Côte d'Amour (2009)
by L'Artisan Parfumeur

Let me start off by saying that this is a really enjoyable scent. It stands out, it smells nice, and it's very pleasant and very sniffable. I think it most certainly showcases the talent of Céline Ellena. It's just "not me." It is just a wee bit too feminine in a floral and powdery way. In that region of perfumery, my comfort limit is probably Kenzo Power. If you can imagine a seaside version of Kenzo Power with a bit more exposure of the florals, a bit more restraint on the powder, and only a hint of woody and traditionally masculine notes, you would have something close to Côte d'Amour.

The fragrance starts off with a fresh aromatic and slightly floral feel, which is quite nice. I detect some subtle notes which feel a lot like its sister scent, L'Eau de Jatamansi - but in a very nice familial homage way, not in a copying way. This may be the grapefruit and mandarin. In any case, it is a bit "zingy" (Mike P.'s word), but not quite as much as Jatamansi. It has that same clarity which foetidus noted in Jatamansi, too. As the scent progresses, it provides a significant shot of powder/soap. This is very sniffable, and it does seem to capture one's full attention. It is not at all incompatible with the maritime image. There is actually a bit of sillage - it was competing successfully with dog odor as my dog, overdue for a bath, was riding around with me in the truck. I don't detect a lot of wood in the drydown. The base is extremely subtle, but nice. I know that other reviewers get a strong marine or salt component for the duration of the scent, but I really only get a mild (but long-lived) maritime presence. This may be due to my skin. Nevertheless, I do get a very strong white and blue association with the scent - a color theme very successfully exploited by the scent's packaging. I initially feared some kind of sea monster - perhaps a beast called "Caloone" - but no - there is nothing here to fear.

This scent gives me the image of a beautiful woman on the deck of a ship in the morning breeze, while the sun is still low and obscured by lingering clouds. She's clean, and fresh, and wearing a white terrycloth robe. The wind blows her hair, and she smiles as she leans against the railing and looks out over the ocean, waiting just a bit before she plots a new course to somewhere exciting and adventurous. Meanwhile, I'm on the shore, skipping rocks, walking my dog, and breathing in my Sel de Vétiver. I imagine what it must be like to be on a ship. We will never meet, but it's OK. C'est l'amour.