Les Heures de Parfum

No, this rose is not cute! It hates girly, baby doll, pastel pink or layettes. It is the pink that flushes the cheeks. It is blushing and bright, and this rose boasts only four letters: dare! Fearless, it's the Hour of the exploding rose. An unprecedented pink, in touch with its time, with what is fresh and pop.

Silence was on the prowl. You could hear it breathing, lurking like desire. The calmness felt only temporary. Drowsiness gained life, slow jasmine and heavy PATCHOULI. This was the time for listening to your heart beat at the edge of abandon, like a reverse countdown, a voyage into the intimate where everything wraps up yet unravels. Withdraw and center your mind on your sacred inner self, reaching into the seat of your consciousness. Was it day elemi gum, CORIANDER? Was it night incense, FRANKINCENSE? Soon you must leave the juniper dusk... but not quite yet. First, savor L'HEURE MYSTÉRIEUSE for just one hour – no longer, that's a promise – extracted from deep within, and rediscover your own personal roots.

It was red she wanted, the blush of excitement, the tumescence of bitten lips strawberry flesh, the carnation in his buttonhole. Moving closer, driving him crazy, shedding her shyness to wrap herself in the steamy, playful, sensuous frills of CRÈME DE MARRON. No more stage fright, just a rhythmic dance in the aura of a velvet stage curtain iris notes, spotlights following her body. Look, here's my velvety shoulder CLOVE NOTES, there are my swaying curves, I vanish the better to come back to you, all legwork and pouting lips. Do you love my legs? The nape of my neck? The small of my back? Look, I'm your lover unveiled at L'HEURE CONVOITÉE, dressed in my powdered skin, my red lingerie red rose notes flying off in a peal of laughter FRESH GREEN NOTES. And what if I said “vous” to you, just for show, like Juliette Gréco singing: “Undress me, but not too soon, not too fast, learn to covet me, captivate me!”. Déshabillez-moi, song written by Robert Nyel and composed by Gaby Verlor

It was time to capture a life full of fresh early mornings, Petit grain, FRESH HERBS at the dawn of intentions. Everything seemed possible – love, creation, belief. The time had come to embrace the day, comforted by self-confidence and honesty IRIS, and to fly or walk in the first glimmers of a spring of existence. The sheer newness was just waiting to be explored like an undiscovered continent bathed in hope, with the promise of cherishing the moment a little longer while everything remained quiet. Prolonging, preserving the moment: L'HEURE PROMISE by Cartier. An eiderdown of fragrance sandalwood, for leaving the night behind without affronting sleep. Outside, I sense, like a veil of tulle MUSK NOTES, my own deciding scent – that of my destiny unfolding and of an adventure that is anxious to take place.

The world stirred, preparing its early morning with freshness and joy… washed. That first gleam of light that caressed the eyelashes was soft peony notes, we could have bathed in the clear fountain for its transparency, for its sheer blossoming of life ROSE. Mouth, neck and shoulders, it mingled with the air naturally, untamed and fresh lychee notes, like a smile that still recalls the child. Everything seemed new and bright at the floral source of the silver thread AMBER WOOD of this shining HEURE DIAPHANE whose exquisite reflections dissolved everything, wrapping ionones in a cloud of pure emotion.

There are moments when everything can be transformed, when it is impossible to distinguish the real from the unreal. An affair of exact seduction, leather notes, (MATÉ), (BIRCH), an object of desire (NARCISSUS), and a metamorphosis between shadow and light (BERGAMOT) is at work. This is a time for breathing in emptiness and braving adventure patchouli where LA TREIZIÈME HEURE glides sensually VANILLA and fatally upon the skin like a sentiment, an exquisite dizziness of the unknown. Then, we are no longer able to distinguish the true from the false, the night from the day, and we surrender to the realm of the vague, the clear darkness of Nature that makes everything unique and possible.

The moment was electric, charged with lemony, SWEET LIME energy. The unexpected laid down the law. The start was announced. Outside, the world accelerated. The hour when everything lights up, like neon longing to consume, had arrived. Refusing to abstain from anything, invigorating yourself with acidity, feeling the vibrating rhythm of the street and pounding the asphalt in a wild yet lucid undertaking. And drinking to life's gin notes, to the falling night, to parties past and to those that are yet to be invented in moments of rapture. For Time is radiant ALDEHYDES, and happiness is in tune with these bodies that are charged with fantasy, the invigorating thrill of L'HEURE BRILLANTE, which pours forth like a spicy drop.