Reviews of L'Heure Bleue (1912)
by Guerlain

Warm spicy Neroli top notes,a mix of flowers at dusk,the heat of the day is passed ,but the mix of scents lingers in the darkening sky.

The soft vanilla base is a perfect blanket for these flowers to rest upon.

It may be stuck in its time,but that time is now .

The olfactory equivalent of a sigh. Powdery, floral, moderately indolic, and unabashedly "perfumey," L'Heure Bleue is an archetypical classic women's fragrance. The white flowers here are spiked with a bittersweet, somewhat sharp, and (yes,) nocturnal flourish that seems to evoke a melancholic reverie in some wearers.

Unfortunately, for all its transporting beauty and emotional power, L'Heure Bleue seems not to have aged well. Whenever I smell it I'm left feeling that it's somehow stuck in its own time, and not all that relavant to modern life. It is a scent that I admire, but do not enjoy.

It seems to me that manufacturers of pink liquid soap for public bathrooms hijacked this fragrance long ago. Unfortunately, that is all I smell when I put on my sample of L'Heure Bleue pure parfum. I am upset. I've been trying for a full year to "get" this perfume. I adore the Guerlains, especially Jicky. I do not want to miss out on a sublime experience because some sanitary products manufacturer decided to mimic the basic notes of L'Heure Bleue in cheap soap. How can I erase my memory of college dormitory bathrooms in the 1980s? Believe me, I sniff the beauty that is there. But the imagery soon runs pink and notes of carnation and iris are replaced by notes of Howard Jones and Peter Cetera. Someone ruined this perfume for me, and I am angry. I'd like to get my L'Heure Bleue-scented hands on him. Mind you, I'm going to keep trying to appreciate this gorgeous scent for what it is -- and always was -- before someone cheapened it. But I know I'm not alone in my assessment, as my college roommates have affirmed that this stuff smells like the hand soap we used back then. I could almost cry, knowing I am deprived of a masterpiece because my own brain will not allow me to get past youthful sensory impressions. Help, if you can.

Although I love Shalimar, I do not like L'Heure Bleue at all. It smells like medicine, and I had to laugh-someone said "their dead aunt"...I get that. I gave it points, however, for being a classic and a cousin to Shalimar. There was something in there that I respected although I couldn't put my nose on it. Perhaps the vanilla. Also, it is clear how this parfume would bring forth such emotions & I was drawn into the beautiful writings about the perfume...I try not to read until AFTER I test. L'Heure Bleue is one of a kind, no argument.

I must not have the chemistry for this -- it never comes off as very complex on me, just a long sustained carnation note that eventually dries down into powdery vanilla. Nice, but not remarkable.

L'Heure Bleue is the smell of angst and sorrow. It depresses me, though I recognize its beauty. It's The Unbearable Lightness of Being in a bottle...beautiful, yet hopeless. The carnation note sets me over the edge as carnations carry sad memories. I truly appreciate L'Heure Bleue, because there's no other fragrance in the world with its particular influence on emotion, but I cannot wear it.