Mark, the younger label owned by Avon have attracted my attention with the concept of a white vetiver as well as the promised accord of "ultra-femme tuberose" with "smoky vetiver" They say that the perfume is "A blend of unexpected contrasts. A dark, smoky vetiver vibe merges with intimate notes of ultra-femme white tuberose for the mark. girl who loves to embrace what’s different and daring." Unfortunately even a sympathetic soul as I am to mass-market perfume which can give us near-perfect perfumes like Cardin Choc is not amused by this recent concoction. This is, alas, mass-market fragrance at its blandest and worst...
White Vetiver is a tuberose perfume in the lineage of Fracas by Piguet. There are slightly dewy notes, the orange is thinner and more sparkling, more Fanta soda than orange cream icicle as in the original. After a while the rubbery, tropical facet of tuberose emerges more. As the vetiver enters it starts smelling like Eau de Javel. I doubt that Mark went for a Javel-fiend-pandering accord, but it certainly helps to create the sensation of a vetiver note which is not only "white" but bleached. Who knows? Maybe bleach is the new white musk. The bleach accord moves in the direction of chlorinated pool and this makes more sense if we think affective memories. Just like gas, this is one of those unhealthy smells that many people are attached to.
While for a second you thought you were going to get spicy pepper in the mix, the tuberose in Mark White Vetiver stays safely outside of even the minimum of controversy. This is not going to feel "too spicy." Instead, vetiver, quite pale and phantomatic, serves as substitute spice, a little like you might be tempted to use hay instead of salt if you ran out of anything truly aromatic around you, but still wanted to add a kick to your meal.
Honestly, White Vetiver is hum-drum. The idea sounded great a priori but in the end, White Vetiver is a just a very pale and wispy echo of Fracas dying in the distance, far far way. After it's left, there are only the faint smells of burnt rubber on the cement.
The whole execution is poor quality, both singularly lacking in ideas and means. Ah, well, you can always feast your eyes on Ashley Greene and her dazzingly white pants. That's what she's there for.
Notes: Black plum, Italian mandarin, pink peppercorn, Tuberose noir, jasmine petals, dark cocoa beans, Haitian vetiver, Indonesian patchouli, and Georgywood®