiness anticipated with any singularly vetiver fragrance. At least initially, the earthiness is clean, if that makes any sense. As opposed to being damp, dark, and swampy, it's more closely related to dry earth that's free of any decaying vegetation other than perhaps oak leaves. It then moves to even more grassiness and less earth to the point of smelling like Bermuda hay and warm unshelled peanuts in burlap. As the shave progresses, the fragrance has a brief transitional element that is reminiscent of sun-baked dirt emanating chalky minerals and salt. Holding onto this salt, the fragrance abruptly becomes wet, and even dank, with impressions of thick green moss and smoky seawater-rich tarry black peat. To a vetiver head, you're sold, right? No? Well, then now you're getting the idea of how Haitian vetiver deviates a bit from other varieties. CRS's French Vetiver doesn't dress this up, and as a result, some will find this repulsive. In much that same way a Highland single-malt scotch aficionado may rebuff an Islay.
So how does French Vetiver compare to 322? In a word, marginally. But in all fairness, it's an apples-to-oranges comparison. 322 never claimed to be singularly Haitian vetiver. I've stated previously that with 322 it was love at first whiff, but I would not be surprised that the enormous Haitian vetiver presence immediately turns off some users that may have otherwise come to appreciate it if not love it. (Again, forgive the scotch comparison, but the same thing often occurs in this realm. Subsequent "tastes" uncover previously obscured elements as the subject develops a taste for something they'd previously detested. Hence "acquired taste".)
Compared to French Vetiver, 322 is darker right off the bat. It's also sharper on the top end and carries a distinct bloody-plum richness evocative of Merlot or Syrah wine which is no doubt the perfumer's incorporation of black currant and patchouli. 322 also has a woodiness that has a resinous element making it less distinctly oak and more cedar. This aspect almost completely chokes out the warm peanut, salt, and dusty burlap vibe I detected in the French Vetiver. As complex as my French Vetiver description may be, 322 has much more dynamic range and depth, although as I alluded earlier, a patient nose may be necessary.
I warned you earlier that I'm biased in favor of 322 given my unnatural love affair with it. The reality is I don't dislike CRS French Vetiver at all, but even if I wasn't intentionally making a mental comparison, just using it made me long for 322 as it imparted just enough common elements to remind me of what it was missing. One more very important disclaimer despite the glaring one that I have a long-standing experience with 322, is that I use the extrait routinely. I would dare say that this alone taints my brain's interpretation of the soap because the extrait is a far better medium. I suspect that had I never used the extrait I most likely would not have been able to extract so much, even from the 322 soap.
As to the performance, Cyril R. Salter is a cream and it performs similarly to Art of Shaving's products, and that is to say it's a solid performer. As per my usual pattern, I test lathered with a couple different knots the evening before putting it into use. The lather building is fool-proof as far as creams go. It's fairly easy to break the lather with over watering as well as super hot water. When optimized, it yields a dense, creamy lather. If you get any fluffiness, you've over watered. Slickness, both primary and residual, are both good, but nowhere near the artisan pack leaders. The post shave is moisturizing, but again, nothing to which I'm accustomed in the artisan realm. As specifically compared to Catie's Bubble's Luxury Cream, CRS quite simply can't even compete.