Pacific Rock Moss Goldfield & Banks 2016

My white cotton shirt lies air-dried on my chest. The wind wants to blow westward, sweeping strands of my copper-colored hair across my face. The tips of my hair tickle my nose, finding their way between my eyes and my Pantone sunglasses. I gaze at golden to champagne sparkling waves under the low-hanging sun. The unmistakable sounds of bickering oyster fishermen. My toes feel the sand; I haven't worn shoes for weeks. Sand, the spray, cold water, mud, and more sand. I turn around and see the others jumping from our daytona-red pickup. Carefree chatter, music, someone must have a speaker with them. I stand still, feeling the passing of others as the sand grains peel off my legs, exploded by them. I follow behind, feeling countless scallops under my soles. The roar of the surf grows louder. The bubbling surface of the water has now taken on a salmon hue, crashing onto sandbanks and rising at some beach sections against dark basalt towers. Salt settles on my skin, creeping over my lips. I can taste the endless expanse of the ocean.

Let’s set aside the fragrance pyramid and all the technicalities. I have tested various summer and sea scents. Light Blue does what you expect of it, Millesime has a sailing boat vibe, but none brings you to the shores of this world like Pacific Rock Moss does. This is what long, hot summers smell like. Days at the beach that seem never-ending, tropical nights, clinking ice cubes in fogged-up glasses. Yes, you smell moss, but not the 80s gray-suits-in-the-executive-suite alpha oak moss, but truly the saltwater-drenched green of rocks. You smell salt, you can almost taste it. But Pacific Rock Moss is also sweet, absolutely sweet. The simplest comparison would be to a classic long drink - but that’s also the most boring. No, Pacific Rock Moss smells like diced pineapples (shout out to Rozay x Drake) on bare caramel-colored skin, the fruit juice beading off and running in unsteady paths...