L'Ombre dans L'Eau Diptyque 1983 Eau de Toilette

While I typically don’t enjoy rose scents, and I never fuck with berry fragrances, Diptyque L’Ombre dans L’Eau is one of the exceptions. Perhaps because the rose only just shyly peeps out of the lush, leafy greenery and aromatic botanicals. The berries are bittersweet and biting, rather than overripe and cloying, and pair marvelously with lemony, herbaceous geranium. It feels practical and beautiful, like an artful object that actually serves a useful function, as opposed to a remaining a dusty shelf-turd. This is the sort of perfume that makes me think of how someone said that self-care is doing the things that maybe you don’t feel like doing now, so that you can set future-you up for success. Like making some sort of wellness appointment. I would wear this to visit the chiropractor and think the whole time, “good job you! You are doing your best!”

L'Ombre dans l'Eau (Shadow in the Water) had been spinning around my head for some time, along with Philosykos Eau de Toilette, and I finally tried it. I had read some reviews before ordering a test sample, most notably the description on Diptyque's official website. The more I read, the more this sour and sour rose tempted me, and I tried to figure the scent out in my mind. Well, I can confirm the perfume left me speechless when I first smelled it. It is not the rose I am used to, which I often encounter in the scents I own or know. I reviewed the Delina Exclusif jammy rose a few days ago, and it is definitely not it. It is something I have never experienced before, a sort of unknown greenness that pleasantly surprised me. Ironically, I can't tell if the perfume was premature when it was created or if they meant it for the future. And I say this because despite being released in the early eighties, the perfume is very modern and avant-garde, so much so that it can be mistaken for a new niche creation. Nothing here stresses the powerhouse of that period in which the opulent Paris Eau de Toilette , Opium (1977) Parfum , Diva Eau de Parfum , or K de Krizia (1980) Eau de Toilette, to name a few, reigned.

I immediately start by saying that the declared keynotes are the floral ones of the dew-soaked rose, which contrast with the fruity ones of the blackcurrant buds and the greener and fresher ones of the petitgrain, all supported by the acidulous nuances of the blackcurrant leaves. Everything else? These few notes create a fresh, summery, and rosy accord that closely resembles the green sap flowing through plants. L'Ombre dans l'Eau evokes the scent of a green garden near the water, and I feel all life pulsating within this essence. Somehow, L'Ombre dans L'Eau captures something of the fresh pleasure of a deep breath of natural outside air better than anything I've smelled so far. Until now, when I approached a green family scent, I felt the notes of foliage, branches, shrubs, and reeds, for example, those of bamboo, figs, tomatoes, galbanum, or ivy, but I had smelled nothing of so close to the lifeblood.

L’Ombre dans l’Eau has an incisive and pungent opening, vivid, full of tartness, and even a little astringent. I dare say, polarising and unwelcome to a large audience. For a few seconds, an accord develops on my skin that reminds me of the green intensity that the peel of the slightly unripe pomegranate gives off when it is cut to extract the precious ruby juicy grains. There is a watery side, but not like cucumber slices, and an earthy side, but not quite like vetiver roots. Instead, a smell that recalls the soaked soil after a storm. All this green freshness comes from the leaves of the black currant, from the smell of the brushed and broken leaves, with a note of bitter citrus given by the citrus leaves, the petitgrain. In some ways, this pungent aspect also reminds me of the unmistakable smell of tomato leaves, but that of unripe pomegranate seeds is more likely for my sense of smell.

In the heart, the flowery aspects of the rose stand out, slowly emerging without dominating or overwhelming the other notes. It does not claim to be a soliflores rose, but it is as if the leaves and fruits of the black currant were in my hands while the wild rose bushes were much further away from me and their scent reached me carried by a light breeze. These aren't just the fragrant petals that make up the central part. The aqueous shades of the freesia buds and the slightly bitter ones of the narcissus are clear to me, although only Bulgarian rose and black currant berries are listed. Besides the watery and dewy aspects, the blackcurrant leaves' herbaceousness, the fruity, sour accents, and the floral intensity of the rose, on the other, pop up clearly. The berries aren't too fruity, but they lean on the wet, green scent of the leaves. If I put my nose on my skin, I also feel a lemony and pungent tinge that recalls the smell of coriander leaves or its seeds crushed between my fingers, a spicy flavour I love to meet in Indian cuisine.

These notes and chords brought up so far lie against a musky background of ambergris and musk, which makes for an attractive scent as the rose continues to dominate, and some subtle hints of warm amber sweetness manifest. Ambergris and musk provide a touch of salty, sweet and warm, at first, a pleasant contrast to the fresh outdoor smells of the rest of the ingredients. Moss does not take over and is not animalic but softens and strengthens the dewy rose. There is a hint of coumarin, but it only gives a powdery sense without making the fragrance too sweet, spicy, or gourmand.

You won't detect even the tiniest trace of dust in this perfume if you don't like powdery undertones in perfumes. Hence, the fragrance is undoubtedly perfect for wearing on hot days; spring and summer months seem appropriate. As it is not aggressive, I think it is safe for the office and a lazy weekend at home or out of town. Not a noble beast from a longevity standpoint, but it projects well in the early hours with a good sillage, and that's okay with me. Did L’Ombre dans l’Eau disappoint me? Not, indeed.

I base my opinion and review on a decant I have owned since October 2022.

-Elysium

This must have been a groundbreaking fragrance when it came out in 1983. I can sense traces of L'Ombre dans L'Eau in so many newer scents, from classics like Jo Malone Blackberry & Bay or YSL In Love Again to more recent niche offerings like LM Kingkydise, Victoria Minya Cassis or Linari Capelli D'Oro. The scent profile still feels fresh and modern after all these years, unlike most other releases from the 80s.

In the opening the fact that this is an older fragrance is the most apparent. It has a grassy-green floral note that definitely reads as "vintagey" to me, which is honestly not my favorite thing in fragrances.
But this part is gone soon, and then we're left with dewy roses, tart, juicy blackcurrant, a creamy, musky base and a soft hint of greenery. This kind of scent always conjures the colors pink and dark green in my mind. In this case, it's a darker, richer pink that borders on burgundy, while most of the similar fragrances I mentioned above feel more hot pink to me. Why is L'Ombre dans L'Eau darker? Well, even though nothing like that is listed, it has a slightly smokey undertone, like a curl of incense in the fruity floral scent. And maybe the absence of other fruits besides the blackcurrant also plays a role in this. It's a refreshing scent that has just enough sweetness to keep it from going unpleasantly sour, but still feels a little mouth-puckering, like an unsweetened currant would.

There are some other, more playful fragrances in this genre that fit my style a little better, but I still really enjoyed testing this and respect the art behind it. I also noticed it shines on warm skin. Perfect for a hot, humid summer day right before it finally starts to rain. If you like rose/cassis combos, you should really try it, even if it's only to get to know the original that started it all.

Diptyque L'OMBRE DANS L'EAU opens with a ferny feeling and then suddenly a rosebush pops up out of nowhere. After a couple of minutes, though, the “fern” note, which I believe is angelica, given its behavior—takes over the composition completely, shrouding the rose in relative obscurity. I've learned through a few niche testings that angelica is really not a note that works well for me. Perhaps I am extra-sensitive to the point of finding even a modest dose excessive. Whatever the case may be, L'OMBRE DANS L'EAU ends up being yet another (quasi-)angelica-focused niche offering that I really cannot see myself wearing much. I own the solid compact of this perfume, which unfortunately offers an even stronger presentation of the fernish angelica (or reasonable facsimile) note and while it does not make me ill, neither is it a perfume that I would reach for before, say, 200+ others.

This was a bad blind buy on my part, a gamble based on the entirely arbitrary fact that Diptyque has chosen to offer only a few of its perfumes in solid form, all of which I decided to acquire as a part of my quest to expand my understanding of that much-neglected medium. Maybe if I wear L'OMBRE DANS L'EAU enough I'll develop a tolerance to this hyper-super-ueber-fernishness. On ne sait jamais. Hope springs eternal, and sundry other hackneyed clichés, not to mention pleonasms and, yes, redundancies!!!!!

This is simply delightful. Jammy tart blackcurrant and rose bushes. A slight lemony citrus from petitgrain. It's sweeter than I was expecting. Some people here are reporting sharp and bitter notes. I get none of that save for in the first two minutes of spraying where there is a strong waft of herbaceous greenery. Not at all unpleasant. It has surprisingly good sillage, the kind that you get gentle wafts of but doesn't overpower. I can see myself wearing this often.

Many will disagree, but to me this comes off like the classier and more naturalistic version of La Fille De Berlin. Except that this has a fruitiness from blackcurrant that creates the jammy quality, and no metallic edge to speak of. It's certainly a quieter, less "bright" scent than La Fille. Still jammy, and has that dark rose vibe. They don't share the same notes, so this could be controversial but I do see them as being almost unruly little sister and sophisticated big sister.

I really can't believe this was first marketed in 1983, it really strikes me as ahead of it's time. And worn by the goddess herself, Lauren Bacall.