28 reseñas

Mostrando las más recientes primero.

• Karilita

  November 2, 2023

  

  It’s a discreet yet characterful perfume. I find it cool and sober, without those current excesses, carrying an elegance and cleanliness that make a difference. Bergamot with spices, an iris that demands attention, heliotrope, musk, and vetiver create a delicate scent on the skin; it doesn’t smell like powder, but rather pleasant due to that vetiver freshness. It’s not a blind buy; it falls in the line of a ‘Musk’ with a sweet, nostalgic, and serious touch, ideal for a woman who doesn’t seek to stand out, projecting serenity and a conservative air.

• Dama Incognita

  November 21, 2022

  

  This scent transports me to the past; I imagine very elegant ladies from the early 20th century wearing it, though it’s timeless and looks great today. In fact, I’ve received compliments when wearing it, probably because it stays away from common smells and catches attention. I love the violet note, which is very prominent here, combined very well with anise, rose, and vanilla. These are the notes that stand out most on my skin, and as it dries down, it leaves a floral aroma with a powdery touch.

• ambrelover

  December 30, 2021

  

  I got a sample of this vintage perfume, which is very uncommon. I expected something floral, sweet, and powdery, but it wasn’t like that. It opens very powerfully with anise and something fresh, but immediately powdery and spiced flowers appear. This isn’t an innocent floral; it’s powerful and has personality, smelling like a great lady, of violet, iris, and many spices. You can feel the vetiver in the base giving it character and strength. It feels ancient, powdery, floral, and full of spices. It’s not innocent; on the contrary, it’s serious and strong, a jewel of the past.

• Gemasevilla

  November 4, 2021

  

  It’s true that it’s a scent from long ago, but very elegant and super powdery. It reminds me of the face powders from Maderas de Oriente by Mirurgia that my grandmother used. What memories! Still, it’s addictive to me, like a caress, something very special. This perfume world is one that transports you to other worlds. What things!

• Noraperfumes

  October 17, 2021

  

  That’s the perfume Queen Elizabeth II used to wear.

• Scentifolia

  February 4, 2021

  

  It’s a perfume suited for another time, for this time, or for those living in this time but wanting to reminisce about the other. Its lineage is Guerlain, but it’s the daughter of another perfume, L’Origan by Coty, the first of the ‘floriental’ genre that revolutionized with its blend of carnation, orange blossom, and vanilla; that one truly belongs to another time, to be worn but not smelled, or to be found but not bought in that ‘Tardis’ for olfactory time travel called Osmothèque. I hope this doesn’t move there because the ugly and bad things under the corporate umbrella of LVMH are enough to set up your own Osmothèque at home, and how I regret not having saved some Miss Dior, Diorella, Mitsouko, and now Joy from this perfumicide corporation that is to perfumery what oxygen and time are to iron or Aqua Regia to gold. Enfin, rant over. The Belle Époque. Bizet. The first great Paris Exposition. Art Nouveau with its interlacing floral curves endlessly decorating the mirrors where demi-mondaines gazed at themselves in Paris’s Maxim’s or embracing Tiffany lamps. Lace romance and can-can. And violets, many violets. Iris, orange blossom, and carnation. It doesn’t remind me of the crème brûlée of Paris like Shalimar nor of a Provençal herb kitchen like Jicky; this is Normandy with its gray-gull Breton color and introverted flowers viewed through mist and dispersion, a sensation of flat flowers painted instead of something 3D. I think it’s this impression of heavy floral engraving under powder that makes many attribute a sense of melancholy. So you’re sad and start eating a Paris Brest with museline cream and almonds while still seeing the heavy flowers. That for me is L’Heure Bleue. And how I love this cocotte lost in a Proust novel; I don’t want it to be of my era nor do I want to be in hers, I just like opening her memory and smelling her history on my skin. So I open the bottle in search of lost time.

• Scentifolia

  February 1, 2021

  

  This perfume is for another time, or for those living here but wanting to remember the past. It is the daughter of Coty’s L’Origan, that revolutionary ‘floriental’ that is no longer found. I hope LVMH doesn’t take it, because the ugly things they do are just to make you build your own Osmothèque at home. It reminds me of the Belle Époque, Bizet, and Paris: violets, iris, orange blossom, and carnation. It’s not like Shalimar or Jicky; it’s Normandy with mist, flat flowers, and a leaden engraving that brings melancholy. Imagine eating a sad Paris Brest while looking at heavy flowers. For me, it is L’Heure Bleue: a lost cocotte in a Proust novel, opening a memory on my skin.

• Gemojai

  November 16, 2019

  

  I use it occasionally, like a magical shield at boring meetings or when performing with a violinist. It’s complex and intense but not invasive, ideal for evening. Poetic, delicate, and abstract; as it dries down, carnation, clove, and anise dominate. It’s vintage, talcum-powdered, and evocative. On others, it will cause intrigue, respect, and an unreachable aura.

• Gemojai

  November 8, 2019

  

  I use it on occasions… when I perform alongside a violinist… reciting Virginia Woolf with a synthesizer in the background… I use it as a magical shield at overly chilly social gatherings. Complex perfume, not suitable for everyone. Intense yet not invasive, more proper for late afternoon/evening (at least in this concentration). Poetic, delicate, abstract… in its journey to dry down, carnation, clove, and anise prevail. Vintage, powdery, evocative of other times, with a special personality. In others, you will cause intrigue, respect, and create a certain aura of an unreachable woman or man.

• Yadorán d'Vinea

  March 1, 2019

  

  L’Heure Bleue is a complicated fragrance; on one hand, it has the privilege of staying in the commercial landscape despite being over a century old, on the other, it has had to adapt to the new millennium market by any means, even if that meant ending up with less favorable results. Jacques Guerlain used to describe L’Heure Bleue as follows: “The sun has just set, but night has not yet fallen. It’s that uncertain hour… The hour when one finally finds oneself in a renewed harmony with the world and the light.” Jacques would have found his inspiration in the view of the Seine river in Paris at sunset (hence the name “Blue Hour”) and the perfume was initially a gift for his wife, who, according to legend, never wore another perfume in her life other than L’Heure Bleue. The fragrance itself is quite particular; although it’s described as a floral oriental, I personally perceive it as a very deep aldehydic floral. Throughout the development, the iris and carnation genuinely stand out, delivering an oscillation between a terribly powdery and vanilla classic floral, or a spiced oriental with tons of carnation and quite diffuse spices. Not few are the people who have judged it as an atmospheric perfume with a very sad or melancholic presence, and certainly, even with the passing of years, it still seems a quite emotional fragrance; however, I confess that in its current format, it’s complicated for me to distinguish from Nina Ricci’s L’Air du Temps, and indeed both share numerous qualities, such as a carnation body and lugubrious tones; usually, the Nina Ricci piece is considered to remind loved ones who have passed away (and those who know the concept behind it will see that this makes sense), but on its part, L’Heure Bleue can result in being discreetly more romantic (and conceptually speaking, this also makes sense). L’Heure Bleue is a fragrance very far from what is stylish today, even to the point of daring to say it could result in being extravagant in its best era, as it seems to compile the most sentimental of the 50s floral aldehydes with the most extravagant of the 80s spiced orientals. L’Heure Bleue is not sweet, nor fresh, nor clean; it’s warm, perhaps even spicy, like a warm tear. However, perhaps it’s due to a not-so-enviable aging, but certainly it’s a fragrance with very limited potency, although its longevity is more redeemable. It’s a beautiful fragrance, however, it has a quite peculiar temperament that takes away much utility for less formal events.

• Yadorán d'Vinea

  February 23, 2019

  

  L’Heure Bleue is a complex fragrance that has been on the market for over a century. Jacques Guerlain described it as that blue hour between sunset and night, inspired by the Seine and created for his wife, who never used anything else. I perceive it as a deep aldehydic floral with iris and carnation, oscillating between powdery and spicy notes. Many see it as melancholic and emotional; for me, while it resembles Nina Ricci’s L’Air du Temps a bit, it’s more romantic. It gathers the best of the 50s and 80s, feeling warm and spicy like a warm tear. Its longevity is good, but its peculiar temperament makes it difficult for casual events.

• pedjalazaro

  January 30, 2019

  

  I neither like nor dislike it. Anise opening that quickly powders with heliotrope and iris, with vanilla adding a sweet base and carnation a floral-spicy point. Floral oriental, slightly spiced, classic cut, and quite feminine. Good performance. For autumn and winter. For night. Lasting longevity. Moderate sillage.

• Espartaco

  May 9, 2018

  

  L’Heure Bleue lacks the ability to adapt to the times. Think of Shalimar, Mitsouko, or Chanel No. 5: they have the DNA of their era but are timeless. L’Heure Bleue, although not ugly, has aged terribly. It’s not bad, it’s very good: dense, melancholic, sad, with nuances and music, a dusty floral with an anguished edge thanks to the iris, heliotrope, and carnation. But I believe it doesn’t pass the test of time. I like it, it challenges me, and it seems obsolete, almost dead. Still, I recommend trying it; it’s an experience.

• LizGlz

  May 2, 2018

  

  I tried it in a decant and was surprised; I wasn’t prepared. The opening was a kick to the nose, very strong, but it evolves to dry down into a powdery flower, slightly sweet. It’s super long-lasting with good sillage. By no means suitable for blind buying.

• LizGlz

  April 24, 2018

  

  I tried it as a decant and was blown away: I wasn’t ready for what we’d become. The opening is a kick to the nose, brutal, but it evolves into a powdery floral with a sweet touch. It’s super long-lasting with great sillage. Absolutely not something to buy blind.

• Espartaco

  April 24, 2018

  

  I notice that L’Heure Bleue hasn’t known how to adapt to the times. For example, I think of Shalimar, Mitsouko, or Chanel No. 5 and No. 22 or Youth Dew, and they are perfumes that have the DNA of the year they were born but at the same time conserve an “something” that makes them timeless, as also happens with Kouros by Saint Laurent. I’m wearing Chanel No. 5 right now and I don’t see myself wearing a relic of the past, but a pleasant soapy and floral aroma, a classic. L’Heure Bleue, even not being an ugly perfume, has aged terribly. Is it bad? No, it’s very good. It’s dense, melancholic, sad, has nuances and music, powdery floral to death and even with some anguished edge thanks to the mix of creamy notes like iris and heliotrope with the spiced tone of carnation… but upon trying it, I think it doesn’t pass the years’ filter. And I’ve tried so hard. That it hasn’t known how to adapt to the present as it happens to Shalimar, which you can imagine just as well worn by a lesbian cabaret girl in the Weimar Republic as today perfuming the neck of a bohemian biker… I like it, it challenges me to understand it, and at the same time it seems to me an obsolete, almost dead perfume… Still, I recommend trying it, it’s an experience.

• Haruna

  March 4, 2017

  

  I’ve written several reviews of this fragrance and I’m surprised by how fickle I am: my passion for ‘L’Heure Bleue’ is about to end. I no longer find it as peculiar; it’s pleasant, sweet, and very powdery, but I’ve stopped considering it ‘legendary’. To be honest again: after wearing it for a long time, it reminds me of several bathroom product scents. Love has an expiration date, and so does this with fragrances. Medium longevity and soft sillage. If you like anise and rose notes, you’ll enjoy it.

• VainillaDulce

  March 1, 2017

  

  To me, it’s not nostalgic, but a talcum-powdered flower soaked in tenderness. It’s very special because it doesn’t resemble current perfumes; whoever wears it stands out for their peculiar scent. It smells like those heart candies, without being cloying. It’s a shy, elegant, tender, and innocent oriental. Rating 9/10.

• VainillaDulce

  February 8, 2017

  

  L’Heure Bleue isn’t a nostalgic perfume for me; I describe it as a powdery floral soaked in tenderness. It’s very special because it doesn’t resemble anything today; whoever wears it stands out for that peculiar scent. I agree with Pabloso: it smells like those heart-shaped candies, clarifying that it’s not cloying. It’s an oriental with shy airs, elegant, tender, and innocent. Rating 9/10.

• Annie01

  November 23, 2016

  

  I love these aromas from bygone eras that, though reformulated, keep that innate spirit that made them shine. Wearing them today is about standing out, not being just another trend follower. It’s being yourself and finding a treasure. I see it as the younger sister of Shalimar: both are difficult, capricious, and egotistical in the opening, but if you pay attention, they let themselves be loved and surprise you by transforming into something powdery. For me, it’s romantic, for winter, but I don’t consider it unisex; I’d be shocked to smell it on a man.

• Portrait of a lady

  June 11, 2016

  

  This fragrance is pure poetry. It has something very nostalgic, as if you were transported back to the scents of your childhood. A beautiful experience that even made me cry, something that never happens with another fragrance. It’s classified for women, but in my opinion, it’s unisex despite being floral and powdery. It’s a classic that every enthusiast should know. Given its personality, I think it’s more suitable for winter.

• Haruna

  February 26, 2016

  

  Right now, as I write this, it’s ‘the blue hour’ that inspired Guerlain to create this old icon that I now wear with pride. It’s sweet but soft, with a warm character; it doesn’t bring me sadness, but tranquility and satisfaction. On my skin, neroli, iris, narcissus, vetiver, and vanilla stand out, especially the anise, giving it a rich and relaxing support. I don’t find it obsolete; I wanted it to have a feminine and timeless scent without smelling heavy. Good and long-lasting longevity, medium sillage. Recommended if you’re looking for something almost legendary.

• Haruna

  April 20, 2015

  

  I never had curiosity for this Guerlain fragrance until ‘Mitsouko’, ‘Shalimar’, or ‘Samsara’ diverted my attention. ‘L’Heure Bleue’ is calm, warm, and poetic, with a magical and unusual atmosphere. Its enigmatic scent, which reminds me of fine incense, made me think of a caress or a subtle embrace, nothing invasive. The girl who showed it to me said it represents the hour of darkness and that it’s hard to identify the notes. I tried it on blotter paper and then on skin: it was a sweet companion, a warm and seductive kiss I wanted to keep close. It’s very feminine, timeless, and with refined sweetness. This old jewel is now on my wishlist. Medium longevity and sillage. A beauty!

• Selene

  May 24, 2014

  

  It’s impossible not to think of Apres l’Ondee, but L’Heure Bleue is more ambitious, capturing that magical moment between sun and night. It’s powerful and emotional, with melancholic tints that transport you to the past. Unlike its predecessor, it’s spicier; the clove is present all the time, balanced with iris and heliotrope, while the carnation is secondary. The citrus notes are more noticeable in the EDT than in my EDP. I’m fascinated by it, though I understand it’s hard for many to grasp.

• Selene

  April 28, 2014

  

  It’s impossible not to talk about the resemblance to Apres l’Ondée. However, L’Heure Bleue is more ambitious, trying to capture that magical moment between sunset and night, that particular transition of nature that envelops the fragrance. From the first spray, we know we’re facing something powerful and emotional, with melancholic tints from bygone eras. It’s almost impossible not to travel through time. Unlike Apres l’Ondée, it’s spicier; clove is present throughout the life, well-balanced with iris and heliotrope. The carnation plays a secondary role. I imagine the citrus notes are more noticeable in the EDT than in my EDP. To my taste, it fascinates me, though I understand it’s hard to comprehend for many people.

• mentalola

  April 19, 2014

  

  I think it’s a wonderful and different fragrance. It absolutely doesn’t reflect sadness to me; on the contrary. It’s like an afternoon in summer in an open and fragrant field, with a powdery halo that I love. In fact, Guerlain created it with the intention of turning ‘the blue hour’, that moment of the sky sought by French impressionists, into a scent. For me, it’s complex, different… and unique.

• pablOSO

  December 30, 2012

  

  Does anyone remember those little heart-shaped candies that came in a sachet, smelling of roses and leaving a talc sensation on your hands? L’Heure Bleue is exactly that magic, but in a bottle. It’s coquettish, tender, and romantic, though it carries a beautiful sadness. To my taste, it’s a gorgeous unisex perfume.

• Raquel73

  December 13, 2012

  

  On my skin, Guerlain perfumes practically don’t work for me; excluding the latest launches, they’re all quite unisex for me. The sadness part I’ve read many people say. Some claim that if sadness had a scent, this would be it. I haven’t had the chance to try it, but I certainly would have loved to experience this scent.