L’Heure Bleue Extract

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.

I am not reviewing the vintage formulation sadly. I acquired a rather fresh batch of l’heure bleue extrait after two years of owning (and being owned by) the 2021 eau de parfum, which I deem to be the best scent of all time and the most ‘me’ perfume. And it feels like I fell in love for the first time again. LHB extrait starts opaque with a thick mist of the color indigo and tinges of dark green. It is extremely smooth, smooth in the same way as soft smoke coming from an incense stick. After a few minutes, the mist becomes just slightly clearer, revealing pale-colored violets with something dark in the background. The darkness is confusing; I truly cannot separate it as a note. It could be clove, but I don’t find cloves to smell necessarily dark. It could be something like tarragon or fennel contrasting against the innocent and soft yet heavy violet. Either way, it is enticing. It feels like I’m trying to explore my wrist with my nose, as if I’m looking for directions in this vision inhibiting indigo mist. A while later, the scent becomes less vague. A very strong yet smooth anise with a good dose of orange blossom and carnation pops up alongside the violet. This is all within the first 10 minutes of wear. The scent as a whole is dry and obviously powdery. Unlike the edp which reads very grainy and velvety, the extrait is exceptionally smooth. Like a compressed powder. The violet in this formulation also feels way more like an actual presence instead of a texture, even an hour into the wear I pick up on realistic violets. And that is novel to me, I usually experience anosmia quite fast with ionones. The orange blossom in this is also much more present and louder than in the edp. I honestly never really notice any orange blossom in the edp. I actually don’t notice a lot of things in the edp... even the benzoin in here is genuinely strong/present and not just ‘a vanillic facet’. The scent continues to develop and warm up but remains very true to itself. Theres no cheap drydown, if anything the drydown is just as layered as the opening and the middle. It just continues to develop and grow. Loud but never overwhelming, every note here plays a big role. Not a single note really takes precedence over the other in here. And that is also what makes this scent so hard to describe. This is just l’heure bleue. Nothing compares to it, and you can’t compare it to anything else. The biggest difference I get from the edp and the extrait is that the edp smells more like incense. Like a good high-quality nag champa. I don’t get the same experience in the extrait, and I think it’s the smoothness that causes this. Like I said, the edp is grainy, maybe like a powdered incense. I don’t think that’s a negative however, im glad that there is a difference between the two. The edp is already loud and long lasting so I did not buy the extrait for more performance. The drydown is also a noticeable difference. The vanilla and benzoin in here are much more full bodied and balsamic, venturing into Shalimar category which is a very welcome surprise to me. I also find this extrait to be more floral than the edp. The violet is more present, the orange blossom is more present, there’s a whisper of tuberose and the carnation feels like carnation instead of straight up clove ( Yes they smell slightly different!). All these words still can’t describe this masterpiece which is why I’m always reluctant to review l’heure bleue. I would build a time machine to stock up on bottles and scented body products. It is that important to me. Delphine Jelk will be tarnishing the name soon, which confuses me as there is no reason to call her new perfume the same as this masterpiece. But I don’t think they truly care about any of Guerlain’s legacy honestly. It’s not shocking, not everyone has an obsession with these smells, and they still need to keep the business running. I just don’t understand what the point is behind the new release. Whatever, maybe it will shock and surprise me...

I hugely admire the house of Guerlain, in particular its classic scents, and like so many fragrance enthusiasts, I collect vintage Guerlain. Shalimar may be the most iconic of all, but I have loved any vintage Guerlain that I have tried. This review is for my sealed miniature of L'Heure Bleue Parfum that is housed in a "harvest" box. Although the liquid has become quite dark over time, I was pleasantly surprised by the quality of the scent upon opening my bottle. I was expecting it to have turned, but the notes seem to be pretty intact, and the scent itself is a beauty. Rich and deep, sweetly spicy, and rounded out by powdery violet and iris, HB is a complex, feminine delight. HB opens with a surprising hint of citrus, fresh and tart, likely enhanced by the neroli in my case. It segues to an aniseed note, rounded out by soft, rich spices and some sweetness from the vanilla in the base. I don't particularly like anise, but here its inclusion is inspired, providing cohesion to the sweet and spicy notes, and complementing the scent as a whole perfectly without being overpowering. The florals emerge as it begins to dry down, with powdery iris and violet coming to the fore. Here it is dry, and the melancholy I associate with the violet-iris accord is lifted by the spicy vanilla. As it develops further, it becomes leathery and slightly animalic in the base. Tonka bean and a sweet hint of resin emerge as it dries down, complementing the sweet-spicy accord that defines HB. It has superb longevity, as to be expected from a vintage parfum, with good sillage. It fades to a spicy vanilla skin scent by the end of the day. In my opinion, L'Heure Bleue was ahead of its time. With the emphasis on vanilla and anise notes along with a serving of spice, it serves as a precursor to the current gourmand fragrance trend. Of any vintage Guerlain (or any vintage scent full stop), in my opinion, it may appeal to modern tastes most. It sure garners compliments. Another interesting thing to consider is that HB does not count now-restricted ingredients such as oakmoss or ambergris as part of its original composition. For this reason, its modern incarnation might manage to retain similarity with the original, which would be highly unusual (a pet peeve of mine is how modern versions of classic scents tend to be a shadow of their former selves). Either way, I must find a modern HB for comparison, not to mention some vintage versions in lighter concentrations. In short, L'Heure Bleue is a beautiful dichotomy of sweet and spicy, paving the way to the gourmands of today. The florals add a touch of elegant, grown-up femininity. An intriguing, timelessly beautiful scent, L'Heure Bleue is up there with my favourite Guerlains. A wonder. 5/5.

2018 DAY 1 i acquired a vintage sample of this from ebay. i over-applied, didn't realize it until i got out in public. yikes. i couldn't really smell it in the vial or on my skin. i am learning about potency of the guerlain guerlinade. when i was outside with this group of people in the humidity, i was like, "what's that smell?" uh, it was me. lord have mercy, i liked it, but need to learn how to wear it. made things worse by stopping at the antiques mall on the way home and learning the hard way about vintage mitsouko EDT. see the review there. be back day 2 cautiously applied. enjoyed the day out. went to "needless markup" (neiman marcus) to order a real bottle of EDT instead of the tiny sample vial. i don't think i gassed anyone today. Day 3 applied a goodly amount. Enjoyed the Sunday alone. Enjoyed the violets in this perfume and kept thinking of The Dowager Countess in Downton Abbey cousin violet. Smell just like Parma violets. I think a lot of the youngins that don't get this perfume don't know what Parma violets are. I think a lot of the young ones they keep referring to baby wipes don't know that smell, iris and Orris root, is that smell, and, newsflash, the perfume came first. I love the smell of the iris, orris root, and the violets just knock my socks off. Smelled wonderful while sweating and mowing the lawn with a silent non gas reel mower. Tonight post gardening bath will be the last of the extrait. Should receive EDT Monday. Found EDP on Walmart.com. they have a designer perfume section, all the guerlains!!!. Make sure vendor is Walmart or could get a counterfeit.

I’ve always loved Guerlain’s art deco crystal bottles, so when I saw a 1950s L’Heure Bleue at an antique warehouse, I snatched it up. This was mostly to fill up with newer juice and re-use, but also because some of the dark brown parfum remained at the bottom. I used most of it before mixing with the EDP. Only reason I didn’t wear all of this was the strong coumarin giving me a headache, and the orange stain left on my skin. In spite of my difficulty with it, L’Heure Bleue at high concentration is incredible, opening up like an entirely new fragrance-- the spices are woody, rugged even, in a way that reminds me of black pepper. The iris presence is gentle alongside this, and leathery in an ironically rugged, southwestern way. This stage is dry and masculine, like a pure leather cologne or Parfum d’Habit by MPG. Eventually, as this dries off, the violet and vegetal parts reveal themselves, mix with that leathery vanilla from Shalimar, and become possibly the best iris scent ever. It’s still got that soapiness I hated the first time I tried the EDP, but the heightened anise and cloves make it feel extra classy, even a little sultry. I can only imagine how amazing this must have smelled new. By drydown, it ends up wearing the same as the modern formula, but the experience of having everything unfurl gradually on my skin has really deepened my connection to this scent. It’s powdery and intimate, not something that grabs attention, but makes me smile as I catch wafts of it throughout the day.