La Treizieme Heure XIII

You know that feeling, when everyone else around you are laughing but you cannot even force a chuckle because you don't know what's funny and you get this overwhelming feeling like you've missed something? When some event, person, or whatnot clogs up your news feed, everyone you know seems to be talking about it, and you try to keep up and get informed but you just don't understand what everyone is going-on about? If you're at all familiar with this feeling, you then know what's going through my mind when I first smelled XIII. I intentionally try not to read too many peoples' thoughts on notes, performance, and such, before trying a perfume so I can go through the mental exercise of trying to figure it out for myself without bias - so, all I read about XIII is that it's one of the best/favorites of the Cartier Les Heures line. So here I am in the first few minutes of the perfume, very confused, but then fast forward by nearly 45min and I realize that might be an intentional effect since this perfume seems to be a shape shifter - or at least it's behaving that way on my skin. When I first sprayed myself, back of my hands, inside forearms, and neck, I was greeted with this loud, slightly sharp, hissy, chemical and medicinal, camphoraceous, and sort-of petroleum or rubbery note. My eyebrows furl and I'm asking myself, "What the *! is that??" By the time I think I've figured it out... it's gone, disappears like light after the switch is flipped to off, and I'm lost again. All that remains is a very clean musk type accord that is extremely close to the skin. Then, I wonder if I got a bad sample. Many minutes go by and nothing happens, so I reapply a bit more to my right arm. Bam! That weird top note strikes again, and it sticks around only just long enough for me to put my finger on it: it is probably the strangest black tea note I have ever smelled. I'm not a tea expert by any means; it's not my thing, I have precious little experience with teas. Perhaps I need to change that; XIII is definitely making me think so. The reapplication was the right call, but I'll be paying for it later (read on). As I mentioned, it took about 45 minutes before I really began to see what XIII does. The tea note dies down, and the clean musk note becomes even more apparent (obviously because of my reapplication) and I finally recognize what I thought was musk is a white floral note that is all indoles and no floral. Only minutes later does this perfume really begin to bloom, and I do mean bloom in the way that smoke suddenly starts billowing from your oven. That simile is meant mostly to be visual because, while XIII does have a smoky element, it's not a run-out-of-the-house or find-the-fire-extinguisher smoky element. This blooming stage of XIII is characterized by a birch tar and leather accord. Both of these do/can frequently come across as no different from the other, but Mathilde Laurent keeps them distinguishable: there is a definite birch tar note that is refined, and exceptionally smooth, like the cleanest lingering smoke and ash of a white-wood fire that you could possibly smell; the leather note is soft, well-worn, animalic, refined, smooth, and plush. It's extremely addictive to find these notes - for once, since it seems to be very rare - so tame yet no-less confident than we find them in most other perfumes that showcase them. Within 90 minutes the patchouli and vanilla have also joined in, but, they aren't party crashers, they're invited guests and keep to the mandate previously ascribed to the birch and leather: refined, unobtrusive and smooth, gently adding a fresh earth, slightly gourmand, and slightly sweet quality. Now, at this point, since I got a little overzealous with the application, I have to freely admit that XIII is a bit loud in its projection and sillage, and getting louder as time goes on. But, despite me having screwed up, it never starts shouting at me. The way Mathilde Laurent has handled the materials in this perfume is remarkable and exceptional. These are loud and brash materials (typically), but Laurent is an expert lion tamer and she shows that she is fully capable of keeping these beasts docile and in-line to where the lions act like regal house cats purring and gracefully slinking around. She walks each lion through the different acts, and gives you a remarkable show of her skills and just how beautiful they can be. XIII took me on a mental and emotional journey, from bewildered and shocked, to weak-at-the-knees and fully captivated. What a fantastic perfume.

La Treizieme Heure XIII is perhaps the most 'remote' fragrance I own. Resolute in its distance, its distant birch smolder and herbaceous wafts elude me. It's like when the person you most admire is the one that is the most aloof to your advances, pulling you in, yet ever retreating as you reach out. Yet none of this disappoints me—maybe its just a bit of masochism, but its almost holographic nature is irresistible. I can't decide of there is hay-scented suede or suede-scented hay here. My mind can't quite conjure up clear images as I sniff: a mate reads as tea, tobacco, and bittersweet grasses all at once; eminently agrestic in feel, growing more like pine-smoked Lapsang Souchong over time. Even a soft, dry vanilla doesn't harness this enigmatic scent, as it remains an ashy birch leather just out of focus, with just the slightest pungency nibbling at my nostrils. This fooled me into thinking it was some gossamer wisp on its first and second wear, but then by the third year, it clicked. Magic made itself known. More sensible fragrance wearers would wonder why it would be even worth it to take that long to "get" it, but does an action movie fan have the patience for Godard? I almost want to say this epitomizes quiet luxury, but somehow that ends up coming off as trite. Nonetheless, I said it. However, I will also say, with unmitigated conviction, that this solidifies my belief that Mathilde Laurent is an underrated genius.

I had no preconceptions abut what to expect, but was still surprised to find that this started out with massive amounts of castoreum, a sandalwood-type base like javanol, and something similar to carnation and/or cloves, or maybe guaiacol. It’s just a little smoky, but in a subtle way. After reading reviews of this scent, I know that I’m supposed to put the castoreum and smoky birch tar together to come up with leather, but for me that just doesn’t happen automatically. Even if it did, it would be a very raw, animalic leather. No one mentions the quasi-sandalwood base, which, for me, is the single dominant note after the initial castoreum blast is finished. As it dries down, the cloves subside into the background as does the “leather”, so what remains is a vanilla-flavored sandalwood-y scent. Then the bergamot hits, with a little citrusy riff on top of the woods. I do not smell any patchouli in the mix until a couple of hours in, and then it just forms part of a base that reminds me of Guerlain’s Samsara. Sillage is fairly strong in the beginning, but diminishes to a skin scent after 2-3 hours. At no point does this remind me of tea, maté or otherwise. Being a big fan of woody notes in the sandalwood family and leather notes, I like Heure No. 13 a lot.

Like many of us frag-heads, I always characterize fragrances as people. I personify them in my head. La Treizieme Heure (The Thirteenth Hour) is as the name implies. It’s dark, mysterious, daring, yet has a soft side. I see her (him if you want) as woman who is like all of us; inherently flawed. Upon meeting her at first she stares at you like “what? What do you want do I know you?!” And according you recoil like oh my goodness Im sorry did I offend you? What’s her problem? Im just saying hello. Im just being nice. And then she understands you don’t mean harm and you too chit chat get to know each other a bit get formally introduced and then she warms up to you in vanilla. She’s beautiful because she isn’t perfect. She is real. She is human. This fragrance smells human. She’s niche. Obviously not blind but safe. No human is 😜🤪 court her; beware.

The leather hour is one of my favorite leathers. It’s a crowded place with legends and icons on every corner - Jolie Madame, Knize 10, Bandit, Cuir Cannage, Bel Ami, Fetish, 1740 etc... It takes guts to book a place on that street, and excellence to remain a permanent resident. Mathilde Laurent knows that doing the right thing is the right thing to do. No compromises. And this is one of the reasons I cherish and admire XIII and her L’Heures as a whole. (Especially the chemical hour which is simply the greatest perfume in recent memory) La Treizieme Heure starts ambery and weirdly lipsticky, but soon the leather accord crashes through - it appears civilized at first, but it’s just a pose. The leather here is the fine one, luxurious, Cartier-style, it’s fresh, smoky and surprisingly chocolaty and oh yes, suggestively animalic. *****