When you live in the perfumed world I do, it can come as a sudden jolt to the senses to smell something so patently synthesized to smell ozonic, oceanic: searingly ultra-modern and fresh.
Rose Atlantic, a name that piques my aesthetics, is just that: roses awash in sea spray and sunlight. Lunging, zesting rose notes, doused in citrus provide an enlivening beginning, while underneath, a perturbing array of notes ( ‘salt spray rose accord’, ‘dune grass’, muscone and ‘salt grass’) provide the plausibly oceanographic backdrop.
Clean, oblivious (an obvious paen to the Great Outdoors and the yachting life), this brisk, well-made perfume is not something I could ever wear myself – it made me feel like an alien when I had it on my skin, reptilian, cold, moist – but I can definitely imagine quite pleasurably encountering it on some hale, North American optimist – all perfect white teeth and smiling clean new sports clothes – as he or she hits the water.