I adore vetiver. I love neroli. But I don’t like this. Granted, the not unpleasant, semi-sexy fig musk of the basilic base has a vaguely beguiling, après-tennis drink in the sports bar vibe – you wouldn’t necessarily move to another seat — but Nerolia Vetiver, an inessential, lite summer fragrance – doesn’t smell of vetiver, nor particularly of neroli, for that matter; the weird segue from the creamy orange blossom freshness of the opening, to some kind of fake lilac bathroom spray heartnote, headache-inducing ; blousy.