Diptyque / A Review

Diptyque. The Parisian perfumery with the cryptographic labeling, almost omnipresent in the background of beauty gurus vlogs or whose empty candle containers hold make up brushes in Into the Gloss posts. The only other association I had with Diptyque was “out of my budget,” given the brand charges $65.00 USD for a standard candle.

I’ve been intrigued by scents since I was very young, particularly the intense emotions they can trigger—either actual perfumes (like Anna Sui, worn by my mother at my grandfather’s funeral; amber oil rubbed on my temples and forehead by my favorite yoga teacher at the end of class), or the smells of foods or flowers or places. This obsession has turned into the yearly quest for my own scent.

We wandered into the Diptyque store at the Domain in Austin, Texas after spending time smelling all sorts of overly alcoholic perfumes in the Sephora a few shops down. We bee-lined to the candles and met Tracy, one of the most knowledgeable saleswomen I’ve met in a while. She explained how to actually smell candles, which involved slamming the jars wick-first onto a fabric-covered block so the entire candle slipped out—you then are able to smell the vessel’s interior, revealing a concentrated scent and blocking out other room smells.  I could smell candles for hours. We started with their most common—Roses, Quince, Vanilla, Oak Tree. Tracy and her colleague Branda liked Juniper and Hazel Tree respectively. I didn’t find a candle I fell in love with, but think I’d appreciate Lavender Leaf or maybe Spearmint.

The ladies explained how 3 artists in Paris started Diptyque in 1961; the company released perfumes starting in 1968. Each label and name used to be transcribed by hand, based off of the Cyrillic alphabet and cryptography. Each scent has been assigned its own color scheme as well, used to wrap the products when taken home. Essentially, everything about the brand is carefully thought out. It is truly art, which is lost when Diptyque is only recognized as a "luxury brand." There's a lot more to the story.

Then it happened. I smelled their 2018 perfume release, Fleur de Peau. From the second Tracy started to describe the notes, I knew it would be the one. I’ve never liked strong florals or powdery scents, and while I enjoy vanilla, I don’t like it on my body. Fleur de Peau is technically floral, but is composed of musk, iris, ambretteolide and pink peppercorns.

“In ancient Greece, one myth stood out as the most passionate and sensual: the love between Psyche and Eros, the beauty’s quest to meet with her lover and the happy outcome of their union which led to the birth of their daughter, Hedone... Only one scent can convey this legend as a fragrance, that of musks. Equally legendary, they have the unique ability to enhance the skin with their arousing carnal accents. They are at the very heart of Fleur de Peau, as cottony and light as they are soft and moist. Highlighted with the elegantly powdery iris and fruity, ambery ambrette seeds, they reveal their full tactile dimension.”

I told my sister about my new forbidden love (in a $165.00 USD bottle), and she immediately went on the hunt for a dupe. As it turns out, Fleur de Peau is very close to Glossier You, the scent I had worn for a few months when it first came out. You consists of ambrette, ambrox, musk, iris root and pink pepper. I apparently have a scent profile.  While they both smell delightful, Fleur de Peau is a bit heavier, creamier, and lasts on my skin for a long time. You is brighter, but fades quickly. Both scents smell like clean skin, with a hint of sweetness and a little extra musk.  Since Tracy supplied me with a few testers, I put on Fleur de Peau when I got home. She encouraged I play around with them, which I fully appreciated. The scent enveloped me and I could feel and smell it radiating from my collarbones up towards my face. Usually I don’t even feel as though I can smell my own perfume. Hints of cinnamon came out from where I had applied to my wrist, which was an interesting surprise. 

It’s moments like smelling Fleur de Peau for the first time that remind me how to enjoy the little things. Walking into a perfumery with the intent to explore led me to an afternoon of self discovery, appreciation of a new company and piqued my interest to further explore what it means know a product. Do I need to decide on my signature now, when my body chemistry and olfactory preferences will change? No. Will I be picking up Fleur de Peau and smiling every time I feel its warmth? Certainly.