L'Heure Bleue (1912)
by Guerlain

This is the most dramatic of the esteemed trio of early 20th century Guerlain classics, the others being Shalimar and Mitsouko, of course. Shalimar is the darkly beautiful stunner. Mitsouko is the eclectic. L'Heure Bleue is the somewhat moody drama student, who is quite stunning herself, but doesn't intentionally draw attention to her beauty, as there are other things to attend to.

L'Heure opens with a distinct bready/pastry note that reminds me of the slightly yeasty opening of Mitsouko, but in a more dessert-like form, due to the anise and a note reminiscent of almond butter. Plush, somewhat indolic florals create a powdery makeup-like backdrop, and envelop the opening in a light animalic cloak which is a strangely "cool" and medicinal, as opposed to the furry warmth of most animalic scents.

There is a hint of melancholy here, but I do not find that it dominates the scent. Perhaps a sad event has happened, and this is acknowledged by that dusty, wilted, almost decaying note that is more obvious in Mitsouko, but here the message seems to be to keep calm and carry on, and try to enjoy the little things. Have a pastry.

Despite the hint of melancholy, it is a very bright opening overall, and its utterly unique notes are felt well into the heart, as more traditionally florientall powdery notes begin to dominate. Even then, this is a cool, aloof powder, likely due to the relatively strong presence of iris. Never does L'Heure Bleue lose its character. It just seems to relax on the skin: the indoles dampen, the make-up and pastry note becomes a delicious memory.

The overall sense of coolness never leaves entirely, but it feels natural despite the ordinarily warm oriental structure. Instead of being cozily nested by the fire on a winter night, L'Heure Bleue is out wandering in streets, feeling the prick of the cold against her face, but not really noticing, because she is pondering some deep thought.

Unisex. Great longevity and sillage. Exquisite creation.

7th November, 2011.

Interestingly I don't find this perfume to be really depressing and I'm a little surprised at all the people who say that their mood is instantly dragged down by it! Mind you, I have heard that some people believe there is a connection between fragrance and "color season." They say that certain people are "dragged down" by certain colors too. (sky blue actually drains my energy and makes me feel depressed.) So I can imagine that smells can have the same effect. Plus, the sense of smell is also supposed to be the one sense that is mostly closely linked to memories, and therefore triggers memories very easily. All of these things could easily explain why so many people say they are depressed by this perfume.
Interestingly, they say that Queen Elizabeth II wears L'Heure Bleue. Supposedly her personality type is ISFJ. I am also an ISFJ, and I also don't mind this perfume. You may have to have that personality type to really like this. :)
That said, I still kind of think I might prefer Shalimar and/or Mitsouko to this perfume. I like the powdery notes in L'Heure Bleue but when it dries down pretty much all I can smell is a very sweet amber fragrance which I might get tired of after a while. I definitely get fed up with the extreme sweetness of Samsara. Mind you, I think this smells a bit better than Samsara, but I'm still not sure if I would buy a whole bottle of this.

12nd October, 2011.

I bought a vintage EDT bottle of L'heure Bleue at a flea market last week. I didn't really expect to want to wear it, but I thought it would look nice in my collection. I was pleasantly surprised by this gorgeous fragrance. Even though the bottle is nearly half a century old and it being an EDT, it is still very potent, and I love its deep, powerful and almost spiritual scent.

10th October, 2011.

It used to be my absolute favourite since I was nineteen, I was fascinated by a miraculous fragrance, its unique personality and the strong sense of the epoque. Nothing could be even compared with it, my first and strongest love. I was spending my bottle drop by drop, years passed, I was growing older and so was the perfume, older but never obsolete. A friend of mine made me a gorgeous gift, bringing a new bottle from the Guerlain store in Paris; I opened it impatiently and tried immediately; now I'm literally in tears - what the hell have they done to a genuine miracle?! This cheap sweetness, where it comes from? What's wrong with their noses? I'm sure mine doesn't lie to me: it's a fraud, it has NOTHING to do with my beloved perfume, it's a street whore stealing the crown and the name. L'heure bleue is dead, R.I.P. I'll never buy one again.

7th October, 2011.

Of course, L'heure bleue is kind of sweet and powdery. A mixture of carnation, iris, tonka, benjoin, tuberose and vanilla with just a hint of anise will do that. Nevertheless, this great Guerlain classic has a lot of class and personality. As much as I hate the "gourmand" perfumes à la Thierry Mugler, I love L'heure bleue with a passion. Obviously, not every one can handle such a rich fragrance but those who can will make some heads turn.

6th September, 2011.

I became interested in LHB because my favorite author, Jean Rhys, was said to love this fragrance. For those who are not familiar with her, she lived in early 1900s Paris and would've known the original formulation.

For me, LHB is the most depressing fragrance I have ever worn and owned. Ever. I am literally instantly depressed when I wear LHB so I avoid it, but still own it because of its historic significance and because Jean Rhys loved it. LHB should come with a depression warning because it really is that bad, "can cause extreme depression in some individuals..." I know a lot of people like it and am glad it works for them, but when I've worn it I am somehow transported to the most depressing place and mood. Some have described LHB as a melancholy fragrance and I find that to be an apt descpription. I have recently discovered Insolence and find this to be an infinitely more wearable granddaughter of LHB.

4th September, 2011.