A moment with two Les Heures

I consider these little sample vials precious, so haven't hit them much.  Yesterday was the third time, in fact.  But it may be the first time it was just them, all day.  XII and XIII, that is.  First time all alone, perhaps because sometimes I'll try something on bare skin but after something else already is developing...the "I'm so excited to see this I want to try some now!" slip.  Or perhaps because one of the times I was for sure in a sniffing orgy with a friend in perfume.

This time, just me, those two vials, and passing hours.

Out of the bottle (vial), they continued to be what all the first reports were.  One bitter tea patch mash up, the other cold earth spice spiked leather.  NO, more than that.  I'll come back to that, in fact, because they are complex and interesting and challenging and I'm still not sure if I am seduced by them but I am intrigued.

It's the creature that comes out after that seduced me.  My goodness, folks...these things morph.  And for all the demands the opening makes, the drydown is...easily beautiful.  Hints of Attrape-Couer wafting in the air above your skin, kind of like how En Passant can sometimes haunt you with Apres L'Ondee.  Which means you can start your spray/day projecting I Am Complex and Interesting And You Will Have To Spend Some Time With Me to Figure Me Out (Though It May Not Be Easy).

And then end it with purrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

I am making a note to return to this, to do a more traditional job of catching XII and XIII in words.  But for now, I thought I had to share.  Share the discovery that yes, after hours and hours of catching whiffs of this delightful, deep, and yet ghostly cloud, I was able to confirm that it came from spending time with The Hours.

If you find yourself in a position to sample them, do so.  And sample nothing else.  (Fight that urge!  Fight it!!  Bring vials, remember?  Make up samples to take home.  Nothing on your skin but Time!!!)  Then engage with those openings...they're doozies.  But wait for the waft in the drydown.  I am telling you, I think Mathilde Laurent is haunting herself.


See Denyse Beaulieu's reviews of XII and XIII in her wonderful Grain de Musc blog.  She'll take you through the notes, as well as illuminate backstory to their creation.  These reviews are part of a series on Les Heures, along with an interview of perfumer Mathilde Laurent.  


☛ My sample of XII and XIII was prepared by me in a Cartier store, with permission from the sales associate.  I *have* mentioned keeping vials with you, yes?

Aimez-Moi

The last time I discussed Caron, it was all things Homme. And I did enjoy my lavender excursions (Third Man, pour Homme, L'Anarchiste), but yesterday, for whatever reason, I turned to the Aimez-Moi.

I had been avoiding this one, thinking it would be too froufy, too sweet. Kind of ironic to then go for it *after* the manfumes, no?

I liked it. A lot.

It does open rather sweetly, but there's something--the anise?--which keeps it from being cloying. And oh, my, but the drydown is lovely and haunting. Perhaps it was the perfect way to start the day. You start with a delicious pastry, not too complicated, but well done, with a good balance of sweet to spice and the right amount of dough to anchor it all. You leave that behind, thinking you enjoyed your repast, and move on with your day. A couple of hours later, you discover yourself turning around to find out what smells so good. It's you, with a rich, Caron-ish drydown, a haunting of a cloud that has dropped the sweet confection and turned into a chiaroscuro brew that hovers close to your skin.

Don't worry...I'll get to straight talk. Soon. I'm going to try this one again.

******
afterglow update...

That was all written from recollection. The power of the drydown veil, perhaps? Not only that, but I think full disclosure demands that I reveal I have been on a bit of a L'Heure Bleu bender...started on Saturday, been groovin' it ever since. Until I switched to Aimez-Moi yesterday. Think that might have changed my pre-dis position toward the sweet at all?

I won't change my words, because that was how I felt at the conclusion of my first encounter with Aimez-Moi. But I feel compelled to tell you...it might go on more like a liquified candy poured onto a thin tart base. Please, be patient. Give it a chance to morph. Try it when you are open to sweet reverie, or when it's chilly enough to hide some behind a sleeve. Remember, despite the power of the openingit's gonna play hide and seek a bit.

If you do try it, if you have tried it, tell me what you think.