Les Heures de Cartier: L'Heure Perdue XI

I find it hilarious that very few people actually tell you what this smells like. Even perfume website and forum admins seem to have given up. Most people stick to abstraction, which is fair because this perfume is all about abstraction. You only need to look so far as the name: the lost hour. How do you capture lost time in a fragrance? To me, this is less about reflecting upon lost opportunity and more like the feeling you get from amnesia. Mathilde Laurent sticks purely to synthetics for this perfume to hammer home the feeling that something unnatural has happened, something just doesn’t feel right; you’re not alarmed, but something happened and you don’t what, or what time-slot it fell into. Thanks to big doses of vanillin, ionones, and cinnamon phenyls, you can, if you shut the subjective part of your brain off for a minute, pull some facets of some very familiar characters - but again, just not how you remember them. Maybe this is dementia or Alzheimers, then? Do me a favor, go to your kitchen pantry and pull out some vanilla extract, or vanilla bean paste would be better if you have it. Take a big whiff. Now imagine that vanilla from your pantry stripped of all sugar and the sweet top-soil like earthiness. In the absence of sugar and earthiness, what your mind should be telling you that’s left is the vanilla bean’s actual body - the bitter plant fibers that make the bean and the pigments that give it its color. It will smell like the plant it actually is. What you then have is the vanilla you get in Perdue. Finally, do the same thing for the cinnamon in your pantry. Smell that layer that just hangs on the surface of the cinnamon? It’s a bit peppery, without making you want to sneeze; it’s woody, but not in the way most woods are because in cinnamon it’s extremely dry? Basically you should be smelling the high and airy woody notes of cinnamon and not the deep and earthy notes of cinnamon. Those characteristics you pick up are the phenyls of cinnamon alcohols, cinnamon aldehydes, and woody ionones used in Perdue. Again, imagine you have dementia/Alzheimers to the point where you smell vanilla and cinnamon, you mostly recognize them, but one half of your brain says you don’t recognize them while the other half does. This is Mathilde Laurent’s brilliant trick with Perdue. Et voila, the inspiration for Perdue: something was lost, it’s recognizable, but the uncertainty is unshakable. You’re welcome. But I can’t leave it there. Being so reductive with a perfume like Perdue is unfair because the tricks of the synthetics are just part of the story. Ms. Laurent’s deft and brilliant blending hand is the other part. How she brings these unnatural and mind-warping characters together is superb. I would love to ask her more about these materials and how she handled them, mainly to understand the perfume’s opening. For context, this perfume is straightforward and monodimensional in the traditional sense; there aren’t clear top, heart, and base notes, and dry downs as such. But something certainly happens in the opening. There is an aldehyde blast that immediately grabs the wearer's attention. They are not the sparkling and shimmering aldehydes of Chanel and others we all know and love. These aldehydes are large and very round, satin beige in color compared to Chanel-aldehyde’s prismatic white, and impenetrable. You’ve seen this effect before on your television, where a film has a frozen frame of an explosion that they rewind to show the explosion folding in on itself. The act of doing this somehow neuters the explosion of all alarm and threat. The large, round, soft, beige aldehydes in the opening of Perdue do just that: explode, stop mid explosion, and fold-in on themselves to the eerie quiet of the perfume. Perdue will definitely not be for everyone. It doesn’t obey the rules of commercial perfumery. It’s olfactory avant garde art and I can’t thank Mathilde Laurent and Cartier enough for having the cajones to give it to us and to keep making it. It’s brilliant.

Phenolic oriental ★★★★★ Now nearing 8 years of being a perfume maniac and having tried and tested hundreds of perfumes, oils and aromachemicals, I’ve located a faraway kingdom of mind-numbing strangeness to which only a handful of perfumes have managed to enter. The song of this mysterious land sings of two opposing extremes – heartfelt familiarity and the cold eeriness at the bottom of uncanny valley. A soothing lullaby of childhood references, humane warmth and all things reassuring but discolored with unfamiliar and disturbing hues. Your will is dulled into comfort, but something is off. Many niche fragrances aim to be queer but usually end up aloof and unapproachable for the lack of anything human to grasp on. Being weird is easy and having approachable qualities effortless to achieve, yet it’s the combination of far extremes from both that’s hard to properly execute – a chilling atmosphere that simultaneously lulls and alarms. Some notable residents of this place so far are 100% Love with its chocolate-rose vomit, Le Feu d’Issey as the crazy B-vitamin milk oriental and even Angel as the dirtied funfair. Here comes the newest inhabitant, l’Heure Perdue, which I’d predominantly describe as paint thinner cardboard vanilla. HP is a kaleidoscopic marvel that seems to change with every wear and reveal unforeseen peculiarities depending on the wearer’s mood. Notes and accords of hot milk, rubber, bread, cinnamon cookies, iris, aromatic herbs, amber and peanut butter coming and going by the minute by the hour by the day. The soul of HP that seems to be on display every time is the intensely strange and profoundly phenolic paint thinner accord married to a rare treat that is nutty carboard vanilla. This mixture on one hand recalls easy memories like old books, freshly baked bread, milk tea and childhood homes yet the phenolic off-accord simulates a different type of enjoyment first experienced as a child. That gasoline, paint thinner or even nail polish remover smells so bizarre, intense, chemical and dangerous for health, but you wanted to stick in your nose again and again. Even more strange, an almost Guerlain-like appetizing and classic French touch hums in the background and ties the composition to a harmonious and legitimate perfume. How Mathilde Laurent arranged all these parts and made it both evocative and wearable is genius and beyond me. She has also openly stated that l’Heure Perdue is 100% synthetic which I think further magnifies her artistic vision and skill. This damned liquid, fusing delight and disturb into one, is not borrowed from nature but a product of one’s pure imagination. A word of caution, I consider HP to be a challenging perfume and shouldn’t be compared with regular perfumery and dismissed too quickly. A bit too strange to wear daily although once you’ve familiarized yourself with the scent, there is absolutely nothing on the market that satisfies the crave for what l’Heure Perdue hooks you on. For once you’ve ventured through secret passages and stepped into the kingdom of delight and disturb, heard its anthem and smelled the air, you are forever bound to seek these parts of a torn map to rebuild and find its entrance anew, again and once more. Soundtrack: Boards of Canada – Diving Station

I have long been a fan of Mathilde Laurent's work, ever since falling in love with Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Pamplelune. Her recent creations for Cartier have been consistently good, with « Les Heures » in particular piquing my interest. Apparently taking inspiration from Proust's madeleine, « Les Heures » aim to capture memories lost in time. Thanks to Luca Turin's glowing review, I was especially keen to try L'Heure Perdue XI, and found a full bottle on eBay. I sprayed it liberally on my wrists, expecting it to be love at first sniff. Instead, I was met with a jarring, deeply unusual scent, unlike any I had smelled before, and I was disappointed by my first impression - dislike, and an inability to understand what I was smelling. All day, it followed me, subtle yet hovering, and I was compelled to repeatedly smell it and attempt to decode it. As I familiarised myself with XI, it not only grew on me, but I began to appreciate it as the technical marvel it is. XI is apparently completely synthetic, and this in conjunction with the lack of listed notes adds an air of mystery. It is quite static and wears close to the skin. It smells of dry and dusty paper initially, slightly musty with a hint of sweetness. I have read before that the odour of old books is due to a compound related to vanillin that is emitted when paper begins to break down, and this is exactly what XI captures - better than any book-inspired scent I've tried. There is also something slightly lactonic, akin to sweetened/condensed milk under the surface. Instead of being off-putting to this milk-phobic, it is subtle and comforting, remininscent of a childhood memory that is just out of reach - in keeping with its Proustian moment inspiration. As it dries down, some very subtle powdery floral notes can be detected - some iris and L'Eau d'Hiver-esque heliotrope. XI has intimate sillage but lasts throughout the day. Unisex in my opinion, it works well as a discreet, comforting day scent that transcends seasons. Warm and comforting in a manner akin to both a cashmere jumper and warm brioche, I have worn this every day since my initial try, finding it quite addictive. I wish it was more readily available (and affordable!) A challenging scent that requires contemplation, XI is a rare masterpiece. An olfactory experience that unfolds slowly, XI is so much more rewarding than many scents with instant appeal. The best I've tried in a while, Mme Laurent has outdone herself. Incredible. 5/5.

L'Heure Perdue may likely be one of the most challenging fragrances in my possession, yet I am transfixed by it. I think of vanilla scented rubber erasers; flashbacks to the party balloons of childhood; the smell of my backpack I used in the second grade; pencils and crayons; Vienna wafers for snacks; warm milk on a sick day home from school;musty, dusty old books in a library (a lignin accord?!). It is a geyser of Proustian flashbacks. I am pulled inside out wearing this, thinking of how fleeting childhood is, but how life felt like it took forever each day, and a thousand adventures could occur from breakfast to bedtime. Now, at age 45, I sit here, wearing this, and I'm wondering what was Mathilde Laurent's true intention for this fragrance, because surely this isn't terribly accessible, it's not beautiful in the conventional sense, and the masses would surely scoff at how bizarre it seems to be. Yet I am smitten by its weirdness, unrelentingly phenolic and almost ammoniac. While its overtones are defiant against the conventions of perfumery, its undertones do reveal the heritage of Guerlain, with glimmers of Jicky-ness and Shalimar-ness in its heart and drydown. Further flashbacks of salty-soft-marzipan Play Doh and Magic Markers surface in the drydown. This is not for the fragrance novice, the faint of heart, but rather the insatiable adventurer, the nose that so deeply desires uncharted territory, because there is surely nothing else that smells like this. I give it a 10 out of 10.

My first impression of this fragrance was rather underwhelming, but everything changed the third time I tried it this spring in Cannes. Since then, I’ve become completely hooked. What really convinced me was how a simple paper blotter continued to scent my room for three days after I sprayed it. I kept catching these beautiful wafts in the air. The scent itself is surprisingly difficult to describe. To my nose, it combines a delicate rosy facet with a creamy, almost lactonic texture. At the same time, there’s a subtle sharpness running through the composition that keeps everything perfectly balanced perhaps coming from the aldehydes. What I love most is that it smells clean, but not in the typical “fresh laundry” or shower-gel sense. It’s a completely different interpretation of cleanliness: elegant, sophisticated, and distinctive. If you’re looking for a clean scent that stands apart from the crowd, this is absolutely worth trying. The blending is masterful. I’m genuinely happy to finally own a bottle. I paid full retail price for it which is something I rarely do and that alone says a lot about how much I enjoy this fragrance. As for some of the more unusual comparisons I’ve seen in other reviews, I personally don’t get balloons, latex, vomit, or any other off-putting nuances. On my skin, it’s simply beautiful.

when you first try new achord or a smell, you make associations to the first familiar thing you know in your head library : for me this was le feu d issay...it resembled that off acidic milky note which i love....then it turned into something unpleasant, but just for few hours. next day i tried it was better...the initial blast is lovely, i had hard time with the rest...BUT then it all went away, after couple of wearings its just the same as any other perfume you love....in a way that it doesnt smell weird, just lovely....this one is really special!!! well known notes but composed in unknown way, it reminds me of a baby doll smell... that is what takes you back to the childhood. I find it the most wearable perfume that i have, projection is not too big, nor longevity, it stays close to the skin after 3-4 hours....and sometimes i dont even recognize it in the afternoon, which doesnt happen to me with other scents . its lovely becasue you really can not mention any other perfume that resembles this one....also to me its defo feminine

I was really excited to try this one since I heard Luca Turin talking about it and it makes me really curious to smell this one. I went to Cartier store and once I smell this I was confused. I smelled faint sweetness in a clean polished way. After few mins I started to pick up some rose note also. I tried it at paper strip and on my skin. Same smell on both. Luca said it that this perfume will enter the room before you, I had opposite experience. It’s really faint and skin scent. Also the lady at the counter in a store didn’t agree that this one is on strong performance side. Anyways I had high expectations but was really disappointed. Also wanted to say that lady at the Zurich Cartier store was really lovely and we had a great chat!

Cartier XI L’heure Perdue (2015) - Praline Mimosa - #mathildelaurent creates a perfume that is both peculiar and intriguing, leaving fragrance enthusiasts and perfumers bewildered by its creation. The initial notes of Tarragon, Basil, and Heliotrope evoke a green, herbal, and powdery ambiance. As the fragrance evolves, I detect a dry and rooty Iris, a powdery musk reminiscent of Mimosa, and a warm vanilla. The dry down phase unveils a heavenly Praline accord—rich yet not overly sweet. This perfume is a harmonious blend of synthetic fragrances and the most expensive natural ingredients in perfumery. The remarkable feat lies in the fact that it has been crafted solely using synthetic ingredients. Bravo!

One word: masterpiece. This is beautifully synthetic, like something created in a lab to evoke memories from the past. It is weirdly "hovering" if there is such a thing--almost like a vanillic cloud that suspends in mid-air. While many vanillic-themed fragrances settle down, this one remains transfixed, like it is under a microscope or soaked into a stone pillar. There is nothing like this on the market today. Get a bottle for your collection. (From the Les Heures collection, this one is my favorite. Also check out Trezieme Heure (leather) and Heure Defendue (chocolate cake and patchouli.)

A little informative note to the Fragrantica team: The notes for the Heures de Cartier series are actually written on Cartier's site, in the description that is placed at the bottom of each fragrance's page. Putting them on this site as well would probably give users a better idea if they'd like these perfumes or not. Since they're all rather interesting, I think it would be worth your while. Thanks a million! :) Love your site

This perfume takes me to a new place while at the same time comforting me in some inexplainable and familiar way. I absolutely adore it for the complicated feelings it evokes. It is like nothing else and should receive more praise than it does. Definitely back-up bottle worthy!

Very original, well done! After I few days of use, this perfume is still more impressive. It reminds me of Teint De Neige (Villoresi); l'Heure Perdue is more refined and weird. Excellent.

I've never smelled something quite like it. Very original and unique. Classy as always from Cartier. Very good longevity and projection. 8/10

This smells a bit like Dove soap. If you've been dying for the perfume version of this classic, give it a sniff.

@Creamy_ambrette I’m selling my bottle. 200 shipped. Will ship MA—>CONUS. Message me if interested.

Beautiful fragrance & quite similar to Rosendo 5 but more tamed & refined

I am floored. It slightly reminds me of Cologne Blanche/Bois D'Argent with its milky/powdery/almondy vanilla, and then the main talk of the show - balloons. Yes, it reminds me of balloons you would have at your birthday parties as a kid. This is an odd and unique combo, but a genius one at that. It is challenging, but not in a transgressive way, it walks that line just about right to make you feel something, but never to offend you. It's alien enough to be intriguing, but human enough to feel the warmth and familiarity of it. Just when you think you figured it out, here it is with another shift that will challenge and make you wonder, what is this exactly? magic? it could be...

I so wanted this to be my go-to fragrance, and people have said it smells nice on me HOWEVER I just don’t think I can get over the rubber balloon scent. It distracts me throughout the day. I’ve really tried and I won’t be defeated but at the moment I’m just not getting it. I can tell this is an important fragrance and definitely classy but oh that latex 😥

L'Heure Perdue opens both acidic and vanillic and a bit cardboardy musty. The scent alters between sour and cardboardy vanilla. After a while, it tones down a bit and becomes quite sweet and a tiny bit floral. Decent sillage and longevity, both are moderate on me. Not my thing, had to scrub it off due to the acidic notes underneath. This one's not working on me!

a strange vanillic that never offers any confort

Reviewing a decant from 2025. L'Heure Perdue XI Cartier was launched in 2015. An experimental purely synthetic cold vanillic fragrance. This is a fairly linear creation. It opens with the sharp scent of a cardboard box which has been sprayed with a drugstore non descript celluloid vanillic floral cologne. It settles into a vaguely floral chemical dusty superclean musk. Very potent. Quality- 1/5 Expert blending aside there is nothing of value here Unisex performance- 5/5 beast Overall this is not interesting or unique - we have been inundated with these purely synthetic fragrances for years before this was launched (CDG, Not a Perfume, Escentrics and many others some of who do a better job creating something interesting). Ever since the creation of Jicky we have known that synthetics in perfume are important in enhancing and helping naturals sparkle. What happens when there are no naturals at all? The fragrance is invariably cold and soulless. I understand that the way we experience fragrance is deeply personal so there are people who will enjoy or even crave entirely synthetic creations. If this is you - give this a try. Personally, these scents make me yearn for something real. Sample this if you must or purchase a full bottle for 270 Euros.The folks at Cartier will be laughing all the way to the bank. 2/10

I just got this today. I bought it blind after it popped for sale online at a price i could not resist. I am a huge Cartier perfume fan, so i went for it knowing it will probably be good. And good it is, although reviews confuse the heck out of me. I read all reviews i could find, but only after i made my purchase. The reviews made it sound like i am about to receive this ultimate, priceless, unmatched, never to be repeated work of art. I was both excited and terrified, since price was good, but not really cheap. So today it comes in the mail. I spray and i wait. Maybe 20 seconds. Not more than that. Just waiting for the initial blast to settle and my fear to dissipate. But what i end up smelling on my arm is definitely not scary. Not acidic. No musty cardboard with layer of sweetness on top of it. Certainly no paint thinner. And not disturbing. Not even one of a kind, and for sure not even close to "everyone must smell this, if not have it". It is nothing more and nothing less than a tad more refined L'Instant de Guerlain, with tiny little nuances that differentiate Cartier from any other brand out there, but in a nutshell, it is just powdery sweet fragrance. Perdue could be unisex, unless you are super man' s man, in which case i would not recommend it. My husband liked it, but he showered before work, so there's that. Reviews definitely make this perfume sound more enigmatic and mysterious than it really is, but as a Cartier lover, i am thrilled to have it in my collection, since i enjoy L'Instant de Guerlain as well.

I’m a wrist-sniffer and this is not good for that purpose, as there’s something immediately sour and off-putting about if sniffed at just-above skin level. On the chest, back of the neck, or on fabric, the sillage is lovely, familiar, vanillic, yes, but dry, not gourmand sweet. The effect from a distance is a light veil of warm, fairly clean, human stink. I feel the notions of cardboard, vinegar, party balloons, rubber, and urinous notes mentioned below. I’ve never given birth to understand the lochia association, but I get it: there’s something organic about this. I wish I had some other accustomed thing to liken it to, dried spit on clean skin, perhaps. It’s just strange that one would shower to get clean, then spray this on to smell slightly dirty. Another comparison might be the general odor of some young, healthy person who sprayed on a generic vanilla scent a day before, and this is what they smell like a day later if they hadn’t showered or brushed their teeth. Another idea: what one of Ickes’ lizard people would apply to pass as human. It’s weird.

I adore this fragrance. I went to my local Cartier Boutique in Sydney three years ago to smell the L'Heures collection. L'Heure Perdue was the stand out... unusual yet familiar. I tried it on my wrists and was in for a wild ride. All afternoon it teased me with flashes and memories from long ago....until my very precise nose identified the memory. Lochia... the fluid that comes from the uterus after birth. The amniotic fluid that surely would be the first scent memory of a newborn. As a new mother, the body produces this liquid for a time after a birth. The glorious miracle and the smell of a new baby...the production of fragrant human milk and the lochia that is expelled from the body all combined to surround the new mother with a scent so human, so joyous that even seeing a photo of my baby boy after twenty five years can transfer this smell from my memory to my nose. L'Heure Perdue did this for me. It is rich, opulent and yet entirely synthetic... what a miracle Mathilde Laurent... to create the perfume that smells of creation. Je suis une mère Xx

Vanillic scented doll heads. cinnamon dust, old, barely-still-scented powdered herbs... old books, TV static, cardboard, white, Polaroids, crayons, synthetic green almonds, magazine pages, play-doh, yes yes latex balloons... a birthday party no one showed up to. I had been nursing a sample of this for 3 years until I finally grabbed a full bottle because even though this will never be a daily wear perfume for me, the genius behind it never ceases to amaze. How can something smell so oddly spacious and unnatural and yet be so warm and evoke such melancholy?? It’s a conundrum in a bottle. Unforgettable. I think it’s perfection and even if I only pull it out on occasion I love having such a masterpiece on my shelf.

The opening note is sweet and almost jammy which comes from the vanilla and almond I think. This top note dissipates quickly then it becomes powdery and somewhat muted. Definitely a skin scent that has a play-doh like feel. Man, this one is almost impossible to describe. It's like a mix of clean skin, make up powder and Play-Doh with a soft, barely sweet dusty haze. A scent to be inhaled when you are right up close with someone. Describing this is like sensing and remembering something far away that's slightly out of focus, like a fuzzy dream. I'm not sure its something I would actually wear, but Im glad I experienced this just the same. It's something everyone should try at lease once.

I keep going back again and again to ponder this frag. I have tested this in different weather/ temperature and skin vs. fabric. Learnings so far: spray sparsely- one puff is enough; skin or fabric but away from the nose/ head area / preferably under clothes; can benefit from layering with smoky/ boozy/ citrus frag for that Guet-Apens/ Shalimar- vibe; does not pair well with food but ok as a going to sleep frag when used in moderation. Still don’t know if I love it but I don’t hate it. It’s definitely an intelligent composition that gives one lots to analyze and reflect upon. Sometimes though you want your scents to “speak” more plainly.

I want to turn toward the phenomenon of liminal spaces: abandoned malls, hotel corridors, and empty playgrounds. The absence of human presence in these places is disconcerting. What is a playground if not a place where kids are playing? I get that same feeling of disconcertment when smelling L'Heure Perdue. It's a children's birthday party with no attendees. There is cake frosting. Latex balloons. A bouncy house. Taped gift boxes. Doll heads. There is no one to be found. Yet, I cannot help sniffing my wrist. I'm nostalgic to a fault. I can co-exist with the eeriness of L'Heure Perdue if it means holding onto a figment of simpler times.

This is the strangest perfume I own. I smell cat urine on a plastic surface, and something organic-vegetal. Like urine and milk on a artemisia bush. I also get the party balloon smell. No vanilla, no almond. I ordered this on eBay from Russia, and I initially thought I was cheated. But I recognize the perfume in the reviews I read. I don’t understand why Luca Turin gives 5 stars to this. I recommend NOT to blind buy this.

The chemical hour. As a creative achievement with absolutely no naturals in it astounding. As a scent I want to wear a little less so. I guess this is one you buy for the conversation rather than the scent itself. Room for it in any fragrance collection and just about anybody can live without it. Do try and judge for yourself. 7.5/10

Stealing what others have said below...challenging Dove soap...not my thing. All true. :) Edit 3/3/22 - Still find this terrible. I literally have been using my decant to spray the kitchen trash bin but today I am throwing it away b/c I don't like to even catch a whiff when I open the lid. Au revoir, Perdue.

There you can see the training Mathilde has undergo by Guerlain during the 11years she was there. But only in the second (3+hours) phase. The first phase is alien/baloons/gummi doll head memory of a small child. Weird. Phantastic. I can handle it only on fabrics...

I'm a big fan of Cartier's high perfumery fragrances from the Les Heures de Parfum and the Les Heures Voyageuses collections. However, this one (L'Heure Perdue XI), to me, smells like a party balloon before you blow it up. And I cannot escape from that comparison.

A beautiful scent that unfolds like a flower If anyone has a bottle to sell in the EU - message me

To my nose: dusty vanilla, aldehydes, the sour of cheap chocolates.