The Story
Why it exists.
The beginning
Some formulas announce themselves. Vigour doesn't. Corey Newcombe had been exploring fougère ideas at Criminal Elements for a while, releasing striking compositions like Tobacco Jam and Neon along the way. But the fougère, the old French fern, kept pulling at his attention. It's been done a thousand times. Done well a hundred. So in 2019 he finally decided to put his own spin on the category, not by reinventing it but by stripping it back. Less is more, except when the bottle runs low. That line lands harder when you understand what Vigour actually is: a deliberate exercise in restraint. The composition opens with bergamot and grapefruit alongside French lavender absolute, then settles into Haitian vetiver at the heart, and finishes on a light dusting of French oakmoss.
The architecture is almost mathematical in its economy. Bergamot, grapefruit, and French lavender absolute up top, bright and aromatic, the usual fougère handshake. Then Haitian vetiver in the heart, rooty and serious, grounding the whole thing before it can float away. And just a dusting of French oakmoss in the base, the barbershop floor swept clean. No florals, no spices, no sweetness sneaking in from the wings. The vetiver carries that earthy weight without tipping into the smoky territory that heavier roots can reach, reading more rain-soaked soil than char.
The evolution
The opening belongs to citrus. Grapefruit and bergamot arrive together, bright and just slightly bitter at the edges, sharp enough to cut through but not sharp enough to sting. The lavender absolute joins shortly, not the herbal, kitchen-cupboard kind but the floral absolute, softened, almost creamy in texture against the sharper citrus. Then the vetiver takes the wheel and the citrus steps politely aside. This is the longest phase, with that rooty, rain-soaked earth tone that vetiver does best when it's not fighting for space. The transition is unhurried, the way a good conversation turns from pleasantries to something real. The oakmoss shows up late and quiet, a dry, mossy floor note that never really announces itself but warms the whole composition from underneath. By the later hours you're mostly smelling vetiver and skin, the kind of scent that feels like it grew there.
Cultural impact
Vigour sits comfortably in the niche corner of perfumery, the kind of release that finds its audience through indie fragrance communities and word-of-mouth rather than mass marketing. It appeals to wearers who want barbershop without the usual baggage, and fougère without the decade-old associations. Some wearers compare it to Dior Eau Savage Parfum without the elemi resin, which tracks. The composition reads almost quiet against louder contemporary releases, even austere, and that restraint seems to be exactly what draws people in. It's the kind of scent people discover in indie fragrance groups and quietly keep in rotation.
The House
Criminal ElementsCriminal Elements is an Australian indie perfume house that crafts small‑batch scents from a modest studio in South Australia. Founded by perfumer Corey Newcombe, the brand blends unconventional raw materials with a laboratory‑like precision, delivering fragrances that feel more like experiments than marketing slogans. Their catalogue ranges from the smoky jam of Tobacco Jam (2016) to the bright, neon‑hued Neon (2020), each bottle promising a distinct olfactory story.
The Creator
Corey NewcombeCorey favors a high‑contrast palette: bright metallics, sharp aldehydes, and dense, resinous woods. He often begins with a synthetic anchor—copper, zinc, or a metallic ion—and builds outward with natural notes like smoked pine, dried herbs, or fermented fruit.
