Diptyque is somewhat low-key compared to most niche perfume houses, despite the many fans who swear by the line's classics. Without much fanfare, some of Diptyque's creations have become iconic examples for compositions that highlight specific notes- Tam Dao is considered by many as an reference sandalwood while Philosykos is a benchmark fig. Now they're trying to do the same with vetiver.
Vetyverio is an odd one. One usually expects a vetiver perfume to be big on green and often quite dry, bitter and grassy, or take an opposite direction and feel dark and swamp-like. Vetyverio is oddly fruity and pulpy for the first half an hour or so. The citrus notes are fruity and round- it's not even a proper citrus opening- it's much sweeter and edible, and I get an almost-fog, almost-peach and almost-apricot. I enjoy it quite a bit, but let's just say I prefer my vetiver to have some teeth. Otherwise, what's the point?
It takes a while for the actual vetiver to show up, and even then it tries to hide behind the the sugar and spice of the fruity and floral notes. I need to actually pay attention, spray a lot and smell it up close to get to the heart of Vetyverio. It's interesting- the vetiver is of the thick and murky kind, but they somehow managed to make it feel sheer and a lot lighter than in perfumes such as Encre Noire or Sycomore. I wish this stage has lasted longer before I'm left with a pale abstract wood covered in a very thin layer of leftover vetiver. The official notes list musk in the dry-down, but I'm most likely completely anosmic to whatever they used here, because I get none. I actually get very little out of Vetyverio past the first hour, and I'm guessing it's because I can't smell an important part of it. It's too bad, really, because the idea of a lush fruity vetiver over musk and wood is quite appealing to me.
Vetyverio by Diptyque ($88, 1.7oz) is available from Aedes, Luckyscent (currently on backorder), Saks and BeautyHabit. The latter has a tempting offer at the moment- 25% off with the code OPRAH.
Art: Still life with apricots by Carol Chambers