Les Heures de Parfum - XIII La Treizième Heure
Cartier (2009)

La Treizieme Heure XIII is perhaps the most 'remote' fragrance I own. Resolute in its distance, its distant birch smolder and herbaceous wafts elude me. It's like when the person you most admire is the one that is the most aloof to your advances, pulling you in, yet ever retreating as you reach out. Yet none of this disappoints me—maybe its just a bit of masochism, but its almost holographic nature is irresistible. I can't decide of there is hay-scented suede or suede-scented hay here. My mind can't quite conjure up clear images as I sniff: a mate reads as tea, tobacco, and bittersweet grasses all at once; eminently agrestic in feel, growing more like pine-smoked Lapsang Souchong over time.

Even a soft, dry vanilla doesn't harness this enigmatic scent, as it remains an ashy birch leather just out of focus, with just the slightest pungency nibbling at my nostrils. This fooled me into thinking it was some gossamer wisp on its first and second wear, but then by the third year, it clicked. Magic made itself known. More sensible fragrance wearers would wonder why it would be even worth it to take that long to "get" it, but does an action movie fan have the patience for Godard? I almost want to say this epitomizes quiet luxury, but somehow that ends up coming off as trite. Nonetheless, I said it. However, I will also say, with unmitigated conviction, that this solidifies my belief that Mathilde Laurent is an underrated genius.

You know that feeling, when everyone else around you are laughing but you cannot even force a chuckle because you don't know what's funny and you get this overwhelming feeling like you've missed something? When some event, person, or whatnot clogs up your news feed, everyone you know seems to be talking about it, and you try to keep up and get informed but you just don't understand what everyone is going-on about? If you're at all familiar with this feeling, you then know what's going through my mind when I first smelled XIII. I intentionally try not to read too many peoples' thoughts on notes, performance, and such, before trying a perfume so I can go through the mental exercise of trying to figure it out for myself without bias - so, all I read about XIII is that it's one of the best/favorites of the Cartier Les Heures line. So here I am in the first few minutes of the perfume, very confused, but then fast forward by nearly 45min and I realize that might be an intentional effect since this perfume seems to be a shape shifter - or at least it's behaving that way on my skin. When I first sprayed myself, back of my hands, inside forearms, and neck, I was greeted with this loud, slightly sharp, hissy, chemical and medicinal, camphoraceous, and sort-of petroleum or rubbery note. My eyebrows furl and I'm asking myself, "What the *&#! is that??" By the time I think I've figured it out... it's gone, disappears like light after the switch is flipped to off, and I'm lost again. All that remains is a very clean musk type accord that is extremely close to the skin. Then, I wonder if I got a bad sample. Many minutes go by and nothing happens, so I reapply a bit more to my right arm. Bam! That weird top note strikes again, and it sticks around only just long enough for me to put my finger on it: it is probably the strangest black tea note I have ever smelled. I'm not a tea expert by any means; it's not my thing, I have precious little experience with teas. Perhaps I need to change that; XIII is definitely making me think so. The reapplication was the right call, but I'll be paying for it later (read on). As I mentioned, it took about 45 minutes before I really began to see what XIII does. The tea note dies down, and the clean musk note becomes even more apparent (obviously because of my reapplication) and I finally recognize what I thought was musk is a white floral note that is all indoles and no floral. Only minutes later does this perfume really begin to bloom, and I do mean bloom in the way that smoke suddenly starts billowing from your oven. That simile is meant mostly to be visual because, while XIII does have a smokey element, it's not a run-out-of-the-house or find-the-fire-extinguisher smokey element. This blooming stage of XIII is characterized by a birch tar and leather accord. Both of these do/can frequently come across as no different from the other, but Mathilde Laurent keeps them distinguishable: there is a definite birch tar note that is refined, and exceptionally smooth, like the cleanest lingering smoke and ash of a white-wood fire that you could possibly smell; the leather note is soft, well-worn, animalic, refined, smooth, and plush. It's extremely addictive to find these notes - for once, since it seems to be very rare - so tame yet no-less confident than we find them in most other perfumes that showcase them. Within 90 minutes the patchouli and vanilla have also joined in, but, they aren't party crashers, they're invited guests and keep to the mandate previously ascribed to the birch and leather: refined, unobtrusive and smooth, gently adding a fresh earth, slightly gourmand, and slightly sweet quality. Now, at this point, since I got a little overzealous with the application, I have to freely admit that XIII is a bit loud in its projection and sillage, and getting louder as time goes on. But, despite me having screwed up, it never starts shouting at me. The way Mathilde Laurent has handled the materials in this perfume is remarkable and exceptional. These are loud and brash materials (typically), but Laurent is an expert lion tamer and she shows that she is fully capable of keeping these beasts docile and in-line to where the lions act like regal house cats purring and gracefully slinking around. She walks each lion through the different acts, and gives you a remarkable show of her skills and just how beautiful they can be. XIII took me on a mental and emotional journey, from bewildered and shocked, to weak-at-the-knees and fully captivated. What a fantastic perfume.

There's no way to avoid the elephant in the room: XIII, for all of its virtues, is very clearly Mathilde Laurent's reworking of Le Labo Patchouli 24, made by Annick Menardo (Menardo would go on to rework her own creation herself in Une Nuit Nomade Memory Hotel). If you can get past the lack of novelty, Laurent's creation boasts a greater level of refinement than that in the Le Labo.

The Le Labo falters insofar as it does not establish to satisfactory connective tissue to unite the smoky birch tar in the top with the waxy vanilla base (in this way Patchouli 24 feels somewhat unfinished, lurching from top to base). Laurent's XIII finds a solution to this problem through the addition of mate, which has enough kinship with the birch tar to function as a bridge.

XIII's strong vegetal-floral heart, built from that mate and an abstracted narcissus note, gives this smoky, balsamic vanilla scent a very green feeling. The smoke is also much softer here, shifted away from the "leather jacket" tones of the Le Labo towards a cozier posture. XIII an introspective, contemplative scent, a bit like standing in a garden on a cool morning while wafts from a distant wood stove drift in on the air.

It's beautiful, but it's quite aloof, which means it calls for a rare kind of mood. It's also very linear, which means that mood doesn't evolve very much, so you have to be willing to devote your time to its headspace.

Tauer’s Lonestar Memories opened the gates to heavily smoky, tarry scents that perhaps wouldn’t have been considered ‘perfumes’ before it existed. It held the promise of a new, rugged terrain coming into view, where a freedom of being in the natural world could loosen the bonds of social obligation. Cartier’s thirteenth hour offering follows in those footsteps, but it is a quieter explosion of birch tar and leather, meaty, almost gamey but handled lightly, with the lingering perception of smouldering embers. A high, singing anise accent sets off the whole thing, a breath of freshness. This is the more socialized call of the wild, buffed up for the salon.

I love L'heure Treizieme XIII. To me, it smells like an ancient old wooden castle door! Could also smell like the burned lining of oak barrels in which whiskey is stored. Nonetheless, it smells very medieval. I love it. What I don't like is that Cartier decided to change the bottle. It is no longer the gradient brown bottle with a beautiful clear cap, but now comes in a boring clear bottle with what looks like a plastic cap wrapped in purple string. Very incongruous with the scent inside the bottle. I wish they would have left the packaging alone. The new packaging looks cheap compared to the distinguished intriguing old bottle style. Go figure. Who exactly at Cartier is in charge of making these stupid decisions??? I ordered a bottle from Neiman Marcus, and I'm hoping the formulation hasn't changed because the bottle has changed. I know when they changed the bottlel design for Red Door (by Elizabeth Arden), they went and changed the formulation, too, and NOT for the better. Red Door is now watered down and smells like a boring rose water, not the rich and decadent amber rose smell that lasted all week. The new Red Door sucks, and I won't be surprised to see its sales plummet and it eventually discontinued. Shame on EA Fragrances for changing that classic bottle and formulation. Many classic fragrances have gone by the wayside, e.g., Balenciaga Pour Homme, Cristobal, Polo Crest, Ralph Lauren Monogram, Boss Spirit by Hugo Boss, Rush For Men by Gucci, the original vintage Gucci Pour Homme, Fendi Uomo, Fendin for women, Insense by Givenchy, Moods by Krizia, etc. It's criminal!

The 13th Hour is here!! Cartier's La Treizième Heure - part of the "Les Heures de Parfum" niche collection - comes across as classy, refined, well-crafted, legitimate fragrance that either gender can wear.

La Treizième Heure has a pronounced leather accord, with a clear smokiness inspired by the presence of birch. Smooth cashmeran and gritty, earthy mate powder, and deep green leafiness of narcissus, arise and lend a sense of depth and freshness. Comparisons can be made to Replica by the Fireplace by Martin Margiela, both having that "burnt" quality which I and many (not all) seem to enjoy.

Except for occasional whiffs of patchouli and vanilla, La Treizième Heure tends to stay linear in its blazing glory. It's a love it or hate it fragrance, warranting a test spray before buying any size of it. But overall, I am impressed by La Treizième Heure and give it a strong thumbs up! :-)