L'Heure Bleue Guerlain 1912 Eau de Toilette

I read some books at irregular intervals, including the wonderful autobiographical novel "Die Schönen und Verdammten" by Francis Scott Fitzgerald.

Gloria Gilbert and Anthony Patch are at the centre of this moving story. Two iridescent figures, idiosyncratic and gifted, wanderers between suffering and lust, emptiness and thirst for life, crashes and hope. They love the stormy heartbeat of the metropolis and the magnificent palette of beauty, sink into the dream of wealth and freedom and the wild, never-ending nights of the glamorous twenties. They are the shining star couple of every party, they live and celebrate decadently and freely.
Since both have little to gain from everyday life and conventional employment and have little pleasure at all in working, but all the more in consuming, the flow of big money stagnates; instead, plenty of tears and plenty of alcohol flow.

L'Heure Bleue is a fragrance that fits into this extravagant world - not because it captures the noisy flickering of untamed dance steps on shiny black parquet flooring, but because it swirls with all the ecstasy of escapism and reality, light and shadow.
He reveals violet-blue dream landscapes, underscores bitter tragedy,
glows pale coppery and white gold, is bitter and dry, flowery and powdery, complex and tenderly mysteriously interwoven.
It is a special, memorable scent, whose opulent carnation nostalgia certainly does not please everyone, it is not a scent for sober asceticism, it is one to be patiently fathomed to grasp its magic.
It heralds the end of one day and the beginning of the next, warm summer night magic and autumnal morning melancholy, when the hours of repentance and reflection dawn, when the glasses are emptied and the feet are sore danced.
When the pale sun unveils shine broken by grey stripes of cloud and wounded hearts, but the twilight leads back into the blue expanse, hand in hand, every day anew, illuminated by chandeliers, candlelight and hungry lurking souls.
A fragrance as special and fascinating as Gloria and Anthony and their whole colorful-abysmal cosmos.

And if Gloria Guerlain were to direct Guerlain's fate, perhaps this great classic would no longer exist, because when Anthony asks her "Don't you want to preserve the old? Everything beautiful grows only up to a certain height, then it begins to care, fades away and evaporates memories as it fades away. And just as every period of history passes in our minds, so also the things belonging to that period of time should pass away; in this way they will be preserved for a while in the few hearts that are receptive to it - in mine, for example."

L'Heure Bleue does not pass away, it preserves its beauty and continues to grow, like all that is good and precious, destined to stay and grow, and will reach some hearts in all times.