Phtaloblue

Fennel's licorice-tinged snap dominates immediately, with lemon and bergamot providing citrus brightness rather than juiciness—the overall impression is herbaceous and slightly acrid, like citrus zest brushed against fennel fronds. Within two minutes, you sense something marine lurking beneath, a subtle saltiness suggesting this isn't headed toward traditional fresh territory.

The rock samphire emerges around the thirty-minute mark, transforming the fragrance's character entirely; suddenly there's an iodine-tinged minerality that makes the geranium's peppery spice feel grounded rather than floral. Orange blossom adds a subtle creaminess that the synthetic accords push skyward, creating an almost ozone-like transparency that makes you recalibrate what "freshness" can mean.

By the fourth hour, tonka bean softens the composition's earlier austerity without compromising its inherent restraint; cedar's dry resinousness prevents this from becoming cuddly, whilst amber provides a subtle golden warmth. The fragrance settles into a quietly contemplative register—mineral, slightly woody, faintly sweet—that feels more like a memory of seaside clarity than the actuality itself.