Fragrance Reviews by boogabazooga

I'm 40-something and I love it. It makes me feel happy. My mom, in her 60s, does not care for it. She likes "spicier" perfumes. But I think my 90-something grandma wanted to steal it from me at Thanksgiving. I ordered her a bottle for Christmas. I also sprayed some on a 70-something relative. She said, "I can't thank you enough for putting that perfume on me!" So, according to my informal experiment, elder ladies relate to this perfume immediately and profoundly. I am not sure why I love this perfume, as I am not a very "flowery" girl. But I love rain, and I love the idea that this perfume tries to capture the lingering scent of a spring rain.

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.

Like your favorite rock star wearing leather pants - and no underwear.