L'Homme de Coeur

L'Homme de Coeur is the final Divine sample from my discovery set, ending things on a high. Divine's masculines are consistently excellent, if nothing groundbreaking, and HdC is no different - in fact, it is my favourite. HdC is a quietly impressive scent that can be summed up as a fresh, aromatic woody scent featuring a great use of iris note at its heart and ambergris in the base. It is made with high-quality, realistic-smelling materials, and is breezily elegant, as is typical for this house. It feels Creed-like in style, initially remaining me a little of Green Irish Tweed, but it is likely due to the high-quality ambergris note, as @alkemi below points out. HdC opens with a bracing, green aromatic accord with a prominent juniper note up top. Reminiscent of a refreshing gin and tonic, it is airy and green-tinged with a fleeting boozy edge. The pine-like cypress adds to the green freshness of the opening. The angelica follows, adding a bitter herbal quality, and I get ambergris early on, its salty muskiness rounding out the bright freshness of the opening. It brings to mind a marine scent here, as the salt forms a seaweed-like effect alongside the angelica. As it develops, lightweight, powdery iris emerges, a seamless progression from the fresh, aromatic opening. More shimmering than truly powdery, it is the perfect addition here, adding subtle refinement. The amber accord lingers, becoming increasingly musky as it dries down, with the salty ambergris note lingering. I get some soft, dry vetiver, adding a woody edge as it fades, melding nicely with the musky-iris drydown. Sillage and longevity are moderate. It reads as very masculine to my nose, but without being harsh or obnoxious - a remarkable feat in modern perfumery. It is best worn on spring/summer days, thanks to its airy freshness. HdC is an utterly elegant, everyday scent that feels self-assured despite its subtlety. Masterfully composed, this is deceptively simple and compelling throughout, quietly luxurious while being immensely impressive. A freshie with depth and refinement. 5/5.

L'Homme de Coeur is my favorite Divine fragrance, and it's also the most subtle of the men's. The opening is lightly coniferous and herbaceously spicy with a pronounced Iris note. The Iris is cool and clean but it stops short of being too sharp. The Iris is the main focus of the scent and it lasts almost all the way through the dry down. Within the first hour some woodiness from the base starts to glow, propping up the Iris note even more. When the Amber and Vetyver join the mix, the Amber makes an Amber-Iris accord that is almost incense-like, and the Vetyver gives the scent a light raw earthiness. These new accords are well behaved and stay in the background. The description I got with my sample says there is also Liatrix and Musk. I learned that Liatrix is an oriental note based on the Deer's Tongue plant's leaves, and has a Vanilla-like aroma because the leaves contain crystals of coumarin. It's not Musky to me. L'Homme de Coeur comes in an EDP and the longevity is very good. After six hours it is still there, it has moved in closer but still very much present. If you like comparisons, then this Iris is something like Infusion d'Homme's but it's not as sharp. Two very different takes on the Iris. L'Homme de Coeur is one of the best lighter scents I've ever tried.

If you're looking for something stunning or obstentately opulent you should better avoid L'Homme De Coeur. Instead, if discreet elegance and refinement is what you're after I guess you could really be positively surprised by this composition. A serious contendant, or at least an alternative, to the most popular Dior Homme (to me there is no match between the two as I largely prefer this one over the Dior but that's another point). Iris, woody notes and juniper are the main ingredients of this concotion and are actually enough to create a perfectly balanced blend that easily stands at the top of this kind of fragrances together with the most popular names. The overall effect is the same of listening to a singer with one of those faint voices but with an unmistakeable vpoiceprint. A sort of mascuilne version of Peggy Lee. L'Homme De Coeur is a good example of a contemporary masterpiece aimed at everyday's wearing and still maintaining an incredible dose of uniqueness. Subtile perfection. Rating: 8.5 leaning to 9/10

L'Homme de Coeur is a quiet refined gentlemanly scent that sits at the intersection of two great perfumery traditions. The suede opening quickly gives way to Guerlain-like depth as angelica and green notes create a phantom chocolatey accord atop a bed of vetiver. It is warm, confident and subtly sweet- reminding me at times of Guerlain's L'Homme Ideal EDT's gentle brother. The ambergris lends a more airy quality to the profile with a slight saltiness. As a composition, it is very well done. It has this dichotomy of that Creed naturalistic airiness and Guerlain's architectural darkness. The only limitation for me could also be seen as it's strength which is that of projection: it sits very close to the skin which makes it a more intimate, personal fragrance than a statement piece. For those who appreciate that quiet sophistication however, this will not disappoint! Rating: 8/10 Wearability: 8/10 Projection: Soft Longevity: Long Lasting

The scent is hard to describe as it's not exactly green or floral or woody. But if I had to choose one I would say green, particularly in the beginning. Not truly powdery either. But rather like sparkling dust in a Dune (the movie) spice kinda way. I'm not an iris fan and this is not an iris dominated fragrance. It's a proper composition of different notes blended to create something greater than its parts. Deceptively lingering presence too. I will echo the sentiment that this is one classy and elegant scent. What I will add is that it is amazing in hot summer weather. (But great anytime, casual or formal.) The dry down with ambergris note gives me major Creed vibes. Once I forgot what I was wearing and was instantly reminded of Creed MI when I picked up on its presence at the end of the day. An exceptional and underrated gem. BTW, can we please update the photo to the metallic case which is practical and awesome. 😎 Rating - 8.5/10

L’Homme de Coeur is a damn near perfect masculine. Silvery and abstract, it initially smells of nothing in particular except gentlemanly refinement. It’s the scent equivalent of a dry martini. In a few minutes the individual components resolve. A bitter-herbal-clear top, bitter-woody pale-dry heart, and — ah yes here it comes — a lovely pure-white iris, with the inedible sweetness of coumarin. And that’s where we stay as the scent (rather quickly) fades to a whisper: clean sweet white iris. It makes me think of a gloriously blank notebook, pure white pages ready for the writer’s pen. Crisp, pristine, with a fine cheerful morning feeling. You are an unrealistically wealthy writer in the 1930’s who lives in a penthouse overlooking Central Park. You have had your coffee and newspaper — your spoon was sterling silver — and you’ve dressed in an sleek suit and hat and are ready to settle down to work.

One of the most masculine iris fragrances in the market, L'Homme De Coeur is a vey distinctive herbal woody composition feauturing the iris as the star. Heavy notes such as vetiver and cypress reside here in the background and leave iris to take the lead like tigers protecting an arctic fox. The iris feels slightly cold and powdery but the overall feel is tremendously woody and herbal fresh with green nuances and a salty undertone. In the dry-down it gets sweeter, in a dry dusty way. Perfect for the summer since it is very cooling and refreshing in case understatement and elegance is your thing. It will also apeal to lovers of herbal scents and vetiver fans.

Mr. Nice Guy (Yvon Mouchel & Yann Vasnier, 2002) Scentrack: The Style Council - You're The Best Thing One of my best discoveries. Perfectly balanced Mr. Nice Guy. Realistic, fresh iris devoid of the lipstick vibe combined with a pinch of pepper, bitter angelica and juniper and cypress. Drydown is absolutely gorgeous with ambergris and musk. Positive, gentle and optimistic. A positive thinking battery. Nice and simple scent. The perfumed light. Rating: 8/10

A spicy green floral with nice dark woody undertones. The floral is a wonderful Iris note that does not have that "lipstick" scent that you experience with other Iris-based fragrances. Definitely not a linear fragrance. L'homme de Coeur is a very nice masculine EDP that, in my opinion, can be worn year-round for any occasion. Projection is arm's length. Longevity for myself was about 10 hours. A solid 10/10.

This is my favourite Divine Fragrance for men, It is a wonderful and long last fragrance.

It is a bottle I bought ten years ago. That line is not a disclaimer. It defines the object. On skin, what rises first is a single plane. The oily green of juniper, the dry resin of cypress, the green barb of angelica. The house lists these three at the top, but I cannot hear them as three. Whatever supplies them, the three effects sit in one overlapping monoterpene register—α-pinene above all—and what they share weakens the boundaries between them. Three notes are promised; one plane arrives. Cold, resinous, without depth. It registers as area rather than thickness. Then the iris appears. But the verb is wrong. The iris does not arrive. It is exposed. As the resinous plane thins, what was already beneath it becomes visible. The way a rock appears when the water level drops. Nothing new has been added. Something has only been taken away. Forty minutes. The iris reaches its maximum. At its core is the smell of a raw root vegetable split open—starchy, damp on the inside—and around that a thin sheath of violet powder. Three hours later, the warmth that has sunk into the skin smells like the opening angelica with only its sharpness subtracted. A material explanation can be supplied. Some analyses place the macrocyclic-lactone fraction of angelica root oil at around 1.3 percent. One of those lactones is 15-pentadecanolide—Exaltolide, in the trade. Which is to say: musk. The material holds two separate times within itself. In the fast time there is the green barb; in the slow time, a warm animal. Follow a good root oil on a blotter for a few hours and you can confirm the doubling. But what that demonstrates concerns angelica root oil, not this perfume. The formula is unpublished, and given the price it is likelier that the base musk was added separately as a synthetic. There is a material explanation available for why the opening and the base are heard as two different hours of one material. That an explanation is available is not the same as its being the explanation. Note how readily it offered itself. A join that a single natural material can plausibly take credit for is a join that has been made difficult to see. A perfume carries two documents: the note pyramid, written as poetry, and the ingredient list, compelled by law. The first states what the work wishes to be heard as. The second states what the law made it name. The current product's list contains hydroxycitronellal and hexyl cinnamal. Lily of the valley, and the soft sweetness of white flowers. Neither is available from nature; neither appears anywhere in the pyramid. Outside the poem there are flowers that remain unwritten. But this is the current declaration, not my bottle's. Some version of the formula contains materials capable of producing a white-floral softness the house does not name—that is as far as the document reaches. What they were put there for is unknown. To add a breath of humidity, perhaps; to round off the coarseness of the terpenes. But rounding coarseness is also how a join becomes unreadable. The ground beneath the iris is not given. It is made. Coumarin's dry sweetness shares a tactile register with the dry cold of the monoterpenes; vetiver's root takes over from angelica's root; the ambergris accord lays down the temperature of skin. They are not one material. Several have been leveled until they read as a single ground. It is closer to welding, and then grinding the weld flat. The seams were not absent to begin with. They were filled, and then dressed—dressed well enough that a single root oil could take the credit. And one line was left unfilled. Starch against powder. The iris's texture belongs to a different sense of touch than the terpene dryness around it, and that alone will not be leveled. Or was not. So this is not a perfume with only one contrast. It is a perfume in which every boundary but one has been filled. The iris holds its outline to the end not because it is foreign, but because once everything around it was closed, the one place left open remains as an edge. The whole weight rests on that single line. What surrounds it, taken alone, is a competent aromatic skeleton. The name should be read twice. Cœur is a virtue, and it is also the middle register of a perfume, the heart between top and base. In the man of heart, it is the heart alone that was left unclosed. If the whole weight rests on one line, then whatever erases that line erases the perfume. Distance does exactly that. At the wrist, this perfume is dense; from across a room, it is very nearly absent. The charge of thinness is therefore not a hallucination. It reports something accurately. But what it reports is not quantity of matter; it is legibility at distance. When distance thins the whole, no contrast remains that could restore an outline. To the extent that this behavior belongs to the original formula, it was, in 2002, a choice. The high-projection line at the center of the men's market took as its design principle the crossing of distance: volatile synthetics stacked thick. Entering a room was the function of a scent; a claim on other people's space was the content of masculinity there. L'Homme de Cœur does not refuse that grammar. It borrows it. Having borrowed it, it removes only the reason the grammar exists—the staging of arrival. Heard from across a room, its first five minutes are not far from its contemporaries. The difference appears only up close. "Will he be the man of the twenty-first century?" the house asked. If the work is allowed to answer: what it proposes is a masculinity that does not arrive. Its entrance goes unregistered. It makes no claim on anyone else's olfactory territory. It ends at arm's length. That nobility and dignity have been attached to this perfume again and again is not a statement of taste. Faced with a structure that has chosen not to demand, people call it dignity. The house calls it un accord inédit composé autour de l'iris—an unprecedented accord composed around the iris. The claim of novelty can be defended: I know of no earlier case of an iris set on an aromatic skeleton with that skeleton's contrast machinery switched off. Autour de is only half right. The perceptual center is indeed the iris, and the whole weight rests there. But the operation that makes the structure work does not lie at the center. It lies in the leveling of everything around it. Iris absolute is announced; the leveling that made it possible is named in no document. Yvon Mouchel, who signs the house's statement and is credited as one of the two perfumers, gave elegance and subtlety as his aim. Those words name the result. Neither names the operation. Before returning to the first line, one thing should be said plainly, since the argument has run in the perfume's favor. What limits this work is not its quietness but its ground. A composition that deletes its events must answer for whatever is left once they are gone, and quiet perfumes survive on the strangeness of what lies under the quiet—Iris Silver Mist is quiet, and what lies beneath it is strange. This ground is competent rather than strange. Some of the seamlessness also came cheap. The materials were chosen to be levelable: things that share dryness and root blend readily. And the wager is not fully funded. A structure that stakes everything on one material wants that material to be overwhelming, and this iris is not. What deserves respect is the judgment rather than the expenditure: angelica used as structure and not as decoration, liatris chosen when almost nobody chooses it, projection abandoned in the year projection was the market. Here I have to return to the first line. Over these ten years some fraction of the α-pinene, the carene, the limonene has certainly oxidized. But oxidation is not erasure. Pinene yields verbenone and its oxides; limonene yields carvone and carveol. These smell—resinous, medicinal, like stale citrus. The fast layer has thinned and the more persistent powder, sweetness and musk have come forward. Whether the powder and the musk are themselves unchanged cannot be claimed without measurement. Time has therefore not repeated the perfumers' work. It has imitated it crudely. It leveled some of the seams, and on the way drew lines of its own. Like a restorer who strips the varnish and leaves his own brushstrokes behind. And I cannot separate the two hands. Which of the leveled boundaries were leveled in 2002, and which on a shelf over ten years, my nose cannot tell. That the iris is exposed rather than arriving may be the design of the work, or the work of time. Until I can set a new bottle beside this one, this essay is a hypothesis. And there is some rightness in leaving it as one. I find myself wanting to read that irresolution alongside the perfume's own reticence.

One of the nicest surprises I've had in my journey through fragrance. If I may bore you with a short back story? I had an order of decants from Surrender To Chance delayed for some reason and the good folks there threw in a couple of free samples by way of apology (great customer service from STC as always), of which this was one. I must confess to having never heard of either this fragrance, nor the house from whence it came. As such, there's very little chance I'd have actually bought this scent myself. Also, I was only just coming to terms with iris as a primary note at the time, and was quite undecided from what I'd experienced at that point. L'Homme de Coeur changed that for me. It is unlike any other iris I'd experienced before or since and really put into perspective for me, how I like my iris framed. I'm not saying it's the greatest iris of all time by a long shot, for instance, I greatly appreciate the accidental artistry of something like Luten's Iris Silver Mist and would never put LHdC on the same level as something like that. But it really is an elegant, subtle, classy interpretation When I opened my sample, I dabbed a little on kind of mindlessly and in the opening, all I got was that department store/designer frag opening that so many of the uninspired mainstream masculine scents seem to have these days and thought, "oh well, at least it was free", and I threw it in the drawer. But quite seriously, it took literally 5 minutes for that opening to burn off and reveal what lay beneath. That is, a really well executed iris note that is neither to powdery or too waxy/lipstick like. It's still dry and crisp, but I find a certain warmth in it. Accompanying that is a wonderful concert of angelica, juniper and vetiver that blend seamlessly and add a real elegance to the overall accord. It's all wrapped up in a cedar/cypress woods that avoid being either too chilly or too much like pencil shavings. Paradoxically, it's an ethereal musk and ambergris combo that seem to lend some solidity to the composition, which is hard to fathom really, but does seem to help provide shape and some extra surprises in the later dry down. Overall, I rate this offering from Divine quite highly, in terms of it being below "niche" quality (whatever you take that to mean) and sitting more comfortably with more mainstream designer scents. But that being the case, it definitely deserves to reside quite near the top of that particular pile in my opinion. It's an understated, extremely well executed fragrance, with moderate to good longevity, which should keep you very happy indeed. Anyway, sorry for the essay! That got pretty long winded...I really just wanted to express the pleasant surprise I had with this scent.

Bought in Dinard a special little sea resort in Britany where the house 'Divine' is. Very special scent, both virile and surprising with its powdery note. Maybe too much styrax in the composition.

For an elegant man! I can smell Iris, Angelica and cypress. Office compatible, very versatile, for all seasons and all ages. 8/10

Green top with smoky/juniper-y cypress in the opening. Then there's the apparition of a lipstick-y iris in the heart, giving a vague impression of suede leather, a-la ELdO Tom of Finland, but also vaguely Tom Daxon Resin Sacra. In the base the iris will combine vetiver, ambergris and (very probably) olibanum. At that stage, it is very close to another fragrance (or should I say the oppposite, given the release dates): Clive Christian V (the 2017 formulation). (edit: someone downvoted that similarity - I did a side-by-sdie comparison.... get yourself a nose, buddy!) A stunning fragrance, that I only wish would perform better, an issue at that price point, but that might please who prefers softer fragrances. Spring/Fall days, 25+

The opening to this fragrance is pencil shavings and classic men's cologne - something that's been done before. I'm not impressed. Divine "Sage" is even more pedestrian - it smells like a classic barbershop scent. Like something older men used to bathe in before going to parties in the 70's. So far i'm not a fan of this house.

subtle and refined. Not really for me. Could imagine this on a confident, high-powered man. one of the few men's fragrances I might say is truly not suited for a masculine woman. too cool/cold in nature. better in warmer months

There's something that gave me an instant headache. I think the mix of iris with green angelica give this scent a horrible bug spray direction. My least favorite of the house.

What a nice, clean, cozy scent. I do think this could be unisex, although the character of this scent is more stereotypically masculine. I’m a woman, and I’m enjoying it as part of a decant set of iris-themed fragrances. This is a “clean laundry, walking in a juniper woods” kind of smell. The iris contributes to the woodiness and I think is either part of or very complemented by the “clean laundry” musk. The vetiver also draws this into an earthy, rooty vibe. It is a very fresh fragrance, fresh in an outdoorsy kind of way; but not going totally down the “Irish Spring” route—it has more character than that. It is vaguely similar to Bijan Nude for Men, only de Coeur has more of a woodsy (juniper) note. The iris does give it a unique character, not quite powdery but sort of an earthy dustiness, a diffuseness of the scent. I did not find this scent to evolve much, but it did seem to intensify slightly as I wore it longer, becoming a bit stronger after 3 hours than I perceived it to be at first application, which was interesting. Longevity was 5+ hours, and sillage is moderate.

One of the classiest iris scent I have tried. Opening is heavy on the cypress and especially juniper. Quite green but also fairly radiant. The iris eventually presents itself which is not that of the powdery ''makeup'' kind, but more of a rooty iris. The most prominent notes are juniper and iris in the mid, and the overall feel is a mixture of green and fresh. A very faint musk and wood accord is barely detectable in the background. An understated fragrance which is suitable for nearly any occasion. To me, it's one of the best iris based scents for men. Lasting power and longevity are unfortunately not the best. It turns into a skin scent rather quickly and doesn't last more than say four to five hours, but for its blend alone one should definitely give it a try. 8,5/10

I have gone back and forth on this fragrance a number of times. I think because it is unique and is somewhat seasonal. It's kind of hard to categorize and doesn't shine year-round. On me, it is a dry and powdery iris with a hint of cool sweetness. This scent is wintry, and fresh, and soft at the same time. It's green smelling, but not verdant. Rather, pale green. After it settles, it becomes soft, warm, and a little spicy with a hint of pencil shavings. The whole experience reminds me of late winter/early spring when the crocuses are peeking through the ice melt. Definitely ideal for cooler months. I feel this is a unisex fragrance and could be someone's go-to office scent. Refreshing but not groundbreaking.

Super fresh, hyper-appealing evergreen scent. Evokes the blue-green coolness of an alpine spring. Or Caron Pour un Homme Sport (?) but more light and green. I like it, and wish more male-oriented scents were like this. On the other hand, it doesn't appeal enough to me, or strike me as unique enough to warrant wearing it on my person. I really do appreciate it though, and would much rather this sort of thing were more popular among young men than less natural smelling alternatives. Cool!

I think it is very similar to Angel Schlesser, but in a reverse sort of way. L`Homme de Coeur starts as a sharp citrus+cardamom+cypress, and then it warms up to a nice woody-citrus base with a very strong approach towards the iris - as knightz wrote, the iris enhances later on (love it, love it, love it!). Very light and in my opinion, suitable for women as well!

This one is a somehow clean, less synthetic and actually a much better version of versace the dreamer. if you like the dreamer but it is too strong, cloying, headache inducing or synthetic for you, try this one. just like the dreamer it reminds me of clean linen. here, you can smell the iris much better, too!

At first, this smelled pretty good, but it didn't wow me. Kind of dry and....brittle? But after 2 or 3 hours, the vanilla slowly comes forward and I'm liking it more. Perhaps not enough for me to get a whole bottle, but I do think it's worth a try if the notes sound good to you.

Intriguing because it showcases a very prominent smell of burnt, electrical cables combined with synthetic, almond topped coconut macaroons. Very plasticy and odd - it smells more like one of those Mark Buxton compositions for CDG.

great for summer; definite citrus opening with juniper, angelica, cypress and vetiver, touch of ambergris