When Diptyque dropped Lazulio back in September, I honestly wasn’t rushing to try it. Not because I wasn’t excited, but out of sheer overwhelm by all of the new releases that continue to hit the market (I’ve been “project panning” like the rest of the TikTok girlies, and been intent on using up all of my products before going out and getting new ones). My initial instinct was very much: another rhubarb fragrance? I already have Hermès Eau de Rhubarbe Écarlate, and others that felt like I already have my rhubarb bases covered.
But then a sample landed on my doorstep, and because I’m weak for anything Quentin Bisch touches, I gave it a spray (anything in the name of journalism, right?). Four months later, I’m still thinking about it, which says something, even if it’s not living in my regular rotation.
Lazulio is part of Les Essences by Diptyque, the line inspired by nature’s treasures that you can’t actually smell. This time, the peacock feather. The name comes from lapis lazuli, that gorgeous blue stone that shifts from deep and mysterious to bright and luminous. Perfumer Quentin Bisch (the same genius behind favorites like the wildly popular Delina collection by Parfums de Marly, Carolina Herrera’s Good Girl, and Amouage’s Guidance) built this around rhubarb, vetiver from Haiti, creamy benzoin, and just a touch of rose. So between Bisch, who is known for all hits and no misses, and the artist Nigel Peake, who illustrated the bottle with these delicate peacock motifs that honestly make it almost too pretty to use, I should have already known this would be a hit too, right?
The first thing that hits you is pure, unapologetic rhubarb. This isn’t subtle at all. It’s loud, tart, and genuinely photorealistic. It’s bright and green and juicy in a way that immediately reminded me of Delina, but with less depth and more aggressive tartness. Think of it as Delina if she skipped the floral complexity and went straight for that opening burst of sour fruit.
Why I love it: The performance is insane (and I mean that in the best way possible). I’ve had this since September and it lasts forever. I’m talking hours, to the point where I’ve washed my hands multiple times and still smelled it on my skin. Quentin Bisch never does subtle, and Lazulio is no exception. The opening is what keeps me coming back though. That rhubarb note is so tart and realistic, genuinely gets me every time I spray it. The benzoin keeps it from getting too sharp, and the vetiver adds some depth without fighting with the rhubarb. It all works.
The thing about Lazulio is that it’s incredibly well-made and consistent. The rhubarb stays put for hours (you get warmth from the benzoin, some woody-citrus depth from the vetiver, and a hint of rose that softens everything just enough). It’s straightforward in the best way if you want a reliable rhubarb scent that performs like a beast. But for my personal taste, I like fragrances that shift throughout the day. I’m the person who keeps smelling my wrist all day, waiting for something new to show up, and Lazulio pretty much stays the same from start to finish. That consistency is actually what a lot of people love about certain fragrances—you know exactly what you’re getting, every single time. For me though, I end up reaching for other rhubarb scents in my collection that have more movement and evolution.
Perfect pairings: I’ve had fun playing around with Lazulio mostly because it’s so aggressively rhubarb-forward that it actually layers really well. The most obvious pairing is with Hermès Eau de Rhubarbe Écarlate. Rhubarb on rhubarb sounds like overkill, but it actually creates this really beautiful, sheer freshness that feels like spring in a bottle. The Hermès adds a clean, almost watery quality that makes both fragrances feel more expensive somehow.
Jo Malone Earl Grey & Cucumber is another combo I stumbled into that works surprisingly well. The tea brings out the green in Lazulio’s vetiver, and the cucumber cools down some of that tartness. It’s refreshing without being boring, which is hard to pull off.
If you want to add some depth and warmth, try it with Maison Margiela Replica Matcha Meditation underneath. The creamy matcha plays really nicely with the benzoin in Lazulio’s base, and suddenly you have this cozy, sophisticated thing happening instead of just bright tartness.
One more I’ve been loving: Glossier You as a base layer with Lazulio sprayed over it. The ambrette and iris in You create this soft, skin-like foundation that grounds all that rhubarb brightness.
Final verdict: The bottle is gorgeous, the scent is photorealistic rhubarb done right, and Quentin Bisch did exactly what he set out to do. For me personally, it’s good but not essential. It’s a solid fragrance, just not one I’d choose over what I already have in my collection.
But if you love rhubarb and want something that actually lasts? Definitely worth sampling. This could easily become your signature if you’re into loud, tart scents. Just know you’re committing to hours of straight rhubarb, and if that sounds good to you, Lazulio won’t disappoint.