Matvey
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Matvey
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A frown and a childlike respite
For me, L'Heure Bleue is a personal, almost intimate fragrance with a special effect. Comments full of personal associations are one thing. They don't necessarily help to explain exactly how a fragrance smells. L'Heure Bleue is not a monothematic fragrance, and the listing of scents would not do justice to my impression. I can only name a few things objectively: Yes, carnation is an association I have with the smell. And the days I spent at work with beta-ionone I find myself gently reminded of it here. It would even fit in with the time of fragrance development, when synthetic fragrances were used in a very creative way. But that might be an illusion, because it sounds so conclusive to me. What's perhaps even more exciting is that I don't find the scent of carnation or beta-ionone alone very pleasant. My first reaction to the scent, however, is an immediate feeling of well-being - followed by a feeling of unruliness. And that's what I want to try to explain.
It begins with a diffuse memory, which is partly responsible for the calm, clear feeling I get when I smell L'Heure Bleue. It has something creamy at the beginning. I'm not talking about cream and vanilla sweetness, but real cream, maybe for the hands, maybe even Nivea. When I think about it, Nivea is almost the best comparison I could find, but probably wrong again. I feel transported back to my childhood self by the scent, which is soothingly creamed by its mother with a fragrant ointment. No melancholy, nothing wicked, and far from any twilight - it is a fragrance of security. A sigh of relief
However, over time, the secure feeling is broken by a stubborn note. It seems to me that adulthood suddenly throbs against the childish imagination. Let this note be carnation or whatever: something mature is added. Hah!: It "evolves". The chubby warmth cools down, complemented by rugged corners. No, it's nothing pungent, nothing biting. My friends and family just call what comes along old-fashioned. In the context of my fragrance description, this word fits in surprisingly seamlessly, but for my perception it would be too negative. What I feel is a bright, somewhat distanced tone with a polished sharpness. It is beautiful, but leaves me frowning. And a little bit it feels like the change from the fine cream to a piece of curd soap.
After several hours the fragrance regains a calm roundness and radiates more and more warmth. But from my perception of the fragrance, I like to wear L'Heure Bleue, but rarely. It is a fragrance for indifferent moods, if I can describe my own feelings as difficult as the fragrance itself. Definitely not a perfume that I wear for very social occasions. Most people find it takes getting used to me anyway, but maybe because of the mood I associate with it. It works best on cool, dry and bright days, possibly in autumn, and I only take one splash at a time. I haven't even mentioned that: even EdT does not lack strength and stamina. In high doses and in the long run it would even be penetrating. I can't always smell it that way. But every now and then I really need it, and sometimes I can express myself better with a scent than with a thousand words
Finally a nice experience, which I also associate with L'Heure Bleue:
When I bought the fragrance a good year and a half ago, a man in the perfumery promptly spoke to me enthusiastically: "A young man who buys L'Heure Bleue for himself?! - What followed was the best tour of a perfumery I've ever seen. It turned out that the man in question was the owner of another perfumery and was only a guest that day. And he apparently rarely saw this perfume, which he personally adored, being worn by men. And then also by young ones. From this he concluded (correctly!) that I am a perfume enthusiast and showed me his very personal favorites including the story behind them.
It begins with a diffuse memory, which is partly responsible for the calm, clear feeling I get when I smell L'Heure Bleue. It has something creamy at the beginning. I'm not talking about cream and vanilla sweetness, but real cream, maybe for the hands, maybe even Nivea. When I think about it, Nivea is almost the best comparison I could find, but probably wrong again. I feel transported back to my childhood self by the scent, which is soothingly creamed by its mother with a fragrant ointment. No melancholy, nothing wicked, and far from any twilight - it is a fragrance of security. A sigh of relief
However, over time, the secure feeling is broken by a stubborn note. It seems to me that adulthood suddenly throbs against the childish imagination. Let this note be carnation or whatever: something mature is added. Hah!: It "evolves". The chubby warmth cools down, complemented by rugged corners. No, it's nothing pungent, nothing biting. My friends and family just call what comes along old-fashioned. In the context of my fragrance description, this word fits in surprisingly seamlessly, but for my perception it would be too negative. What I feel is a bright, somewhat distanced tone with a polished sharpness. It is beautiful, but leaves me frowning. And a little bit it feels like the change from the fine cream to a piece of curd soap.
After several hours the fragrance regains a calm roundness and radiates more and more warmth. But from my perception of the fragrance, I like to wear L'Heure Bleue, but rarely. It is a fragrance for indifferent moods, if I can describe my own feelings as difficult as the fragrance itself. Definitely not a perfume that I wear for very social occasions. Most people find it takes getting used to me anyway, but maybe because of the mood I associate with it. It works best on cool, dry and bright days, possibly in autumn, and I only take one splash at a time. I haven't even mentioned that: even EdT does not lack strength and stamina. In high doses and in the long run it would even be penetrating. I can't always smell it that way. But every now and then I really need it, and sometimes I can express myself better with a scent than with a thousand words
Finally a nice experience, which I also associate with L'Heure Bleue:
When I bought the fragrance a good year and a half ago, a man in the perfumery promptly spoke to me enthusiastically: "A young man who buys L'Heure Bleue for himself?! - What followed was the best tour of a perfumery I've ever seen. It turned out that the man in question was the owner of another perfumery and was only a guest that day. And he apparently rarely saw this perfume, which he personally adored, being worn by men. And then also by young ones. From this he concluded (correctly!) that I am a perfume enthusiast and showed me his very personal favorites including the story behind them.
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