For example, the anise in LHB and others back then was added to amp up the perfume's sweetness, not to remind you of licorice candies, per sê. The fragrance is velvety soft and romantic, it is a fragrance of bluish dusk and anticipation of night, before the first stars appear in the sky.

Dear reviewer "nhledger", L'heure bleue can't possibly be a dupe of Chanel 5 simply because LHB comes from 1912 and Chanel No. It is like an entanglement with a forbidden lover: cherished moments that will only give way to memories of blue starry nights caressing under a great big sky. Upon first spray, one's senses are dosed in the sophistication of pre-war Paris in all its luxurious glamour, decadence and romanticism. I get hugged a lot while wearing this fragrance, and I do think it has a decided allure of it's own. I've read a lot of the reviews here (I know, I do that), and given that I owned a bottle not that long ago, I thought I should add something.I purchased this fragrance alongside Mitsuoko, and I like to think of Mitsuoko as the golden hour that fades into the melancholic dusk of twilight that is L'heure Bleue. I ADORE all the varations of L'heure bleue: the parfum and edp are sharper with spicy carnation and stronger Guerlainade base, while the edt is softer, more vanillic, like a caress. This perfume to me is an Impressionist painting of warm and cool, gold and blue, complementary colour with dabs of light and shimmery iridescence; of complexity, contrast, high and low, joy and melancholy.

It could be described as "sad" in a way that is not bleak, gloomy or self-abjecting, in the very dignified, private old-school manner they used to carry sadness , the way an aristocratic hostess type would keep mementos from people she has loved and lost in her life and save them inside violet pastille boxes in her boudoir to look at them fondly and smile. I definitely feel like a queen wearing this classic-I can see why Queen Elizabeth wore this her entire life! Btw, to clarify something in the blurb above the pyramid, Raymond Guerlain designed the bottle for the perfume, not the perfume itself. When you are old, Petite Robe Noire (if it survives that long) will be considered an old lady scent.Older formulations of LHB EDP used to "sprawl" on the skin in a three-dimensional way; the different accords-- doughy, fruity, floral, spicy, medicinal--- used to separate themselves pleasingly into different "camps" on my skin. It becomes increasingly creamy, vanillary and delicious as time goes down without ever losing its spicy edge. As time passes, it becomes more impressionistic, almost phantasmagorical, as if it follows into the night, unabated but mutating into woods, benzoin, and vanilla. I only want to add that after 3-4 hours it grows chocolatey, like a good hot chocolate with rum and very little milk.

I find the current EDT quite dry compared to the iris-violet-praline rather sweet and enveloping reputation of L’Heure Bleue (which comes out as such in the EDP but topped up by the very leather note (which again I think it’s due to evolution over time). to me LB is more interesting than Chanel No 5 and I never thought anything would beat that same scent, but wow this fragrance is so impressive and such a work of art. Conjures memories of an actress in film noir or the song "Mood Indigo," nostalgic, as if from a past before my time, in twilight's "blue hour," mysterious yet hauntingly familiar. I gave her my Vol du Noit EDT as I got the perfume propeller bottle for Christmas and I like it much better and won’t wear.That's the beauty and the tragedy of perfumery, I suppose - you can't force a scent to work with your chemistry.

Which doesn't mean that I think extroverted brunettes can't wear it, just that it doesn't feel right on me. L’heure bleue is a liminal hour of melancholy, 1920s, fleeting like the apparition of a young tender girl pale as a February rose. The final notes of powdery vanilla in the last chapter are the most feminine and are memories of an era that is passed.I feel like I've finally "grown into" vintage Guerlain as I previously felt too young to appreciate this. Truly a fitting name; 'Blue Hour', the scent of the sky, that is the only way I can describe this fragrance. Of the fantastic feminine trio that I have labeled as minimally unisex - Shalimar, Jicky and L'Heure Bleue - the latter is the one with a less masculine facet. 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?