Here's how I would have done Eau Sauvage in parfum form, using the same ingredients as Francois Demachy:
The top note would have been a rich (but not piercing) bergamot, the kind found in the finest Earl Grey tea. The tart citrus would metamorphose into a bright, grassy vetiver, very bitter green, and very fresh. Within twenty minutes the vetiver would darken and become rootier, smokier, yielding its verdancy to mysterious myrrh. An hour later, this smoky vetiver would lighten, its roots giving way to sweet myrrh, touched in the end by a lick of lingering bergamot and the cleanest ghost of jasmine.
Had Demachy gone this route, I would be inclined to purchase a bottle. Sadly, things did not go my way. Eau Sauvage Parfum has no top notes to speak of. It careens onto skin, all ingredients accounted for, and smells blob-like: thick, sour, and brownish-green.
Within five minutes, the blob begins to resolve into peripheral renditions of myrrh and vetiver, with the vetiver rapidly taking the fore. And what a gorgeous vetiver it is, so incredibly smoky and deep, with intensification attributable to the persistent myrrh. At this stage the myrrh is not sweet, but burnt-smelling, adding to the fire. It's a very oriental feel, something perfect for a crisp autumn day.
But it doesn't last long enough - after twenty minutes the myrrh withdraws, and leaves naked vetiver, still smelling smoky, but not quite like before. Somewhere in the shadowy cloud are hints of jasmine, very velvety smooth, and just a tiny bit sweet. It's probably Hedione, which was debuted all those years ago in the original version. Ten minutes on, the vetiver has weakened considerably, achieving a brightness that I expected to smell earlier on in this perfume. The culprit is bergamot, now stepping forward to reveal itself as a supporting note! It's a pleasantly bitter citrus, and it twinkles like a green star in the vetiver's twilight.
At the forty-five minute mark the fruit has sweetened, and suddenly the only thing radiating from my skin is a lone myrrh note. It smells a little sweet, a little spicy, a little green, and a little too little. Where's the rest of Eau Sauvage Parfum? This is it? Seventy-five minutes into its evolution, the myrrh proves to be the final straw to this scent's progression, and simply fades into a gauzy white haze.
Eau Sauvage Parfum smells more like an eau de parfum, but I'm nitpicking. In short, this scent is a smoky vetiver/myrrh accord, with just a transitional touch of bergamot lurking under its grey-green cloak. I'm sure it'll be pleasant to wear in October and November, when nature's greens are touched with campfire smoke and the smell of burning leaves, but as a summer fragrance it fails miserably. There's just no way I could wear this on a 95° day in July. I'd rather wear Guerlain Vetiver, or even Grey Vetiver.
Sephora is currently selling Eau Sauvage Parfum, but it's not flying off the shelves. I'm guessing the original will remain more popular, and that' probably for the better.