Nothing but Sea and Sky Une Nuit Nomade 2020

It's the late 50s. I'm sitting on the veranda, wrapped in a woolen blanket. A small house on a beach, with a choppy, turbulent sea right in front of me. The sky is cloudy and gray, seagulls make their rounds above me.

Why am I there? A doctor diagnosed me with hysteria due to my stubborn, feminine disposition and suggested that I should be sent to the sea, as this could probably have a positive effect on the furor caused by fanatical feminist ideas that is now common among women.
My family agreed, luckily we had a lonely cottage by the sea and it was time for me to normalize myself so that I could perhaps find a sensible man.
What the doctor couldn't know, of course, was that I had my required reading of Simone de Beauvoir's "The Opposite Sex" with me, which would only encourage me further in my renitence.

To clear my mind a little, I decide to go for a walk. I dig my toes into the cold sand, let the spray wash over my legs and feel the sun's rays breaking through the thick cloud cover tickle my salty skin.
A lonely, dry piece of driftwood lies on the white sand. I briefly consider throwing it back into the sea, but I pause and decide to take it back to my hut. I watch the seagulls gliding weightlessly through the air and wish I could fly with them to see the rough sea from above. Funnily enough, I don't mind my solitude by the sea one bit.

Fast forward 70 years. In the meantime, no doctor can attest to female hysteria, feminist ideas are no longer fanaticism but have reached a broad population and my family doesn't own a lonely house by the sea either. But I'm still stubborn and unmarried.

When I spray on "Une Nuit à Montauk - Nothing but Sea and Sky | Une Nuit Nomade", I still feel this melancholy, this longing for the sea and the vague feeling of being far away from home. This world-weariness that the fragrance conveys for me is beautiful and deeply touching.

For me, absolutely no tropical fragrance, vacation scent or coconut feeling, instead salty, rough sea, observed from the cozy embrace of a woolen blanket. Somehow comforting, this gentle breeze of dry wood and fresh sea air. It is scratchy and salty at first and then becomes creamier and very close to the skin as it progresses. Nevertheless, it retains its own scent, which can be clearly distinguished from the scent of the skin.

Not a sillage monster, not a night-out fragrance, but something quite indescribable that everyone must give meaning to for themselves.