Reviews of L'Heure Bleue Eau de Parfum 
Guerlain (1912)

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L'Heure Bleue Eau de Parfum by Guerlain

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Reviews of L'Heure Bleue Eau de Parfum by Guerlain

There are 157 reviews of L'Heure Bleue Eau de Parfum by Guerlain.

And you can send me dead flowers every morning

Send me dead flowers by the mail

Send me dead flowers to my wedding

This scent is all about the evocative powers of dead me!

In my possession is a 2002 batch (MEQXR) and from the very opening, it is everything I hoped to experience and more (I can only imagine the beauty of a well-preserved older vintage).

There's a radiant kaleidescope of cherry-pie-play-doh heliotrope, anisaldehyde-heavy aniseed, parma violets, spicy carnation, and cool and watery iris. Its a confluence of several favorite notes, and it is utterly BLISSFUL.

It smells of crepuscule, bittersweet and uncertain, but of a profound beauty. As time passes, it becomes more impressionistic, almost phantasmagorical, as if it follows into the night, unabated but mutating into woods, benzoin, and vanilla. Hours pass, and the legendary Guerlainade base remains, eventually whispering.

One of the few fragrances that is profoundly personal. I wear this at night, mostly for myself or for meaningful company. I don't think the world that is ageist and obsessed with what's de rigueur can really understand L'Heure Bleue, so why cast pearls before swine?

One part orange blossom, one part spicy carnation, one part violet. Throw in some heliotrope, some anise and other spices, and you have this remarkable, edible masterpiece.

I have not tried this in some years. I have a fluted EDC bottle, and an EDP from the "striped" gold box. I prefer the Cologne for its less-intense approach.

Women have worn this their entire lives, and it makes perfect sense why. It's all downhill after this.

The Bergamot and lemon start bright and fresh, with a bit of neroli adding a warm glow. So far, so good. This is counterbalanced by a darker and spicier - albeit restrainedly so - side, based on the triad of sage, coriander and anise; the latter is a hallmark god the L'heure bleue family. The balance of citrus fruit vs the fresh fruit is beautiful and the lovely equilibrium.

The drydown brings us the Bulgarian rose, with a green and leafy undertone with the woodsiness of the stem als me represented. A jasmine of a traditional make combines with iris and a dark orchid impression to a floral bouquet that fluctuates between darker and brighter, between sweet and a darkish green vibe. Gradually the more herbal and leafy aroma thickens and takes in a more creamy sweetness, to which a soft heliotrope as well as a smooth ylang-ylang contribute on an equal basis. A slightly raspier violet, with a slightly indolic benzoin component as well as whiffs of a tuberose, works very well together with the other florals, especially the rose.

The base is what has become a template for many other fragrances over the next 100 years after its release in 1912. Tonka and bean vanilla, underlines with a good lashing of woodsiness - cedar and a touch of sandalwood - is a familiar pattern nowadays, as is the light musky garnishing that round off the base. A vetiver that arises towards the end is quite restrained on me, but its earthiness shines though until the finish.

I get moderate sillage, excellent projection and a superb fourteen hours of longevity on my skin.

This rich and complex scent for spring evenings is one of the versions of this classic composition, whose floral power exudes confidence and voluptuous elegance. Whilst a bit thick at times, it nonetheless is setting a precedent in perfumery for the next many decades. 3.75/5.

Day's clear light fades in
to Night's cool dark eye static

Textured iris by
Any means necessary
As the mind's eye blinks

"But Flower Puff Girls,
You say I make you tingle
Like it's a bad thing!"

Said Snow Blow Glow Go
As night descends upon the
City of Townsville

Tucked into bed by
Professor Bleuetonium
Somewhere in Paris

Safe from the monsters
Buzzy Spice with his Wood Gun
'Fumey thoughts of HYMN

So behold this here
E'r-fashioned innocence of
Oldform sniffstoffe

Me Ambroxan droogs
Iris, Jasmine, Bergamot
Rescue or rescued

One more story time
Our olfractured fairy tales
Good, bad and pretty

This precious ado
That never quite turns vintage
Cuz there's a n00b born

Ev'ry frag minute
Ready to behold the truth
None of this is real

What ever that is
And yet we're so good at it
That would be our crime

Ask your self again:
"When does it make you feel, child?"
"Twilight!" "Good answer!"

Smells like a poof of Johnson & Johnson baby powder. I had a hard time smelling anything else from it for about an hour. I also had to look up the notes to pinpoint the coriander. It is a little coriander under a big fat floral. It is quite beautiful, and indeed has a blue twilight feel. Kind of melancholy. Powdery and soft. Performance was good. Seemed aggressively soft. Im going thumbs up here. It is not meant for me, but this fragrance is really nice. Doesnt seem all that dated to me.

One of the classic Guerlain fragrances. A powdery old world charm of a fragrances with bergamot showing up at the beginning with violets. I think the two notes seem to somewhat clash to my nose but maybe that is just me! It soon gives way to a more blendid concoction with heliotrope & other florals hanging in there. I do pick up some resins but they do not shout.

All in all, if you are looking for an intimate soft fragrance with nice longevity then give this a try. It does put me in a calm state of mind whenever I wore it. Unfortunately my taste in fragrances change frequently & I parted with my vintage EDT bottle. Would work well in autumn weather & a mature classy dame!

L'Heure Bleue (1912) is a timeless Guerlain masterpiece that has been enjoyed by generations of women, and indeed some men, for well over a century. The scent followed in the footsteps of powdery floral fougère-like compositions worn by the chaste upper classes of the late 19th and early 20th century, and was composed by Jacques Guerlain, the man who literally shaped the house note itself by building on work from his uncle Aimé Guerlain with this, then Mitsouko (1919), Guerlinade (1924), and Shalimar (1925). Outside of helping to define the reputation of house Guerlain, L'Huere Bleue (aka "The Bluish Hour" in French) was meant to be worn in early evenings at dusk, to compliment the bluish hue the sky takes, and to conjure images of gentle romance; think about that next time you smell a modern perfume just made to be "sexy" or "fresh", as the entirety of this perfume was composed to capture a very specific time of day and activity occuring at the time, almost as a task-specific evening tryste fragrance. The smell of Guerlain L'Huere Bleue was perceived as quite feminine at the time, and it's heavy heliotrope also helped further define the "baby powder" smell in coming years as perfumes of this type before it had, but time has rendered L'Heure Bleue more genderfluid than that, especially in the wake of powdery 60's fougères like Brut (1962) and Wild Country (1967) or masuline indolic flower bombs like Royal Copenhagen (1970) all challenging the femininity of the antique L'Huere Bleue by sharing similar values. That's not to say this stuff isn't still effeminate, because so are those older masculines in comparison to what exists for men in the 21st century, just that like them, the appeal of L'Heure Bleue has expanded beyond it's intended audience. Still, this scent most definitely conjures images of huge flower-adorned hats and parasols to me, and outside of the heart, there isn't a muscular bone in L'Heure Bleue's body, so do NOT go into smelling it thinking it's another Jicky (1889), as even in vintage form this scent is not really all that animalic, but rather pillowy rich thanks to older synthetic musks like musk ketone and musk ambrette.

The smell of L'Huere Bleue is familiar yet strange all at the same time in the opening salvo, as it's one lavender note short of a stereotypical fougère accord with it's bergamot, clary sage, aniseed, tarragon and lemon, which join a fruity-sweet neroli that serves as the feminization factor here. There's something of a connection between the complex floral middle in L'Heure Bleue and the masculine dandy-like chypre Habit Rouge (1965), composed by Jean-Paul Guerlain, which is where CIS men of any orientation familiar with classic Guerlain will find the most comfort and familiarity when smelling L'Heure Bleue. Rose, iris, heliotrope, ylang-ylang, jasmine and carnation all blur into a soft "foundation" smell which was doubtless pirated ad infinitum by cosmetic companies after L'Heure Bleue hit shelves. The base is where the "fougère factor" rings true again, and the biggest point of separation between this and later Habit Rouge, which definitely goes for a sharper "cypress-like" dry down. Sandalwood, tonka, musk, vetiver, oakmoss and cedar all draw similarities to stuff like Zizanie (1932) or Canoe (1936) which showed up later and were pitched to men, but benzoin and vanilla "tweak the knobs" in such a way with L'Huere Bleue that this bullet would be dodged sufficiently even in the wake of emerging masculine tropes that heavily abused the emerging "barbershop" accord found in part under L'Huere Bleue's amazingly complex floral bouquet. The powdery heliotrope diffuses sillage enough that it isn't a bomb, but sustain vibrato is very long-lived with L'Huere Bleue, providing a very structured and abstinent pleasantness lasting over 12+ hours and made perfect for a meeting with a new client and a date night all in the same day. Office use is A-ok with L'Huere Bleue, and it does retain some of it's antiquated romanticism if you're going to a classy old-world joint like Maxim's of Paris or a late walk through New York City's Coney Island boardwalk.

L'Huere Bleue may be prim and proper as expected for a perfume from 1912, but it's Belle Époque origins guaranteed it free from the rigidity of social discipline that Victorian perfumes had to observe, meaning it's slightly-indolic tones and softly sweet idealized romanticism weren't quite so scandalous anymore, and they were just the beginning of a theme for Jacques Guerlain, who would steadily take his feminine creations down an increasingly assertive path until his hand-off to his grandson Jean-Paul. Wearing L'Heure Bleue is obviously like wearing a piece of history, but all that aside, wearing L'Heure Bleue is like wearing shades of everything a powdery floral perfume is known to be (even in the 21st century), but slightly blurred by the roundness of a fougère-like base and an overly-blended heart note haze, itself something of a trademark for the late perfumer, who was also known to mix entire previous perfumes into the base of new ones and continue building. L'Huere Bleue just "glows", much like the sky in the time of day after which it's named, ultimately making it an unusually relaxed, comfortable perfume to wear. Open-minded or particularly flamboyant/dandyish guys should definitely try this out, but otherwise this is still likely to appeal mostly to folks who identify as female or feminine-leaning, which is fine. Fans of vintage perfumes won't really care where this sits along the spectrum and ostensibly modern folks might see poor L'Huere Bleue as too "Grandma's Boudoir" for their liking anyway, so being able to enjoy this goes hand-in-hand with enjoying the art, music, fashion, frivolity, and indeed the flavor of the Belle Époque itself. For everyone else, this is likely too dainty and irrelevant of an old girl to hang in the company of modern "fruitchouli" and "cashmeran amberwood" fragrances, even if it's DNA still lingers in all of them. It's not my everyday cup of tea, but thumbs up for this beautiful piece of history.

Heavy powdery drydown similar to Creed Royal English Leather and Bal a Versailles. It overpowers and wears me rather than the other way round.

I've been wearing samples of L'Heure Bleue edp from various years, and really enjoying it. I get a strong association with nag champa incense sticks, which is the note giving the fragrance so much heft, power, and longevity. It's a note that starts out almost too strong in a way that makes it transporting and memorable, and as it develops, it becomes softer, friendlier, and more irresistible.

How gorgeous! The bergamot in the opening made me think of Shalimar, but then it went similar to another Guerlain that I love, French Kiss. I get a lot of amber and then almond, which are not listed here. Tonka and vanilla are well present as well.

I read so many rave reviews for this one so when I tried it, I was shocked that it smelled like cheap bathroom air freshener or maybe even urinal cake to me. It's very old fashioned and quaint, but I do not want to smell like it.

Everything has already been said about this amazing classic, but I'll chime in to say that this is the only stereotypically 'feminine' perfume that I love. I am an outlier when it comes to scent and gravitate more toward the musky, resinous, and animalic end of things rather than the floral or the sweet. And I definitely do not do 'clean and fresh.' L'Heure Blue, however, makes me nearly swoon with pleasure. I think it is the medicinal and balsamic aspects of this Guerlain that bring me such joy. I have never tried any of the modern versions of this scent, but the vintage extrait contains a depth and almost leathery texture that I adore. This combined with the indolic nature of some of the florals gives me that sort of 'vintage skank' that I crave and continue to endlessly seek out. Between the medicinal top and the musky base notes, this is one 'womanly' scent that I will always have in my collection.

A beautiful powdery floral, I'm not sure about the sensuousness, I find it comforting and safe. That probably says more about me than the perfume.
It's beautiful and complex, I'm often unable to discern the separate components entirely. I work with people and appreciate it's 'closeness' rather than rampant sillage.

What a lovely scent. As a fan/owner of Jicky and other Guerlain offerings {masculine/feminine/shared}, L'heure Bleue EdP was on my wishlist. The powdery florals remind me of Caswell-Massey Jockey Club, reputed to be JFK's favored scent and one of my favorite fragrances.
L'heure didn't reveal its vanilla and iris on me until much later, but close to the skin it is quite delicious.
This was a blind buy and I would like to thank all of you BN reviewers of L'heure Bleue, as your input and opinions helped make this purchase an easy decision.
P.S. this is my first review on BN!

Once upon a time I was in love with anything Guerlain released, that I could test or buy. However, my tastes have changed over the decades.

L'Heure Bleu is better, than I remember! I was hesitant to purchase this again. I am glad I did. True romance in a bottle! A perfect, deep floral. Right up my alley. It is classy, well-orchestrated, and charming. If this has been reformulated, I don't care. I enjoy it the way it is now.

A sublime work of art, a timeless concerto, a treasure worth finding. Elegance through simplicity in the notes. Thank you J. G.

This is an incredible female fragrance. It wouldn't have worked with Bergamot as a top note, but the Neroli works perfectly. The soft floral heard notes don't get too powdery. I am beginning to realize that I LOVE "carnation" accord in a women's perfume.

L'Heure Bleue is for me a perfume of such grand and structured richness, it astonishes me every time. An abundance of warm, silky floral notes, spices, powder, balsams and a glorious sandalwood that sings right from the start and just keeps going. All perfectly massaged into a harmonious creation like some incredible pastry that requires intense labour and skill to get just right and create that hallelujah moment on the tongue.
It has numerous markers that date it (for it is now over a hundred years old): floral notes of clove-tinged carnation and sweet violet, with an anise and heliotrope back-up, that were much more common in perfumes of yesteryear; an unabashed powderiness coupled with an unctuousness that is rare in modern creations in which the legacy of ‘fresh' and ‘clean' is still too prominent; a daring amount of spice and resins. And yet from such serious elements arises something that shimmers like a mirage, gleaming, enticing, yet always just receding a step when you think you have understood it.
I tried L'Heure Bleue at perfume counters, always walking away thinking, ‘This is a bit too much for me.' This happened about half a dozen times. And then suddenly, one day, its radiance was revealed and then there was no going back. It's a fugue of a perfume, complex but with each note in the right place.
Much is made of its sensuousness, but it resists the temptation to swooning, full-blown excess (such as, say, the roseate oblivion of Nahema) and also appeals to an intellectual appreciation in its fine calibration. And then there's that amazing sandalwood – still on song, no matter how long your day.
(Review is for EDP, current formulation.)

The Blue Room BY Suzanne Valadon 1919

Time can tear down a building or destroy a woman's face
Hours are like diamonds, don't let them waste

The twilight pastry with its marzipan, marshmallow accord, the powdery caress of a beautiful woman, a sun-warmed garden cooling in the evening..... This wonderful gourmand fragrance has it all and more. L'Heure bleue has a shimmering beauty to it, sensual and feminine and very, very French. Like the blue hour of its name, there is a transitory, evanescent quality about this–this moment, too, shall pass–and the melancholy note that is so famous in this scent is one of regret; regret that the dreams of the night time will vanish by dawn. Time waits for no one but the very fact that this fragrance is over 100 years old is amazing.

A truly affecting "sensual" experience for me: i wear this one only when the mood strikes. I ignore that is supposedly a ladies' fragrance. I never believed in defining sexes in perfumes. The perfect perfume is merely individual and many have agreed that defining a fragrance by sex is just all linked to marketing issues and nothing else really! That being said, i never felt uncomfortable wearing this! At the contrary on me, it smells soft, powdery and slightly melancholic if anything! It's funny, how much potent of a vanilla it is, and yet i never think of it when i sniff it or wear it!! It's a little classic masterpiece that i'd recommend to all artists and people with character and moods. And, you must love heavily powdery notes, because this, along with Apres l'Ondes another extremely powdery one, is a cyphre as Guerlain can get, and, i believe that's saying something, right there.

I'm lucky, I guess, because this smelled drop-dead gorgeous to me the first second I smelled it, and then got even more amazing as time went on. I didn't have to learn to appreciate it, or overcome anything to fall deeply in love with it. It doesn't smell old or dated or dusty or melancholic to me. Just the opposite, in fact. No matter my mood before applying, as soon as I put it on I feel happy, serene and hopeful. Very Zen. I find the EDP overwhelmingly beautiful with the golden and round top notes merging later into my very favorite example of the Guerlinade base. This is gourmand on me, except for the carnation, and even that could be mistaken for cloves.
My vintage extrait is lovely, too, but darker and deeper. This is the best fragrance I have ever had the good fortune to experience. Even better than my much-adored Shalimar, and that is saying something. I do find this and Mitsouko ( also in my top five favorites)to be the beginning and ending of an era. LHB more innocent, unaware of the horrors to come. And Mitsouko a survivor of the War, but one who has seen it all, no innocence left.
L'Heure Bleue envelops me in the happy innocence of little pleasures, eating a pastry, smelling the heady scent of flowers in the twilight....eyes wide open and without fear. That is how I try to live my life, and that is how I love to smell. Once again, thank you, Guerlain. You have provided the olfactory soundtrack to my life.

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