L’Heure Bleue Part II

I bought myself a bottle of vintage L’Heure Bleue. I think I’ll wear it when I want to feel hopeful about love. About happiness.

Tired from the garden but I’ll go back out once more for the day…
The house needs to be cleaned too though.

You know, you might wonder: Does Mark (the father of my two kids and the man I’m currently separated from) like a particular perfume on me? Or does he like to smell a particular perfume in general? Umm. Well… Short answer: No.

Dirt under my nails.

Actually, it’s kind of funny. He barely ever smells anything I wear and I can count on one hand the number of times he’s commented on my perfume. The one he seemed to like best was Casmir by Chopard. He made a positive comment on it once without being asked what he thought first (I’ve often asked).

Even though perfume is a hobby of mine that he has encouraged very kindly over the years me wearing perfume has not been “a thing” for us. I tried to make it one but it never happened.

While we were dating I fervently wore Dior Miss Dior Chérie, which is still a fragrance that evokes a lot of memories for me both good and bad. However, Mark barely recognizes Miss Dior Chérie. He’s not anosmic but…

Anyway… I love wearing L’Heure Bleue.

A few posts back I talked about how I hope to find my soulmate in the afterlife if I don’t find them while I’m alive. And, while that might sound fanciful or at worst idiotic to some people it’s something I actually genuinely comfort myself by contemplating at times. Not entirely seriously because I can’t logically do that of course but…I like to think that it’s not entirely impossible either. I take it both seriously and not.

Actually I’ve had two bizarre things happen to me that speak to it not being impossible.

Once I had a startling dream when I was a genuinely young lady. Some would likely call it a lucid dream. I met a young man who seemed to be my soulmate. And it really was almost like being awake. It felt real. I even felt like I was still with him as I woke up and it made me not want to wake up. He was just that wonderful of a man (provided he was supernatural of course and not just my imagination)…

Then once when Mark and I were visiting England we got into a bad fight late at night at a very old bed and breakfast in Penzance where we were staying and he later said that he saw weird lights flying over my head that he ignored at the time. (He wouldn’t make something like that up.) And while it happened I felt someone touch me. It felt like a human male hand. It scared me so much I froze and promptly asked Mark if he’d somehow managed to touch me from where he was. He hadn’t. We stopped fighting, quickly packed up all of our things and spent the rest of the night sleeping in our rented car.

Last night I read a review on Fragrantica about how L’Heure Bleue is a haunted fragrance. To me that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Not all non physical beings are likely good. But, I do wonder about Purgatory… And when life can feel like living Purgatory L’Heure Bleue is delightful. I look forward to wearing it again (I’m keeping my sealed bottle sealed). Also, to double-down on that I think I’ll buy Après L’Ondée in August around the time Mark and I were married.

Why not.