The more I learn about perfume the more I realize how much more I have to experience. I've come to be a big fan of scents I would classify as modern or edgy. A scent that takes chances and tries to combine notes in unexpected ways. Naturally I also expect that this scent would be contemporary in the date of its creation. Then there are days like these. Guerlain L'Heure Bleue was created by Jacques Guerlain in 1912 and this has everything I would want from a "modern" scent but it was created almost 100 years ago. L'Heure Bleue translates to "blue hour" and is meant to describe the twilight portion of the day as the sun has dropped below the horizon but the stars have not yet appeared. Like Jacques Guerlain it is one of my favorite parts of the day, too. I treasure it not for the tinge of blue that seems to be draped over everything but for the unnatural sharpness that the receding of the light seems to impart to my vision. L'Heure Bleue contains those kind of sharp edges I associate with modern scent making. At the top you are met with orange blossom and bergamot. This is a lovely light beginning reminsicent of the dying of the light as these are bright fleeting notes. The heart is that part of twilight that the night flowers begin to peek out. Anise is the note that shuttles my nose into the deepening dark as carnation and its clove-like character begin to take hold, this is soon followed by rose and violet. The base is vanilla and musk but it is superbly balanced and it is never too sweet or too animalic it is just right. L'Heure Bleue has been described as a melancholic scent and I just don't get that at all. It captures the end of the day and the potential of the evening ahead and I find that exhilirating just like L'Heure Bleue makes me feel.