100 years ago, Guerlain launched a perfume called L’Heure Bleue, composed by the master perfumer Jacques Guerlain. It is meant to be evocative of that fragile moment when the evening sky is not quite dark, but the sun is gone, and it achieves a color known as “Maxfield Parrish Blue”.  It is a time of day when everything pauses for a moment to reflect and wonder.

Stars by Maxfield Parrish

When I was young, I bought a bottle of L’Heure Bleue. It was a fairly small bottle of parfum. I remember the experience of smelling its amazing beauty for the first time and deciding that I must have it. I even remember the department store counter and the kind woman who helped me with it. Somewhere along the way, I used it up, lost it, broke it, spilled it, or whatever happens to perfume when you are a teenager moving from place to place. I never forgot my love for it, though, and currently own both the slightly fickle Eau de Parfum and the intensely beautiful Parfum. It is a fragrance that makes my eyes close with sheer pleasure every time I put it on, largely inspired by my longtime love for the otherworldly aroma.

Blue by Lindsay Malboeuf

It was with both curiosity and mild skepticism that I received the news of a new version of L’Heure Bleue being commissioned by Guerlain to commemorate its centennial. It was with vast relief that I learned it was not to be a replacement but an addition to the Les Parisiennes collection. Perfumer Thierry Wasser, who has done some really great work both for Guerlain and other houses, was tasked with what could possibly be a daunting project. But, he has managed to create alternative versions of Shalimar (Ode à la Vanille and Parfum Initial) that were well-received by even die-hard Shalimar fans, so there was hope.

Seizure (detail) by Roger Hiorns

Thanks to a perfume Fairy Godmother, I received a decant of this new Eau de Parfum, called L’Heure de Nuit. I was glad it was not a L’Heure Bleue de La-di-da flankery sort of name, but a name that merely suggests its inspiration fragrance. The perfume itself is a lovely periwinkle blue color, which I think is a nice touch. It looks very pretty in its classic bee bottle.

Blue Orange by Mark Rothko

My first impression of L’Heure de Nuit was that of L’Heure Bleue in crystallized form, like a candied violet. It is sweet, and the heliotrope that gives L’Heure Bleue that sense of meditative isolation that the blue hour can bring has been scaled back. The sweetness, in its crystalline form, is appropriate, and welcome, with no caramel or stickiness. It is a fitting foundation for the slightly chilly iris heart that rests among more welcoming flowers.  The far drydown is the least satisfying part of the composition. I felt a little cheated by its rather wan quality, and wanted to reapply after a few hours.

I can tell that L’Heure de Nuit was formulated to appeal to a broader, possibly younger audience, and I think it will. It’s not a teenage scent at all, but a person who is not ready for one of the lush, grande dame Guerlains would do well with this. I mentioned that the L’Heure Bleue Eau de Parfum could be fickle, and I do need to wear it on just the right kind of day, and be in the mood for it, or it will be uncomfortable to wear despite its beauty. L’Heure de Nuit is much more forgiving.

If I had unlimited funds, I would have to commemorate my love for L’Heure Bleue and my embrace of this addition to the family by purchasing a fantastic set of original parfum and three new interpretations of it [L’Aurore (EdT), Le Zénith (EdP) and Le Crépuscule (Parfum)] at a whopping £3000. More realistically, I hope to eventually add the pretty bee bottle to my collection instead.

Notes (extrapolated from various sources): white musk, orange blossom, iris, heliotrope, jasmine, rose and sandalwood.

–Tama Blough, Senior Editor