Notes: bergamot, aniseed, carnation, orange blossom, heliotrope, Bulgarian rose, tuberose, iris, vanilla, musk
L'Heure Bleue is one of those scents for which a list of notes does absolutely no justice. Sure there's spicy carnation and orange blossom, but they're submerged in a big vat of cold cream with a weird, almost mentholated quality. It smells of old face powder and lipsticks scented with rose, like the inside of a woman's handbag in the 50s. There's also a good dose of iris, but more creamy than rooty. As it dries down, there's a rich vanilla note that makes me think of pastries, like the giant almond croissants from Bonaparte (in the Fells Point neighborhood of Baltimore). And I have no doubt that Guerlain's newer fragrance, Iris Ganache, was strongly inspired by L'Heure Bleue, amping up the pastry quality by adding the extra sweetness of white chocolate.
Nearly 100 years old now, L'Heure Bleue still stands head and shoulders above most of the newer fragrances on the market today, more timeless than old fashioned.