L'Eau Trois
Diptyque (1975)

Most of the older Diptyques smell like ancient medicinal salves made out of crushing various barks, spices, and unguents down into a fiery yellow paste and applied to an open wound (Eau Lente, L’ Eau). L’ Eau Trois flips the trope a little, taking it outside to the sunburnt hillsides of Greece or Southern France where the healer combs up tufts of wild rosemary, pine needles, and mastic from the maquis, and uses his cocaine fingernail to dig out sticky yellow globules of myrrh and pine sap from ancient, shrubby trees bent over with age and wind, before singeing it all over a fire so that greenery takes on a burnt, bitter flavor, and mashing it all down to a paste in a pestle and mortar.

Smoky, wild, and herbaceous, L’Eau Trois this is myrrh at its most confrontational. It smells of incense, yes, but also of bitter greenery that will either kill you or cure you if ingested. Less like a perfume than something born of the bowels of the earth.

My absolute favorite from Diptyque.

This is an olibanum resinoid overdose with a healthy helping of myrrh, and the smell of not only pine sap but of pine needles both fresh and the desiccated fallen ones on the forest floor. My nose detects the rosemary, myrtle and caraway that add dimension; all great complements to the olibanum and myrrh.

It is the olfactory embodiment of crepuscule in the woods, solemn, sacred, and divine. A stirring creation.

Many speculate of the name of this fragrance, that means "Water Three" in English. There's no real mystery here, though: it is simply the third fragrance that Diptyque issued. I tried it ~2yrs ago on the skin after a visit in a Diptyque store in Paris, and remained so impressed that I kept it on my wishlist for all that time, even if my precise memory faded out a bit. So, when I spotted a great deal and ordered it recently, it was a half blind buy and I was a bit nervous.

Opens with a blast of spiced aromatic/balsamic notes (an impression of rosemary/oregano given by myrrh and spices I guess). Then the spices tone down a bit to leave the front stage for the myrrh to shine, but are still very present (probably caraway and/or cumin, possibly some cloves and/or allspice), and at that stage, it vaguely reminds me of Goutal Ambre Fetiche.
The myrrh will dance during the whole drydown, back and forth, with a very dry dusty (non-smoky) olibanum resinoids note (with a blackpepper facet, but not a sharp blackpepper like in Bois d'Encens) and the ladbanum that will envelop the whole creation with its resinous greeness. While I have an issue with SL Ambre Sultan's bay leaf note, I love it in Guerlain Bois Mysterieux. Same for the oregano/rosemary note, that I struggle with in Amouage Interlude, but love in PM Or Black. Here, it's all an interplay, perfectly tailored, and I love it! Performance is nothing exceptional, nor nothing to complain about, as expected for an EDT.

Like a previous reviewer stated, the quest for the perfect incense will never end. That said, for me, it might have with this one (and Tauer Incense Extreme). On par with Trudon Mortel in terms of style and quality (but Diptyque has slightly better performance).
To note that this one has been issued ~30 years before the trend of incense-centered fragrance was started by CdG...
Whaaaat a journey! Masterpiece by Serge Kalouguine.

Highly recommended (but liking aromatics and spices is a must to enjoy this one).
Colder days, 25+, unisex

A balsamic pomander at take-off paves the way to a frankincense flavoured with rosemary and cistus, very pleasant.

Cool, herbal opening with oregano, myrtle, pine, rosemary and camphor. In the past when I've worn this, the slightly too herbal opening would transition to a lovely, holy grail pine straw and sap scent with a quietly smoky resinous base. L'Eau Trois made it on to my wishlist as the perfect scent of sun heating pinestraw on a hot summer day - a nostalgic trip to my childhood in Georgia.

Trying it again after a long haitus, I've found that there's much more of a metallic note and the oregano is dominant. It's not wearably herbal, just reminiscent of pizza sauce. I've changed medications and diets, so maybe L'Eau Trois no longer favors my skin chemistry. Such a shame, but perhaps it's a good thing to no longer pine after a discontinued gem.

A beautiful, strange smell but totally unwearable as a personal fragrance. I was entranced with it when I smelled it at the SF Diptyque and bought a bottle but now spray it around the room trying to use it up. Extremely dusty, musty and gray ashy thing similar to a Versailles Pour Homme stripped of its Frenchness. Problem is that it doesn't project or have substantial enough base notes to go anywhere. It lingers close to the skin and lasts a surprising while, but at length it is just too creepy to live with on the body.

I'm in love for Diptyque L'Eau Trois since this naif fragrance plays a powerful evocative effect on me, conjuring me actually (at least for a part of its run) the unique (medicinal-laundry-soapy) aroma you can catch in the Hotel's wiped rooms and along the lobbies (so many feelings and flashbacks about the holidays with family back in my childhood). The typically (classically) soapy-neutral chypre aroma is by soon indeed aldehydic-hesperidic and angular-medicinal, aromatic and herbal, spicy-resinous and slighly soapy. There is an harsh-dry grass (or toasted tobacco) like bitter undertone (a sort of licorice-raw brown sugar feel probably provided by oregano-rosemary in their wonderful connection with laurel, myrtle oil, resins and thyme) which I feel on skin and that cuts (as a bitter breaking point) the main "toiletries-like" mild-aromatic-soapy vibe. I detect by soon aromatic lavender, bergamot, aldehydes, fir resins, cinnamon-cloves, something camphoraceous, oakmoss, jasmine and a sort of subtle animalic presence joined with a waxy-resinous-balmy backbone (with vague conjurations about scents a la Cabochard by Gres, Bogue MAAI, Creed Acier Alluminium and Vero Profumo Mito). All the evolution towards the mossy-resinous-waxy soapiness is escorted by an almost balsamic feel, an heady spicy jasmine and by a constant bitter undertone. The dry down is classically hesperidic-chypre, mossy, minty and divinely retro. Persistent on my skin. High class on skin.

Genre: Leather

Well, it's not run-of-the-mill, that's for sure! I get tart citrus and celery in the aromatic opening, soon underpinned by dry woods (perhaps cedar) and a distinct resinous conifer note. There's also a lot of rosemary in this blend, and this gives the herbal accord a decidedly culinary twist.

Unfortunately, I must be seriously anosmic to something in this fragrance, since the next thing I know it's disappeared on me. In fact, I almost have to disqualify myself from reviewing L'Eau Trois since I catch so little of it. A very faint celery note lingers on my skin for an hour or so, and that's as much as I get.

Eau Trois opens with a bold, metallic-camphor ultra-spicy accord of cinnamon, cloves, aldehydes, thick aromatic woods, some flowers I can not detect further (perhaps jasmine, lavender), earthy-stale notes like tree moss and an overall dark, dense, animalic and almost indolic feel. Which together with the aldehydes and the camphor-spicy vibe creates a severe, carnal, overwhelming "old dirty chypre" mood. Benzoin, olibanum, a roasty, smoky incense note, a hint of liquorice and resinous, heavy pine tree notes complete the composition. Much balsamic and medicinal with a palpable "doom" all around, threatening and naughty. A bit outdated to be honest, but fascinating - just for the record, I almost never consider scents "outdated", as actually most of the fragrances I use and enjoy are vintage: by "outdated" I simply mean you instantly recognize this was made several years ago, to please a certain target of people which today does not exist anymore, and sadly, it basically has not much to appeal other targets. Still, it's fascinating for the same reason - it's a trip into your old aunt's closet. After a while it emerges more clearly the olibanum-incense accord, resinous, dusty, grey and dense, with several nuances, from medicinal to edible, much spicy too. The complexity of the incense-spicy-balsamic accord reminds me of Casbah by Piguet, just more realistic. Overall a bit cloying and as I said, but interesting and worth a try.

7/10

Holy grail material.

When I was younger, I would spend my summers on my grandparents' Texas ranch. The midday heat was something else. Dry, sparse rugged vegetation, sunbaked brown dirt. L'Eau Trois reminds me so much of my experiences then exploring.
The first 30 minutes are nothing but bitterly dry resins, herbs, and dirt. I am instantly taken back. It is the smell of that dry Texas outdoors I loved. Slowly the frankincense resin oil (I get tons--almost to the point of pure EO) and smouldering myrrh makes its appearance (and main appearance) giving the fragrance added substance. This smell holds for the duration of the scent.

L'Eau Trois is at once centering, calm, masculine, conforming, and dry. I've never smelled anything like it. In fact, it's slowly replaced my Yatagan and Timbutku for what I tend to naturally grab to wear daily because it's so comfortable. Not to mention L'Eau Trois has also become my favorite incense scent out of all (well, tied with MdM)--this makes Avignon seem dainty.

Longevity is superb--I can even smell this after a shower.

Lovers of dry, dusty, incense smells need to sample this.

L' Eau Trois is one of my absolute favorite myrrh/frankinsence/herbal scents, I've worn it for years. What I adore about it, is the wonderful warm ambery drydown, it has moderate sillage and great staying power, I smell it 12 hours later on skin.
It is quite unisex to my nose, and at times I mix it with L' Artisan's Patchouli Patch if I want a more sexy edgy vibe.

I've to apologize with anyone who loves L'Eau Trois but I don't get it. To me it's (almost) all about rosemary, pine and oregano with a tenacious citrusy note. Myrrh and frankincense are sort of restrained and toned down to my humble nose. Surely unique but I don't like it (I beg you pardon).