Sable Yong on the Cult of the Bath with Diptyque

The Reset Edit turns its attention to the in-between, chronicling the rituals fashion and culture insiders rely on to recharge amid the demands of their craft. For the first installment, beauty columnist Sable Yong ventured upstate with Diptyque to experience Les Rituels de Soin, the Maison’s new body care collection, through long soaks, somatic sound, and some unexpectedly trippy breathwork.

A reset can usually happen in one of two ways: you decide to take a break, or the universe decides when to make you take one. I have tried the latter, and I can say from personal experience, um, don’t do that. I’ve never been great at planning breaks (there’s always something that needs doing), but luckily for me, Diptyque invited me upstate for an idyllic retreat at the Pocketbook Hotel in Hudson. For the uninitiated, the Pocketbook Hotel’s main draw is its bathhouse, the perfect atmosphere to introduce Diptyque’s new bath and body collection, Les Rituels de Soin. The collection is a robust and elegantly persuasive argument for going do-not-disturb: a cleansing gel, a body scrub, a milky lotion, body butter, two body oils, and a set of bath accessories including a body-sized ceramic gua sha, sea sponge, and copper-bristled dry body brush, paired off in their own designated rituals.

Pre-bathhouse visit, I’d be remiss not to mention the Pocketbook’s fabulous in-room bathtubs, situated behind the bed. Too many modern hotels have shower stalls or shower areas in lieu of a bathtub, and I find that deeply tragic and not a luxurious experience at all. So when I’m staying at a hotel with the bathtub as a main feature of the room, I know exactly what my evening plans will entail. 

Plus, when you’re on the Diptyque bathing retreat, what better way to get acquainted with the entirety of Les Rituels de Soin whilst in the privacy of my own sleek, stainless steel soaking tub? Soaking in a stainless steel brutalist vessel does feel a bit like I’m making a soup out of myself in an oversized restaurant service sink. Shifting the ambiance by lighting Diptyque’s Le Soir candle and adding a bit of Gelée Lavante Bienfaisante under running water, beautifully lathering against my skin, made the experience much more sensorial bliss than broth. A leisurely, hot bath before bed is my favorite sleeping pill. And then slathering myself in the barley and rose-scented Rich Soothing Body Balm, followed by a layer of the sweet almond and hazelnut-scented Relaxing Body Oil-In-Oil made my skin insanely soft, not to mention smelling incredible. 

But the in-room tub was just a little taste of the evening’s main attraction: the bathhouse. We had double the relaxation with a guided sound bath paired with collection exploration for our evening ritual, performed by George MacPherson of Sound of the Times. The cavernous brick loft was the perfect arena for gongs and large, mallet-based tube instruments — excellent resonance. The scent of Diptyque’s Le Soir candle perfumed the air and added cozy ambient lighting alongside the pools’ aqua ripples reflecting on the ceiling. With all five senses indulged, I could fully melt into the ritual. After a post-soundbath soak, I reached for the Relaxing Oil-in-oil again. It really didn’t take long for its scent to imprint on me; I’m a sucker for any sort of musky, vanilla, hazelnut scent profile.) Its aroma is distinctively creamier and more lactonic than Le Soir’s chamomile and sage blend, but together they’re doubly comforting and enveloping. 

George also led the group in a guided breathwork session the next morning, which, if you’ve never experienced it, is a trip. Le Matin candles were lit in a ceremonious circle in the center of the room. Lying down on plush linen mats would’ve put me right back to sleep, but inhaling its herbaceous, zesty scent was a welcome aroma for my groggy brain. Who knew you could get a high from breathing vigorously in rhythmic succession for an hour? (George did.) My limbs were tingling, and by the end of it, I felt as if I’d just downed a double espresso. 

Our breathwork and soundbath shepard reminded us that “ritual is habit with intention.” Breathing might be a habit, but breathwork makes it a ritual. Hygiene practices are a habit, but making the time for a proper soak with bathing accouterments selected for their sensorial enjoyment as well as their function makes it a ritual. 

The whole Les Rituels De Soin collection features new Diptyque scents throughout its two rituels: Le Matin and Le Soir (the morning and the evening, of course). I am admittedly not an early bird, but I am very much a fiend for scents. Some people say they have sensitive noses — I prefer to call mine discerning. The smell of Le Matin’s zesty vegetal candle could convince me to rise in time to see the sun’s complete arc. It’s invigorating in a giddy way, like a back-to-school feeling that’s actually exciting because you get to wear your new clothes and see your old friends again. The Le Soir candle has a grounding, herbaceous aroma that feels like the hearth of a (benevolent) witch’s cabin in the French countryside. It’s comforting in a sensuous way — the kind of scent that beckons a long goodnight.  

It’s always baffling to me how one night out of town, in a different environment, experiencing novel things, will reinvigorate the mind. My sense of time stretched luxuriously for what felt like much longer than a mere 28 hours away. I returned to the city having undergone a full factory reboot, ready to take in the exciting chaos that comes every September, while also making a mental note to plan more retreats to places with impressive baths (or to finally re-caulk my tub at home so I’ll actually take more baths).  

Too often we approach intentional offline time as a sentence involving deprivation, rather than an indulgence in the sensorial pleasure of the present. I’d long had this perception of ritual as another way to say chore, an arbitrary practice for some abstract sense of betterment. Bricking my phone and setting myself on finishing that big book that’s been collecting dust on my nightstand sounds a bit like homework, even though this is something I want to do. 

I think any proper reset must be removed from a specific desired outcome, or else it doesn’t quite work as well because your focus is on an expectation of the experience rather than the experience itself. Getting out of town helps — you don’t have your usual distractions at hand. So does an experienced meditation leader. But in the absence of certain amenities, there’s always the bath. New York City real estate can lack imagination with its bathrooms, but even my brief nightly showers can be made into rituals with indulgent scents, textures, and even body care tools that completely overhaul the concept of an “everyday shower.” It might call for more time, but I think I gain a lot more from what it gives back to me. 

Click here to discover the collection.