L'Heure Bleue Eau de Parfum

Comparison of new batches of L’Heure Bleue Extrait, EdP, and EdT. This enthusiastic vintage hunter curiously doesn’t own a vintage L’Heure Bleue, an oversight I hope to correct in the near future with a bit of good luck (and quite a bit of cash). This legend is coveted for good reason. Fortunately, I haven’t found a critical need to chase after one since Guerlain has kept LHB in solid shape. Gratitude and commendations to them and Thierry Wasser for that. There are some differences to the vintages, of course, and there should be, but LHB’s DNA and identity are firmly intact in new formulations. The biggest differences between the new and the old is the precision of the floral heart, which is clearer and sharper in new formulations, and the vintages are more generous with animal musks lending them to a sweeter and more civety feel in the dry downs. Sticking strictly to the new formulations, here are the key differences between them. The first, no surprise, is the speed with which they progress. The EdT being the fastest, it reaches its dry down in a couple of hours - which is quite a bit faster by at least a couple of hours compared to vintage EdTs. It’s cheap, so don’t worry about it; lather yourself in it and you’ll get an on-par experience for today’s EdTs. The EdP is the second fastest, reaching its dry down in about four hours. This is on par with vintage EdPs and what you should expect from today’s EdPs. Finally, the extrait is the slowest, reaching its dry down in about 8 hours. This is definitely quicker than vintages, which took about ten, but it is on par with today’s extraits. Notably though, the top notes of the extrait dispense very quickly, within an hour; this is unusually quick for an extrait of any period. While we’re on the subject of top notes, there lies the most perceptible difference between the three new formats. The EdT is mostly bitter and sour bergamot, with a fleck of anise. The EdP gives the same bitter and sour bergamot but better rounded and cooled off by tarragon, sage, touches of coriander, and the citrusy floral of orange blossom. The extrait is the most bracing of the three. The sour and bitter bergamot is virtually the same but the anise note is turned way up. This makes the extrait stand out quite a bit from the other two as darker, spicier, and woodier. This experience aligns, I believe, with vintage versions I have tried and are recalling to memory, but that is likely irrelevant since the age of vintage versions will mean most of those top notes have died off to some degree. In the heart they are virtually the same, and smell like LHB has done for a very long time. The quietly beating heart of LHB is what makes this perfume so special. Red and fleshy roses; creamy and spicy carnations; powdery and dry orris and violets; benzoin of the base and the carnation harmonizing to a quiet note of cinnamon like a thread running through the perfume. The EdT’s heart is more monodimensional than the extrait’s or the EdP’s, opting for more of the creamy and spicy carnations and a white floral amalgam in comparison to the extrait’s and EdP’s less abstract and more dynamic presentations. Very good nonetheless. The extrait pushes a bit more jasmine to the front than the other two. Every time I smell LHB’s heart I get vivid images of a bouquet in a very old and dusty home that has seen more than its fair share woeful tales. The heart is eerily quiet and dark, but yet gentle and affectionately soft at the same time. Near the end of the day, the EdT is long gone from my skin, having moved to a skin scent of earthy tonka, sweet and woody benzoin, and powdery orris many hours ago. Simple and very pleasant. The EdP just tucked in about a couple hours ago, having gone in quite a different direction. Creamy sandalwood, peppery cedar, sweet benzoin, and a good dose of green vetiver. The extrait is finally at its skin scent, with its base comfortably between the two, most notably with an absence of green vetiver, opting for more warm woods and orris. Though the extrait and the EdP are a bit different in their dry downs, they have enough in common to be called the same, and for me this dry down is one of the best in perfume history. It’s gorgeous. So there you have it, new LHB in a nutshell, quick and dirty. Which one you prefer is entirely up to your tastes and need for practicality. All three are wearable any time and any place, even the extrait - though bigger, louder, and richer, it is never too much for any particular setting. However, practically, it’s likely cost prohibitive for the vast majority of us. Your choice, and there’s no better or worse choice. It’s L’Heure Bleue after all, one of the best of all time.

L'Heure Bleue is a peace of mind. Do you want to know Guerlain? You buy L’Heure Bleue and sniff alone. You will know what’s call “Guerlainade”. The opening is not iffy the best. But when the floral had bloom. You’re in the middle of the bloom garden. Lay on bed of cocooning sweet powdery iris. That’s all, Essential of Guerlain. ==== Extension of previous review. I pass this to my partner, which mostly hate any perfume I put on. And he is not into perfume, he is stinky boy. He had zero knowledge about perfume. I ask him “how was it?” He replied “Yes, this smells good” “Is it smell old?” I ask again. He told me “No, this is not old, this smell like something a noble should wear. it is not old, but it is a scent that class people would wear in pervious time” I freeze, he doesn’t even know the background of this parfum but he replied correctly. This ends up smell like soft nivea cream on my skin. A true blue. A true blue. ===== Extension 1 on Feb 20, 2024 After I received the bottle of L’heure bleue. I used to almost every night.. (only 1-2 night that I used Eau de Guerlain) but when I wake up in the new morning. I never really satisfied as a night I use L’heure bleue... It starts to become part of my night time ritual.. after drying my hair, puts on some cream. I feel incomplete without 4 sprays of L’heure bleue. ===== Extension 2 on Mar 17, 2024 I can't still figure it out where is L'Heure Bleue belongs in perfumery wheel. It is somewhere between Floral, Powdery Iris and Amber. Is this amber-floral?, is this florentlal? or is it touch floral woody musk? I have no idea.. at this point. But I know that I enjoy her company every night. I love the fact that all my bedsheet and pillow smells like softly L'Heure Bleue. Because the scent I spray on my body and cloth transfer to them. And I feel cocooning comfort every time I get into the night. I am starts to wonder.. that Fragrance venturer can enjoy certain this much.. But, yes I do.. now. my 100 ml. bottle from 2017 having quite a gap now. 10ml. has been usage to pamper myself every night since last day of January 2024 and I feel like other scent doesn't really matter but L'Heure Bleue. L'Heure Bleue is a piece of mine. ===== Extension 3 on July 9, 2024 I have used half of my bottle now. The scent is very open up than the first time I used, details is more perceive same as my feeling. Dew carnation and powdery heliotrope, the floral waltz, spicy warm ballroom, woody sandalwood. It is still and remains hug in the bottle. The note dancing in the different time, until it end with powdered skin. When I lost.. I always come back to L’heure Bleue as affirmation. Yeah, my feeling always the same. As body couldn’t lie. I love L’heure Bleue. ===== Extension 4 on Aug 6, 2025 I don't ever think there will be an another extension on L'Huere Bleue. As most feeling stay the same as is. But here. I am on my last 10 ml. of my first bottle, still I have another 4 bottles back me up. They are all 2017 version tho., I do depart from this L'heure Bleue. But I definitely register how perfume should be, like how my body determine a good perfume. My current palette develop into an L'heure Bleue-Estique. Concoction of Carnation and Spicy Clove, on powdered Sweet Powdered Amber, slight balsam Labdanum-y. L'heure Bleue always a place I come back. It doesn't feel like home but it like an evaluation (check-point; kind of). and affirmative statement when I need. And it always never fail. Current 2017 feels slight flat to my current nose right now. But I think that define, how nose can develop... So I come back to L'heure Bleue once a month or two. But.. I walk a market during the weekend. There is a vintage shop. And I found Guerlain box, it's big. As I stay in Thailand. I think it definitely a Mitsouko. (You know Mitsouko flood South-East Asia from Japan). A shock when I open it and found L'huere Bleue. And.. again another freeze, when I found it is a falcon from 1930 in seal condition. I rest for a night and can't shake my mind of this (probably) most dateable and well preserve bottle I could ever get my hand on. So I went back and brought, it cost USD280. A French guy, name Pascal. Told me a Granny from French decide to sell her vintage fragrance.. How in a million daylight that I could walk to a way I never walk. Just to notice a bottle of Guerlain, and in the last bid on earth, To be a well preserved L'Heure Bleue from 1930s. Just to land on my hands. ... L'Heure Bleue might be a fragrance that find you.

LIFE STARTS AT DUSK L'Heure Bleue - the blue hour - was born in 1912 by the hands and nose of Jacques Guerlain. The era was pre-1st war, the impressionist age, the crazy years, and the industrial revolution with its bourgeoisie starting the revelry in the blue hour... the dusk. It is a floral oriental fragrance with the dusky scent of candies and almond cake (by the strong heliotrope) bought in an old-world apothecary (due to its powdery accord). Of the fantastic feminine trio I have labelled as minimally unisex - Shalimar, Jicky, and L'Heure Bleue - the latter has the less masculine facet. The opening presents us with anise liquorice, too fleeting for my will, and that surrenders to the somewhat intense florals, with emphasis on the iris and violet (with its characteristic powder), the heliotrope (smelling like almond and vanilla), and for the clove (with a clove-like spicy scent). The spices are in the background - cloves, cinnamon, and tonka - rounding off the sweetness of the floral notes. Sandalwood, benzoin, and vanilla stand out later, and ensure a long and pleasant dry down, leaving the fragrance more unisex. The performance is quite generous. Three spays are good enough for ten hours, with a sillage up to six feet and close to three hours of projection. I have used this perfume in the middle of a group of people and for several times. I aroused curiosity and heard comments about wearing an elegant perfume that stood out among the reigning masculine ambroxan. I confess to have been very pleased with my choice whenever I used L'Heure Bleue. In a woman, this perfume invariably draws everyone's attention for its oriental warmth, and spices charm framing the floral notes. It is a true masterpiece. How can I measure this twilight scent? ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ - Opening: 8.5 (semi-fresh sweet opening with anise and florals) - Dry Down: 9.5 (long, more unisex bottom and dry down, with sweet spices and sandalwood) - Longevity: 9.0 (3 sprays can last up to 10 hours) - Sillage: 8.0 (up to 6 feet with 3 sprays; it projects for 3.0 hours) - Uniqueness: 9.5 (It has its own individuality that has been sustained for more than 100 years now. I don't recall any similar fragrance besides its flankers, the older Après L'Ondée also by Guerlain, and, in a lesser degree, Esprit d'Oscar by Oscar de la Renta) - Wearability: 9.0 (Almost a four seasons fragrance for outdoors or indoors, day or night; avoid the hot summer days) - Versatility: 8.5 (A compelling oriental near unisex fragrance; excellent for a wide number of occasions even if its class and sensuality demand formal events. Very adequate for intimacy only if used by a woman. Don't use it in the gym or in the beach) - Compliments: 8.5 (You will smell very good to everybody, and people will admire you; My classification reflects the average of my opinions: 8.0 for a man and 9.0 for a woman) - Quality: 10.0 (well above-average quality ingredients, good flask, nice sprayer; handy refill bottles) - Presentation: 9.0 (very good presentation, in my opinion, although quite feminine... but it is a feminine fragrance after all) - Price: 8.0 (EdP 75 ml non-tester for € 55.00 + shipping on sale. Price of this flask usually starts at € 70.00) ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ Overall rating: 8.86 / 10.00 - between 7 and 8 = above average; - between 8 and 9 = recommended; - greater than 9 = do not miss; My recommendation: This is a fragrance landmark, more feminine than masculine. I do recommend it for ladies. I can only recommend it for men after testing it and never as blind buy. Music: Charles Aznavour - "Que C ́Est Triste Venise"

The most reflective, melancholic scent I have ever worn. If you are sad, it is not the moment to test this vintage beauty for the first time! If you are happy and outgoing, it still might not be your scent. A particularly lovely scent suitable for the reflective introvert, NOT prone to depression. ;) Not pretty, not smiling, not even cute. She is elegant, secretive, and elusive. You must also love the classic 'Geurlainade' blend, for she has that same DNA. Not precisely seductive, but on the right skin absolutely addictive! I get hugged a lot while wearing this fragrance, and I do think it has a decided allure of it's own. TIME TRAVEL. You have entered another era altogether, one in which ladies wore clocked stockings and had not even heard of 'panty hose'. One where young ladies could still choose between becoming a debutante and a suffragette! One where makeup is considered slightly scandalous but worn secretively anyway... by the sophisticated. In short, another world altogether. When first testing L'Heure Bleu I had a sense of deep appreciation but also curious puzzlement. Would I WANT to smell this way? But shortly after love took over - and it was a quick flight to passionate desire. Cravings for a scent this complex and unique are hard to explain but easy to justify. There IS nothing else like the elegant, mysterious, enchanting dynamics of this beauty. Though actually, there ARE scents in the same family! L'Heure de Nuit has the same DNA but a much brighter and happier personae, thanks to the dominance of orange blossom. It is a modern and updated sister, without being trite or boring. An excellent choice for those seeking to love L'Heure Bleue... but not quite managing it! I am also a fond fan of Oscar de la Renta's original scent, as well as the flanker, Esprit d'Oscar. Both of these are more like cousins - the first herbal, arid, and uncompromisingly dated in the best possible way. The second heavy in mimosa/heliotrope powder, less herbal, and still arid and boudoir vintage. I have both, wear both, and like both. All of that said, if I had to choose from all of the above for a Most Memorable, Evocative, Emotional scent? L'Heure Bleue, hands down. I have the edp and recommend that version, as current edt's from Guerlain tend to be short lived. GOOD Dupes of classic Guerlains are nearly unknown and so are fakes. Tester bottles or half used bottles on ebay are likely to be the real thing, at a steep discount. Obviously, sampling is highly recommended. Guerlain counters still exist in some department stores and samples can also be ordered. Though not a blind buy, what a BEAUTIFUL buy! You must not blame yourself for disliking any scent, but to experience historical scent, L'Heure Bleue is more or less obligatory! To sum up: HIGHLY recommended, if a bit challenging.

L’Heure Bleu- The Blue Hour After my Mom had gotten through the 60’s and early 70’s with the fad fashion fragrances of the time, she moved into the beginnings of her mid-life elegance, wearing L’Heure Bleu. It was so different for me as a young teen to understand the sophistication of this new fragrance. My young nose had been in training since I was old enough to dab perfume or sprinkle bath powder, but this new and it came across harsh to me, and the “Dry-down” certainly wasn’t “everything,” at least to me. Fast forward many years. I recently had the insane fortune of buying a a “Holy Grail” Bouchon Coeur crystal flask (inverted heart,) Baccarat etched, sealed, (original baudruchage / gold thread,) 75 ml bottle of L’Heure Bleu Extrait, and its 50 ml side kick, a vintage bottle of L’Heure Bleu EDP. It was with these purchases that my own personal infatuation with L’Heure Bleu began. I shall never realize the incredible beauty of the vintage LB Extrait from my own bottle as I can’t bear the thought of “ruining” her perfection, but I am wearing my first LB EDP and re-discovering what an Elegant & timeless beauty L’Heure Bleu really is, as my nose has continued a long and enjoyable fragrance journey through out my life. What L’Heure Bleu is to me: -it starts bright, cheerful and softly spicy, like a cozy softly spiced cup of Chai tea served with a lemon scone drizzled with glaze at a French Patisserie to start the day. - as my day continues, I find myself strolling through the French, sidewalk flower market stalls, enjoying the gloriously fragrant and colorful Heliotrope, the sharp tang of Dianthus, sweet Neroli, Rose and a freshly crushed violet leaf. Such staggering, breath taking, olfactory beauty. “How to choose?” I silently contemplate, which ones will come home with me this day? -as the suns rays grow long my fragrant foray concludes as my senses calmly softening while sinking deeply into my cozy, blue Iris print chair. I’m intentionally breathing deeply, sensual wafts of Tonka, Benzoin, Vanilla pod, rare sandalwood, and fragrant vetiver emanating from a pomander that I freshly filled, sitting on a side table next to my chair. It is then I note that the tall, blue Iris from the flower market have blended perfectly with the blue hue of the evening. An absolutely L’Heure Bleu “perfection” moment. It is then, when the melancholy of missing my Mom and her signature scent, L’Heure Bleu fragrance sets in. This scent evokes many memories, of great maternal love, good family remembrances, all the while exuding the pain from her loss. It is at that point that my “L’Heure Bleu day fades, as beautifully as it began.

To me, it is true that L'Heure Bleue Eau de Parfum is more of a mood than it is just a fragrance. Top notes almost smell medicinal. The anise, bergamot and lemon give it a squeeze of citrus. Coriander and neroli give it a green hue. After about fifteen minutes you get the heart notes - all flowers mixed with a hint of clove. Roses, jasmine - flowers flowers flowers! A garden of your favorite blossoming flowers! All intertwined with cloves and something else that you just can't yet identify. But it is familiar. Then the scent rises up a bit - which reminds me of a campfire at dusk. Someone must have thrown a piece of wood into the fire that gives off a smell of sacred sweet insence. Almost like frankincense but it isn't that at all. Maybe it is the sandalwood, I don't know. The bottom notes listed here are benzoin, musk, tonka bean, orchid, iris, vanilla and vetiver. I never really smell the vanilla - but I know it is there. It is like a hidden signature in a piece of art. It says "Guerlain!" The vetiver is what i think brings it all together to make it a mood - yes, the end of day - dusk. The mossy damp green of the evening dew on leaves. The end of a beautiful yet bittersweet day. Was that one log somehow sprinkled with vetiver? The fire is almost out, only glowing embers remain. Both the joy and the tears of the day are mixed. They are there in your heart and you won't forget this day. They are what slowly rose up in the smoke from that one special, fragrant log. The smoke has clung to you, your clothes, your tent. The scent right there that lingers, will always bring the dusk of that day back to you for a few fleeting seconds - like some crazy time machine. The next year when you unpack that coat you wore or the tent you pitched will have that fragrance on it. Fragrances do that - scents of all kinds bring all kinds of memories flooding back. Except that this is not an exact memory of mine - but it could have been. Of course we all have days like this but - it is like this fragrance painted a picture, or directed a film in my mind and it was real enough to cause emotions! That is what L'Heure Bleue does. So how does this perfume do that if you are only smelling it for the first time? That is the magic of Jaques Guerlain who seems to be able to capture anything and put it in a bottle. Go ahead and open that bottle. Have a walk in the woods towards a campfire at dusk while this gentle feeling of "the blues" glides through you - and I you will see what I mean. I wish Jaques Guerlain had figured out how to get a real genie in a bottle. He probably could have. Maybe he did!

Another purchase inspired by Turin and Sanchez’s perfume books, and of course the quest to sample all the Guerlain greats. Sadly I could only lay my hands on a contemporary bottle with the juice In a startling radioactive shade of yellow, so I expected this incarnation to align more with Sanchez’s updated review on the current formulation of it being a ‘pretty stranger’ who, though in no way resembling the girl I once loved, nonetheless has dementedly waltzed into my life trying to convince me that It is indeed her. No matter, I never knew the original, so the pretty stranger might yet become my new love with no prior comparisons to contend with. Synaesteticaly L’heure Bleue is more L’heure Fuchsia; less Parisian twilight and more Bali Hai in that scene in 1958’s South Pacific. The first spray is an ambush of neon-bright white florals, in particular a septum-searing dirty Jasmine which is both a headspace floral (quite akin to Molinard’s Jasmine) and very reminiscent of flower stalls selling garlands during a Hindu festival. Its timbre is further escalated by The creamy carnal sweetness of the ylang, maybe the tuberose, though tuberose as I know it seems almost demure by comparison, and only begins to reveal its more voluptuous side in tandem with the Tonka-vanilla-benzoin guerlain base in the drydown - that soft edible gournmand facet that Luca Turin often cites as the most pleasurable aspect of a classic guerlain, irresistible from an intimate distance and an hour after initial application. It will be an hour before it reaches that soothing stage, though here it retains a certain carroty spikiness rather than languishing into a soft powder, and I think one will have to like Jasmine quite a bit at close quarters to enjoy the reckless, wind-in-your-hair, convertible ride to that destination; yes it is a sexy ride. What has become a revelation to me however in my mental join-the-dots game of perfumery, is discovering that final destination, Guerlain-ville, the Ithaca of the Nose, in its family of classics, from peppy Jicky to Debonair Mouchoir de Monsieur to L’Heure Bleue to the great Shalimar. The conveyance is always different but it always ends in comfort and familiarity, even if you have just experienced It. It also made me re-evaluate the drydown that my perennial favourite, Penhaligon’s Tralala, was going for - less Shalimar and more L’Heure Bleue... the powdery lilac-hued violets so predominant in Tralala are the logical progression of L’Heure Bleue’s dazzling fuchsia, slowly fading in intensity as it is tamed by the passage of time.

Ah, such spell-binding mystique from this classic fragrance. A truly poetic experience. The one thing "melancholy" to me about L'Heure Bleue is that I'll likely never be able to smell her in her original, vintage form, unless I get lucky. Between regulations, reformulations, changing tastes and changing times, I am certain that this 2019 edp bottle I own is a ghost of her former self. Guerlain wanted this to convey a blue moment of dusk mingled with the smell of flowers on his walks. If I had smelled L'Heure Bleue without knowing the opinions of others, it would have never conveyed sadness so much as it does genuine, old-fashioned artistry and quality. So, as for this "sad and melancholy", no - not to me. It certainly does evoke emotion, though, and for me that emotion is wonderment; wonderment, in the way that I ponder the twinkling of the stars and the grace of the moon. Overall, I really can't think of a more genius blend of florals and spices such as this. As many others have stated, the magic is in how it changes while you wear it. It is a spicy floral orchestra from the get-go, and it's simply gorgeous. As it wears on, it gets tolerably powdery, but much smoother as the florals somehow manage to become darker. L'Heure Bleue is comforting in the way a hand-knit cashmere shawl around your shoulders would be. Lasting power is fantastic, and the sillage dependent on how light or heavy your hand is. Sure, L'Heure Bleue could smell very dated when you're in a perpetual haze of gourmands and fruity florals, as we have been for the past 20 years. Our tastes vary, and what we get out of something can be very subjective... But this is very much like taking a Rennaissance painting out in a gallery full of modern art. Modern art is easy to get along with, but the master craftsmanship of the Rennaissance piece is unmistakably superior.

L’Heure Bleue was created in 1912, so it has the built-in nostalgia factor of a bygone era, especially poignant for being before the World Wars. But its nostalgia value for me is more personal. I wanted to try LHB, loving its name and image, but I was expecting to hate it. It features anise and carnation, two of my most-detested notes. And I did indeed loathe it the first time I tried it–visions of mothballs danced through my head. What changed? I don’t know. I’m not even sure why I bothered trying it again. But then... ...still anise, still carnation, but I found them unsettling in a weirdly pleasant way. This was alienation in a bottle. For some reason, it reminded me vividly of a field trip in the fourth grade. The only thing I remember about the trip was the bus ride home. It was winter, and the sun was almost down at 4:30. I was the new kid in school (my radio-announcer stepfather moved us to a new city almost yearly) and had no friends. I was lonely and misunderstood and self-pitying. It was, well, the kind of time you write about later. LHB’s sharp powdery opening then swirls into flowers and powder and smoke, beautiful in a blue-gray sort of way, like the unhappy memory once you’ve had time to process and make sense of it (and perhaps recast it in a more appealing light). And then...the happy ending. The scent changes to golden vanilla with an almondy cast, as if you end your journey in a brightly-lit kitchen, filled with the smells of your grandmother’s baking (rather than the smells of my mother’s wine-inflected sauces–appetizing, but not perfume material). Or, to change metaphors, the effect of the sun still glowing on the horizon, giving hope to mortals.

Of all the fragrances in Guerlain's current line up, this is the best exemplification of the Guerlinade at present, not denying Jicky and Shalimar their worth but they do have a whole lot else going on with them. And the yesteryears saw the release of a fragrance named Guerlinade (1921, 1924, the release dates are a bit conflicted), but that is now a relic preserved in the flagship boutique. At first spray, L'Heure Bleue (released in 1912) gives you the impression of being transported to the boudoir of say your hôtel particulier in Paris, at the height of La Belle Époque (1871 - 1914). You sit bereft of all your clothes, pressing a fairly large and ornate powder puff into a container that is full of a glorious smelling talcum, you dab this onto your skin and take in the redolent powdery whiff of the hefty iris butter, heliotrope (which is what makes this so powdery smooth), violet, benzoin, tonka, vanilla commixture, supported by decadent spices and carnation which give it that slight nose piercing bite. The sandalwood and musk become increasingly evident as it delves into its dry down, and you finally discover for yourself the 'sweet stink' of perfumery of the old, the raunchy and suggestive dry down, indicative of the debauchery and the passion of the turbulent nights... This is the very best of French perfumery, the pinnacle of superb craftsmanship and a monument to the creative genius that was Jacques Guerlain. Many will tell you this is a melancholic elixir, to them I say, "All things beautiful have a little sadness to them, for it is from this sadness they derive their beauty".

I have almost 500 perfume bottles and am trying hard to find a way to, you know, downsize. Reign it all in. It's getting out of hand. When I wear the old Guerlains Shalimar, Vol de Nuit, Mitsouko, Chamade, Chant d'Aromes, L'Heure Bleue, and for good measure my signature Samsara, sometimes I think I can just be vintage lady and bask only in these masterpieces of Olfactive Art. There's too much to say about L'Heure Bleue so I'll try to keep it pertinent to my latest wear. I love L'Heure Bleue during these (unseasonably) warm days that feel like early spring, the sun feels warm in the afternoon but when it drops the wind turns cool and mentholated, the sun has a long cast, and while the ambiance is fresh and hopeful this parfum is not, it smells sweet and spicy, the Anise verges on cherry like sweetness, but with a spicy licorice undertone, coriander and lemon brighten things up with a scent of sharp kitchen herbs, and the floral bouquet, on so lovely, clovey carnations, sweet purple heliotrope, roses, and probably more but the cloved carnation heliotrope is dominant, if the bouquet had a color scheme it would be purple and pink -- with flecks of brown for the spices. The drydown is woody and almost grainy with iris, sandalwood, vanila/benzoin, vetiver, it's strange because L'Heure Bleue has a suggestion of handcream behind it all but since this is an old scent the drydown is so pleasantly woody too. This scent is an experience to wear and I'm so grateful to have it on my shelf. Thank you Guerlain! (This is based on a vintage eau de cologne.)

Guerlain is easily my favourite perfume house. I have 15 fragrances from them and love them all equally (except the hype monster that is/was L'Homme Ideal Cologne, which I was literally completely nose blind to!?). What I love about the house is that it's unapologetically a perfume house first and a commercial designer second. For this reason, Guerlain's best fragrances do not easily slip into the 'generic, office friendly, sweet-gourmand, blue freshie' categories that (too) many contemporary releases end up as. Guerlains best fragrances could perhaps be described as 'challenging' to the modern nose. They aren't designed to be immediately appealing, but are designed with conceptual awareness - like a piece of artwork, to captivate, intrigue, be open to interpretation and Guerlain's L'Heure Bleue does this effortlessly. It is no wonder this was Queen Elizabeth II favourite perfume. It is at once sophisticated but mysterious, captivating but cryptic, enticing but remote, cosy but cold. It is a scent that you spray and cannot stop smelling, going back to your wrist for another intoxicating inhalation. It is a fragrance to be savoured like a good, full bodied red wine, like Jickly, heritage and Shalimar, it cannot immediately be described but needs to be experienced. Like its heady cousin Mitsouko, L'Heure Bleue is a must in any serious fragrance collection along with many others from this wonderful, traditional, creative and innovative house. Put simply Guerlain IS the 'perfumers perfumer'.

Vintage dusk perfume, A representative of the soft oriental tone, Accompanied by Recuerdos de La Alhambra. L'Heure Bleue, inspired by Coty L'Origan, is a variation of Apes L'Ondee. It was Jacques Guerlain who changed the instruments used from the piano to the violin. Similar smells, different moods. It belongs to that category -- the most, the romantic traditional French perfume. The essence of L'Heure Bleue is warm and matches the deserted streets. As part of the Guerlain family's memory, Jean-Paul Guerlain recalls that L'Heure Bleue turned out to be a gift from Jacques Guerlain to his wife Lily, and later became Lily's signature perfume. Old EDT, the spice that gives priority to waking up the sense of smell is anise. The base of the tonka Bean beans retreated to the last, the lris, neroli, violet , vanilla. These four main elements, mixed at the tip of my nose, are interwoven into a cloud of blue-purple. When the clouds are foggy, you get a very sweet smell. It's really fluffy. Heliotrope and mimosa, Each version has a powdery texture of almonds, and my favorite is the old EDT. The new version of EDP is still very good, although unlike in the past, there is a fuzzy soft light. The smog's mesmeristic feel is unique to L'Heure Bleue and is jacques Guerlain's style, logo creation. Now it's changed, the lines are clear. The old version of the mood can not be replaced, the new version is just a more in line with the current trend of "clothes." I don't think it's a pastry.

I finally get it! I have been sitting on a bottle of L’Heure Bleue EdP for about 5 years. It was a blind buy out of sheer curiosity. I couldn’t find it anywhere in my country to test before I purchased it. I am ashamed to admit I disliked it. I appreciated the artistry; I loved the bottle and the history. But wearing it made me feel so uncomfortable. I always picked up on a “non-sweet, sugar free marshmallow dipped in an herbal tincture” note that just turned my stomach and ruined it for me. Up until a few weeks ago. I don’t know what exactly changed, but now it is the softest, most beautiful and feminine scent on me. It is powdery, it reminds me a little bit of vintage make up. I don’t get the weird marshmallow note on my skin anymore. I pick up on the iris note the most. The heliotrope is there, but it blends beautifully with the rest of the scent. There is something a tiny bit bitter and medicinal that I am not familiar with, but that note adds a subtle depth to the perfume. The benzoin and vanilla create a sweet and warm base. The vanilla is not sugary, it is more reminiscent of vanilla pods than the normal gourmand icing sugar vanilla of today’s perfumes. I am so glad I did not give up on this beauty. It is absolutely not modern; this is extremely vintage and “dated” in the best possible way. I really love this perfume. This is a romantic snap shot from the past, I feel so feminine and beautiful when I wear this.

My perfume love of my life. It took so long for me to get the proper motivation to write this review on it because I didn't and still do not have the right words to express my love for it. I fell in love and wore this perfume when I was a young 18 year old young American woman in Prague with my first love who I adored very much who is now, as these things happen, out of my life. It reminds me of young me in a romantic atmosphere who was so full of life, hope, and aspiration. This is the kind of feeling this perfume evokes and it is how it makes me still feel. Although now I am older and more cynical, it is now also tinged with a bit of melancholy. So now to get down to how it actually smells. What is cool about L'heure Bleue (I call it Blue Hour because my French pronunciation is ghastly and embarrassing), is that it's no longer an "old lady" perfume. I also hate the term old lady, but I say this so that you know what I mean. The women who wore this perfume when they were young girls and this perfume came out are not alive. So this perfume has the power to transcend generations. It's powdery iris and anise are gorgeous. I also think this perfume leans slightly gothic. This perfume is the essence of the house of Guerlain in my eyes along with Mitsouko and Shalimar. I'd absolutely die and go to heaven for the extrait and am mourning the fact the U.S. store now only sells the anemic EDT...

Bottle Code: 7x02, 2017 Batch This is one of my signature fragrances, and it truly was "Love at First Scent" for me. When I think of Guerlain's "House Fragrance" I think of L'heure Bleue. I purchased this fragrance alongside Mitsuoko, and I like to think of Mitsuoko as the golden hour that fades into the melancholic dusk of twilight that is L'heure Bleue. Many focus on the color blue, which describes the emotional state, but to me that is only a small part of this fragrance. To me, it conceptualizes the paradoxical essence of nostalgia. The essence of time and its unrelenting and unyielding progression. I once read somewhere that the word "nostalgia" was derived from the greek roots of "Path" and "To Look Back". The compound word was an effort to describe the painful yearning of one's ability to look back at their path of life,l while never being able to go back. And I think this idea is well represented here, in this olfactory orchestration of life and death as two necessary sides of the same human experience. This fragrance is not quite nightfall. It is that transient space of complexity where the warm embrace of the day still lingers, but with an un-ignorable existential malaise bleeding through to urge you to seize the day because time waits for no one. It's at the same time nostalgic, and unknown. Familiar and foreign. And there is great beauty in that simple dualistic complexity.

I have just re-purchased this and am adoring having it back in my collection. It was my signature for years and I wore it through a steamy summer on the American East coast two years ago - it blooms beautifully in the heat and I highly recommend it. When unpacking last week after a house move, I came across a pack of (paper) tissues that had come with me on that trip and they still smelled of L'heure bleue - that was the longevity I needed in my life! The scent evolves a fair bit - it is a spicy fragrance and the cloves, anise and carnation take it close to the world of Nu and Opium before the scent grows more powdery and soft with the floral notes of violet, iris and heliotrope, which are once again very common in many contemporary perfumes. However, it is not a nebulous gauzy scent and it is bolstered by the orange blossom and tuberose. It becomes increasingly creamy, vanillary and delicious as time goes down without ever losing its spicy edge. The EDT is lighter and moe floral - if you are wary of the clove/carnation combination, I would go for the EDT which offers a more ethereal and pretty experience. The reviewer below says that the pure perfume is no longer available...? It is certainly available in UK and Europe in the traditional 30ml scroll bottles - I would love to have one of these for Christmas! For me, this is THE floral-oriental: spicy, soft and delicious.

There are only three perfumes I truly adore and like soldiers they march in this order: First Sergeant Guerlain L'Heure Bleue Extrait, Corporal Christian Dior Poison EDT, and Private First Class Chanel No. 5 parfum (modern version). The Extrait of LHB is my signature scent. I love it in all it's iterations, however the Extrait just transports me. If you want the powdery anise and doughy almond then douse yourself in the Extrait and succumb to it's historical beauty. It is like an entanglement with a forbidden lover: cherished moments that will only give way to memories of blue starry nights caressing under a great big sky. Only the memories will remain. Some may call it melancholic, but I disagree. It is an imprint of what we want the most, but can never have. A romance that was never meant to last forever in it's physical sense, but forever in your heart. A standard that you will hold all other lovers to. The EDP is more nebulous in it's plushness. Warm heat from a paramour's skin, a hot breath of delicious whispers of affection in your ear. The EDT is the expected goodbye. So very sudden, but what else would do. Tender fingerprints left on empty wine glasses. Folded napkins and clothes left on the cold floor. A last look onward as things come to their end. It is not sadness that you are left with, but hope. That one touch that will last a lifetime.

I started wearing L’Heure Bleue again by mistake bought an EDT instead of EDP (some shops don’t carry both but they both still exist). However I am still having half of an old bottle of EDP from around 2010. How interesting to compare them. Of course one is EDT and one is EDP and old, so starting from different formulation at basis. The EDP become a dark red concentrated liquid by now. Yet, totally same character, with the EDT much brighter on the citrus part of the opening while the coriander comes out strong in the old EDP. Then in the EDP a strong leather note comes out - very likely due to time - with violet and iris in the background while the coriander note still lingers on. For the EDT the notes remain in comparison much more green and dry throughout. I find the current EDT quite dry compared to the iris-violet-praline rather sweet and enveloping reputation of L’Heure Bleue (which comes out as such in the EDP but topped up by the very leather note (which again I think it’s due to evolution over time). Anyway, both marvelous, really deserve to be tried and worn, there is nothing old in a perfume of such majestic and unique formulation as L’Heure Bleue. And for those more afraid of the powdery leather iris depth of the L’Heure Bleue DNA the EDT can be a good compromise.

After reading those wonderful reviews I just had to blind buy L'Heure Bleue (the EdP with the blue label). The anticipation was huge and hopes were high. Yes, it is a wonderful perfume. It smells vintage and to my relief not very feminine or girly. It's very unisex (reminds me in the opening of Knize Ten or my latest obsession Carnicure by Marlou). I was so surprised that L'Heure Bleue is animalic without any musk or civet listed. I can literally smell the fur coats. Another note that I detected, when smelling directly from my wrist, that felt unusual, was menthol. I assume this is what gives the perfume a cool/cold feeling - the blue hour. A picture that comes to my mind is that of hard candies in my great aunt's apartment, where this smell was present and I remember from my childhood. After the spicy opening fades away the most delicate, dewy flower petals take the stage and stay on your clothes for several days after. I'm reminded of my mom's Blue Grass by Elizabeth Arden and a specific liquor that I must have smelled as a kid but can't quite put my finger on which... I also like the fact that Queen Elizabeth II wore this and that it's from the year 1912 - which means that passangers of Titanic might have had this fragrance on board.