Reviews of L'Heure Bleue (1912)
by Guerlain

It has taken me 40 years to discover that this, indeed, is the fragrance I was born to wear. I was just too young when I first wore it. Next, I was too smart, careful and fragile. After that, I was too busy. Deaf to the hidden words. But now though - ah. That sigh. Those quiet smiles. The soft, elusive, exquisite moments. The fleeting visions of old friends. I've come home.

I am in my late thirtees and classical music is my first choice from the beginning of my twenties. I am none of a modern lady, prefers to wear dresses and have nothing solid geometric in home design. So when i began to read and get fascinated about fragrances, i was intrested in the classicals most. I live in small city so have no chance to try these here so i bought le heure bleu and mitsouko online.
I thought i had no chance to dislike them as i am not a kind of person that would not appreciate a fine Baroque Suite. But the nose does not work as the ear does. At the first try i have sadly noticed that i know that old type neroli too well and i hate it…. Bad and the good thing about smelling is that smells memory is packed together with the limbic recordings of the moments.
L heure bleu is not a complicated fragrance. To my nose it opens with neroli (reminds me the old heavy arabic incense that my grangrandaunt used all together with her friends venerable old men and the pilgrim ladies) then a bit carnation (smell of the white soaps my grandmother used to aromatize the sheets) and then a very bit of vanilla? No vanilla. Neroli murders carnation and does not let even the first breath of vanilla.

Some say the best advice for life ahead that a child can be given is ‘be particular’. It is advice that can be applied to most situations, if you think about it, and had we followed it, the less than auspicious choices some of us made could have been avoided. Not to mention - as an example, I would not have the hundreds of bottles of perfume I now have. I would have stopped with L’Heure Bleue, in the parfum, and that would have been it, which might have been kind of a shame, come to think of it, but, oh my, I’d be so elegant! I did first sniff L’Heure Bleue when I was very young, and was mesmerized to find that my favorite time of day could be captured with a bottle of perfume. Then, evening meant quiet air, night-scented flowers, wood smoke, the first planets in the sky, and being safely home with my parents. My evenings now are very different but the wonderful thing is that a dab of L’Heure Bleue parfum still captures them. Within its familiar and comforting embrace is a metallic blue steel edge that meshes well with city lights, hard rock, and cool companions. It’s an encapsulation of the introspective moment at day’s end when we’re at peace with who we are and are willing to be swept into whatever passions the coming dark brings us.

Its blend of florals and warm notes with the coolness of the heliotrope and iris was genius. I think it’s an anytime, anywhere, anyone, fragrance; it’s a beautiful will-o’-wisp that survives in a world soaked in heavy artificial and cloying sweetness.

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 .

Sharp. Medicinal. Powdery. Overly sweet. If I'd stuck with the reviews, I would not have purchased this unsniffed, but I'm so glad I did! I don't even know what made this my first blind fragrance purchase, but the moment I smelled it I knew it was the perfume for me. It is, quite simply, bottled sophistication and confidence. Its unabashed neroli and bergamot top notes are presented without the usual apologetic citrus notes to brighten it. Instead of a lemon- or grapefruit-induced sparkle, this fragrance glides like a snake with hips. It is classified as a floral oriental, but there is an unusual dark, confident, sultry note that removes it completely from the dreaded grandma's-powdered- flowery scent I feared. Vanilla keeps it rounded, but it maintains its character all the way through to the fabulous woodsy-iris drydown. It has depth, subtlety, and presence from beginning to end.

Incredible! A treasure,not easy to love though, but one of those that , once you have tried you can´t live without.A classic,like a jaguar ,like Harrison Ford before he met Calista F,like an artist in Paris,like an old movie you could see again and again.
Very french and chic after so many years,elegant and....mine,mine,mineee.

Time has moved on but truth remains ever the same. This new complicated world only obscures inner beauty The fleeting grasp of contact is lost in the mist.

Some hearts were destined to synchronise across the ages, but only for long enough to feel the pain of eternal separation. Everything now is concrete and steel, the soft touch but a distant memory talked of in hushed tones by the older generation.

I am a man born out of time, and in my time my woman wore L'Heure Bleue.

Deliciously melancholic, this rings of opportunities lost, liaisons missed and unrequited love. I wear it because you don't.

A very early and innovative floral-oriental style fragrance that has become a truly distinctive classic. The fragrance was created by Jacques Guerlain in 1912 as a tribute to the painters of the impressionist paintings he was a keen collector of. In fact, L'Heure Bleue (meaning 'the blue hour') is a reference to the special hour at dusk when the light seems blue and the smell of the flowers in and around the city of Grasse reaches its peak. The phrase is also used to refer to the city of Paris immediately prior to World War I, which was considered to be a time of relative innocence before the horrors that were to follow. Although much akin to Après l'Ondée in its gourmand pastry and almond core, L'Heure Bleue is much less bright and more spicy. Especially the Parfum-version is dominated by the spice-world of ancient Persia. The bottle, often called 'flacon bouchon coeur' for its heart-shaped stopper, were designed by Jacques' nephew Raymond Guerlain as a reference to the romantic pre-war time. Still, L'Heure Bleue is primarily known to be a melancholic scent.

sublime !!!!
a classic among classics

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.

Music notes - Miles Davis in his blue period arranged by Gil Evans. Muted trumpet solo. Lush orchestration - all this is what L'Heure Bleu evokes when I wear her. Not melancholic but haunting in her allure, she is like a stroll through my garden at dusk, when the scent hangs thickest in the air, the notes of all the evening flowers blending before dark; segue to Gershwin's Rhapsody in Blue.

This is my signature scent - if I had to pick one perfume to accompany me as a cast-away, this would be my choice. I first wore her in 1971, and over 30 years later I have grown into her.

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.

They don't make 'em like this anymore! So beautiful, sublime, art indescribable!

I've tried the EdT and EdP...the lush floral notes are ever so momentary in the EdT and quickly develops to a warm woodsy iris, which seems to be the focus in the EdT with a definite presence of vanilla. That impression of melancholy is ever so present in the EdT. The EdP however is a bolder interpretation, the anise note is brief only to have the tuberose and rose peek through, and then is replaced with a more passionate impression with the spicy note of carnation orange blossom and heliotrope with hints of the iris at this point, becoming more and more powdery with masculine overtones. Through this whole evolution, the vanilla keeps the scent round, and as the iris finally fades at the base, you catch a wooded musk, which seems more like an amber to my nose. I keep wishing this note was a bit more pronounced, but it does make its presence known as your own body temperature rises in the day. For the most part, it stays close to the skin, making it a more intimate and very romantic scent.

It's addictive--makes one yearn to understand all its facets that it tries to express. It makes you suddenly feel all that tenderness boiling over from inside of you-- vulnerable, blinded, dazed, confused, the symptoms of being lovelorn...perhaps that is the melancholy people describe? This is one of the most beautiful creations I've ever smelled.

When I inhale L'Heure Bleue, it conjures visions of Daisy and Jordan in F. Scott Fitzgerald's Great Gatsby ... it is surely the perfume they wore. Like the story of Gatsby, this scent has a sadness about it. Perhaps it is reflecting our longing for the simpler times it represents ... or perhaps it is because its beauty breaks our hearts. It is a soft, sweet spice, not too much of either. It is perfectly balanced, coming through as one entity, yet all the players can be identified with ease. It is classic, yet simple. I adore this scent. The opening notes and heart will melt you alone, but the dry down! Absolutely beautiful, creamy, lusciously soft, feminine to the max. The highest quality, yet such simple, time-tested ingredients. It reminds me of the mixtures of apothecaries of olde. Here is another perspective on the ingredients. Top: Bergamot oil, Clary Sage oil, Coriander, Lemon, Neroli, Tarragon. Heart: Clove Bud oil, Jasmin, Orchid, Rose de Mai, Ylang-Ylang. Base: Benzoin, Cedar, Musk, Sandal, Vanilla, Vetiver.

I love the name and the concept, but I do not like the way this fragrance smells. I don't get medicinal from it, I just get sharpish and musty and depressing. It also reminded me of a fusty, pale version of Mitsouko. I've just about smelled all the Guerlains now, and Shalimar remains the best for me, with Plus Que Jamais the only other one I really like. I can't make my mind up about Mitsouko.

Soft. Creamy. Impressionistic. Delightful. Sad. Soulful. Artistic. Aristocratic. Sublime.

Love it.

What is there to say that isn´t already said about wonderful L´Heure Bleu...? Yes, there is something! I find this old perfume very different from today´s, because it follows my emotion of the moment in a way today´s perfumes don´t do. It just takes place on my skin, and becomes a part of me! Some persons are talking about L´Heure Bleu as a sad scent. I do not agree at all. On my skin, it strengthen my temporary emotion, and makes me feel even more myself. It is a wonderful experience to wear L´Heure Bleu!

I have not owned L´Heure Bleu for long, so I might write another review later, when I know it even better.

The door opens on a dusky, blue-violet car. Anise is in control of the steering wheel. Violet is sitting quietly on the passenger's side. Tonka and Vanilla are overflowing from the back seat.
Anise drives very fast. Wowee! Florals are flying past the windows in a glorious blur of color.
We stop and pick up one of my favorites, Heliotrope, with its elusive PlayDoh note.
He has been on the road for awhile and hasn't bathed. His aroma is filling the car. Violet doesn't approve of picking up hitchhikers, especially big, strong ones.
"I am starting to feel faint, she says."
It is getting dark, and soon nobody can see anything, but the smells are still whizzing by, blowing in the windows as we drive full-strength, full-speed ahead.
L'Heure Bleue is one of the world's most exciting scents. Enigmatic and thought-provoking, it dares you to formulate a strong opinion of it. Can anyone say, "Oh, it's O.K. but it's kind of blah," or "I don't
remember if I tried that one?”
Meanwhile, back at the car, Anise sees Carnation hitchiking. He pulls over.
"No," says Violet. "Don't pick him up. There isn't any more room."
"Aw, come on," argues Anise. "Let's do it."
Vanilla, Tonka, and Heliotrope agree. They form a unified opinion. Violet is the odd vote, and the odd note.
"I'm leaving," she declares. "Let me out."
Carnation piles in. They roar down the road at full throttle, into the dusk, trailing their mingled aroma behind them.
It is dark; it is too late to walk home. Violet cries by the side of the road.

A sublime impressionistic fragrance painting... Ethereal.

Aaah Neroli. So strange. So continental. So perfectly simple.

A tiny dab and you're "breathtakingly lovely". Too much and you're sporting blue hair and support hose.

Gorgeous only in the hands of those with a sense of discretion.

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.

A wonderful scent, evocative of a simpler time and place. I see countryside at dawn, splashes of cool water, and pale golden light swirled with soft violet when I wear this perfume.

The basenote is a simple sweet vanilla unlike any modern fragrance that I’ve encountered. Modern vanilla in perfumes seem so fake and forced, while L’ Heure Bleue seems to have an authentic natural sweetness – think about a hard sugar cookie taken from a package compared to one baked at home, with warmth and sweetness fresh from the oven.

All that being said, this fragrance seems almost too delicate for the modern world and I certainly would never wear this too work. What that says about my life saddens me a little.

I own both the EDT and the perfume, and prefer the perfume.

Mitsouko dipped in sugar...I couldn't enjoy L'Heure Bleue's over the top sweetness. On my skin, it never calmed. Intensely sweet.

I ordered L' Heure Bleue unsniffed because it was purported to contain many of my most favorite notes: anise, violet, rose, jasmine, heliotrope, vanilla, tonka, amber. I was certain I would love it and I do. This is a scent I positively crave and must always have in my collection. It is almost like a food craving when I want this, it is so sweet (heliotrope, rose, jasmine, vanilla) and also a bit bitter ( the anise, I think, and something like green or bitter almond), which makes it addictive. I think this scent has some magical properties as well. I notice that if I am craving a sweet food, I can apply this perfume and just revel in its yummieness, it totally satisfies to the point it takes away my sweet tooth! But I will say for those of you who tried it and didn't like it at first, revisit! It was a tiny bit shocking to me at first, a very powerful scent, indeed. But it did not take long to win me over. Do take care not to over-apply and use with caution in hot weather, as the amber in the base is very sweet and tenacious- it can be overwhelming.

I bought a decant sample of this and was so excited to recieve it because of all of the reviews of praise for the famous L'Heure Bleue. I eagerly sprayed it on the second it came, and inhaled deeply...could this be the same mysterious and classic L'Heure Bleue that everyone is raving about? It's completely sour on my skin! I guess I built myself up to that moment when it came into contact but was so let down because the magic I was expecting didn't happen. It doesn't work well at all with my chemistry...very dissapointed.

If you're looking for a light, young, romantic perfume, try L'Heure Bleue. When I spritzed some on my college-age niece, her boyfriend said it smelled like sweet love. A romantic, he asked her what it was, and bought her a bottle. Later I told her the story of "the Blue Hour in Paris" and she told him.
She has worn other Guerlain fragrances, and like her aunt, she sees them as timeless classics. She knows the trick is to not overdo it. People should have to get close to inhale the sweetness.
I think a great deal of the time people put too much perfume on, and the topnotes just overwhelm, esp. with a powdery scent.

Hard to believe there are so few elements in this fragrance - it seems so complex and strange and beautiful. When my late husband and I were courting I told him about the French love of "l'heure bleu" - that magical semi-twilight time that seems to exist only in Paris and nowhere else (not even Venice). A few days later he presented me with my first EDT bottle and I have kept it at the top of my fragrance wardrobe ever since.

I fell in love with L'Heure Bleue one afternoon in 1957... I was 7 old, and was watching my very beautiful grandmother sitting at her mirror and putting on L'Heure Bleue... Is it possible that you so early in life recognize a smell so intimate already to your soul, that it all once reveals to you the future mysteries of life ?
I am a perfume addict, but the most perfectly mysterious and all-revealing (what a paradox, indeed ¨) of all, is L'Heure Bleue !
I think that this perfume, amongst all magnificent creations, is linked to some part of our affective memories, something like the madeleine of Proust, rapturously evocative...
What a pleasure to discover so many comments on your site ! And so many addicts to this king among great perfumes.

Oh, wow. When I first sniffed this in the bottle, I couldn't believe that I was sniffing the same scent praised by so many reviewers. After a month of sniffing (driven more, I'll admit, by dismay than by interest) I finally dared myself to give it a chance. After the first ten minutes, it started to blossom into something quite delightful--soft yet pronounced, almost velvety. Generally I dislike neroli as a dominant note, but blended with the carnation and vanilla, this ends up smelling slightly violet-like--and I *adore* violet. Very nice indeed...should be particularly nice on a cool October evening.

L'Heure Bleue is exquisitely composed, heartbreakingly beautiful. When I first encountered it, my hasty impression was that it was pure sugar on my skin, candied violets and who knows what... But I am so glad I came back for another trial. A silvery blue/sage green/violet & rosy bouquet of flowers and herbs for the first hour or so, then the base of sandal, cedar, vetiver, vanilla begins to be felt, but this never develops into anything approaching earthy. The entire impression is ethereal, a poignantly beautiful dream. The parfum has more dominant basenotes and is more sensual, less powdery-sweet.

Along with its spicy sister Mitsouko, LHB is at the pinnacle of my collection. I would never want to be without it. It doesn't belong to any category, it's impossible to describe. On me, it's almost bitter, but in a good way. Everyone who catchesa whiff of this seems to become contemplative and introspective. Anise lovers will particularly like it, though it has nothing in common with Lolita Lempicka. Weird and wonderful stuff!

Strange, wonderful and very grown-up. This is a fabulous discovery. Get a decant or a sample and try it. It is utterly unlike the modern watery vanilla/ sweet things smells you get in all the department stores. It has character, which is no bad thing in a bland world.

One of my all time favourites. Indescribable and enigmatic. Personally I can't pinpoint the ingredients; they merge into a swirling, mysterious ambiguity. This is a perfume to form a complex relationship with!! Beautiful.

I just wanted to add that Le'Heure Bleue was Cinema Goddess Jean Harlow's favorite perfume.

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.

Nothing I can say can add to what has been said here, although I can honestly say that everyone here is correct: both the lovers and avoiders of this fragrance. Perhaps that's a hallmark of a truly great fragrance, in that it can withstand both praise and rejection... This is especially true of LHB. It is so magnificient, it is a whole mindset unto itself. Utterly unlike any other fragrance you are likely to try, it could only have been composed by one of the most sensitive, discerning noses in history. It has been said that LHB is melancholy, adn that can scarcely be argued; it's not gay in mood. It is old-fashioned, but only in the sense that all the fragrance components are utterly natural smelling. This is-- pardon the snob appeal-- a fragrance for people who truly know and love fragrance and the psychological magic it can wreak. It is like a bottled sigh... or a bottled soul. I suppose it is Oriental, but it almost reads as a Fruitee to my nostrils... no doubt on account of the Orange blossom/bergamot attack and the cherry-like quality of the Heliotrope-- a major note in this fragrance. Unlike other more traditional Orientals, however, it does not posses a santal note that I can perceive, although patchouli is definitely present. As mentioned above, there is a darkish note au fond of the mixture, which is certainly vetivert. I also feel there is some menthol in the midrange of this fragrance, as well as perhaps another note which, on its own, would be brackish or medicinal-- but mixed delicately and ingeniously as it is, it merely buoys up the floralcy, and confers a nut-like warm "shelf", midway through the development of this fragrance. I can honestly say that this, and SHALIMAR, are my two favorite fragrances of all time, bar none. I am a man, and wear both of them quite comfortably and willingly. LHB is a majesty, a work of art, a classic.

simply a wonderful work of art,guerlain confirm with this the uniqueness of the brand'supremacy in the perfume's world

OMG! This is the worse thing I've ever smelled. With all the rave reviews i was expecting something spectacular. I'm not sure how anyone can like this. It stinks. But then again, I'm not sure how anyone can like Chanel N.5, stinks in the same way. Is age a factor in this? Could be. I think this smells like a dead old aunt.

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.

This is a summer scent for me. It makes me a bit melancholic then I want to sit back and reflect on the beautiful things in life. This EDP has a different & unique signature when sniffed from different angles. I must've looked strange turning my head every which way to catch all the subtle notes. On me Orange blossom & iris with very very faint tuberose. I'm not usually a tuberose fan, but this EDP is truly a masterpiece. This scent truely is in turmoil. One minute it's there, one minute it's not. It's maker almost put a soul in this scent (kind of spooky). Not a staple for me for me even tho I find it very unique.

When I first put this on, I thought "Oh no, it's Apres l'Ondee." I don't like almond notes (heliotrope), which I find quite strong in that perfume. L'Heure Bleue, however, blends the heliotrope much more subtly after that initial blast, for which I'm extremely grateful; there's just enough to add a cool feeling, along with the iris and carnation, against the warmer woods.

I really like the drydown on this one; I get lots of sandalwood and vetiver on my skin, lots of woods but tempered somehow so that the fragrance remains light and slightly, gently floral.

This is a difficult fragrance to describe. It's timeless. As others have said, give it some time before you make up your mind; it takes a little while to truly come into its own.

L’Heure Bleu is another true masterpiece by Jacques Guerlain. I see it as standing hand-in-hand with its sisters Mitsouko and Vol de Nuit. There is certain quality that underlines those three masterpieces and makes them even more than an amazingly beautiful perfume to wear - but truly a work of art.

L’Heure Bleu is sophisticated, dramatic, and yet has a unique melodramatic peacefulness that definitely does not lack reflective, philosophical melancholy.
When you realize, once the last dusky lights are giving themselves away to the first stars, how beautiful the day was, and how wonderful the dark blue night is, and the world is so vast and immeasurable and so full of beauty that it may even make you want to cry.
This moment of beauty is so eternal that it makes you feel your mortality in a painful way. But yet, you are content with yourself and your life that you know if it will be taken from you that moment, you will feel complete and in perfect harmony with the universe.
You breathe in the silent fresh air of your warm, spring garden. The night blooming jasmine is so beautiful and intoxicating. The grass that has been just watered, full of murmurs and insects’ summer-songs. The orange blossom flowers are just folding themselves for a long, peaceful night sleep. You pick a late blooming rose, a deep, velvety-purple rose, her petals already soft after warming up in the sun for a couple of days. You hold the rose and fondle the petals and hold them against your cheeks and sense the warm scent of a mature rose releasing the peak of her last fragrance into the night air...And it is all part of you now, there is no need to hold on to it.

Those beautiful, magical notes interweave with each other so gently that it is hard to tell one from the other. Together they create one impression that in my visual mind reminds me of a very earthy brown colour, though somewhat rich and copper like. I simply cannot see a deep blue when smelling l’Heure Bleu, though the different notes on their own make sense and tell the story of this time of the day:
There are the subtle citrus and anise top notes that are there to accentuate the soft florals, including violet flowers, and link them to the even deeper base notes.
The root of the composition, apparent from first application, is a soft and bittersweet heliotrope, combined with tonka bean that accentuates the softness, yet also possesses the bitter-almond-like undertones. Vanilla and orris root are also present, to support the overall powderiness and soft, mature and philosophical nature of this marvelous perfume.

The drydown is somewhat more smooth and ambery (though it is hard to see l’Heure Bleu as an oriental per se -it has such a unique individuality and perhaps deserves not to be categorized at all.Just like Vol de Nuit and Mitsouko - they don’t quite “fall” into categories I am afraid.)- The drydown is a bit less powdery, with a more vanilla accentuated note. It also has some woody notes in the drydown - I suspect vetiver, but cannot quite pin point it. I will not be surprised to find some oakmoss in it either, though not in a chypre context but an oriental context, and perhaps some underlining spices that are subtle and are not meant to be recognized but rather create a warm undernote to support the rest of the scene.

There is something in it that totally reminds me, surprisingly, of Mitsouko - the fruitiness that is quite dry, bittersweet (dry peach like notes in Mitsouko, and the cherry-like notes in l’Heure Bleu); and a certain dark woodiness at the base that is interesting, mysterious, hard to grasp - but once you get it you are totally captivated!
The fruitiness of l’Heure Bleu lasts much longer though - as it originates in the heliotrope base notes, rather than the peach top notes in Mitsouko (that most people find they fade just a bit too quickly after been exposed.).

Top notes: Bergamot, aniseed
Heart notes: Jasmine, Orange Blossom, Rose, Violet, Carnation, Orris root
Base notes: Heliotrope, Tonka Bean, Vanilla, Vetiver, Woods, Spices

I was late to "discover" this one but it has since become one of my most often worn fragrances. It is especially comforting to wear in the evening. L'Heure Bleue never fails to garner compliments every single time I wear it. True it is "powdery" but only in the sense that it evokes the sweetest memories of a time when all the world was simple and safe.
You owe it to yourself to try this classic, let it "settle" on you before you make a final decision.

Guerlain's L'Heure Bleue is a scent one has to mosey up to slowly, especially if one’s nose is not accustomed to these older fragrances. L'Heure Bleue is a rich floral-ambery scent which boasts wearers ranging from Queen Elizabeth II to Liza Minnelli. Its opening is a rush of a dusky, bittersweet aniseed mixed with almond-scented heliotrope. Similar in its opening to Apres L’Ondee, only stronger and much more assertive. The middle notes of L’Heure Bleue consist of clove bud, Bulgarian rose, damascene rose, jasmine, ylang-ylang and orchid. After this fragrance cooks on your skin a couple hours, the powdery base of vanilla, sandalwood, musk, vetiver, and benzoin come to the fore. L’Heure Bleue is formulated such that it’s often difficult to pinpoint one particular note; rather, the nose detects more of the whole than the individual parts. The famous Guerlain base, so evident in Apres L’Ondee, is evident here as well. L’Heure Bleue comes in pure parfum, EDP, and EDT. This review is for the EDP. Give this venerable classic more than one try if you found it too odd and too strong at first. This one has been around a long time and for good reason. Powdery, cozy, and comforting. Wear it on a cold day in Autumn to get the full effect.

If I could give it two thumbs up, I would. One of the most evocative fragrances ever made, it has the magic ability to transcend the physical, and transport me to a plane I call the Bleue Room. It is soul personified - there are many fragrances I like, but they don't touch me in the spot precious L'Heure Bleue does. I like drinking Pernod with this fragrance. Others have said it gives a feeling of an earlier, nostalgic era - I feel that way also, but to my mind it transports us to a way of feeling that one then becomes nostalgic about - sweeter, more soulful, more emotional. It is a good tonic for the soul - it reconnects you to a intimate, soulful spot inside yourself that is easily devalued in modern lifestyles. Not as sexual as its sibling 'Shalimar', it produces a more personal, intimate feeling. I cherish this fragrance.

My favorite scent ever.
Even though i am a man,i wear it easily.
It is sweet and powdery,makes me feel good,as if time and space were standing still.
As beautiful as a mother's kiss,a marvellous fragance,go and buy it in a hurry!