Fresh

Aldehydes smell like a crisp, almost electric freshness—imagine the sharp, waxy brightness of a newly opened bar of soap, or that clean snap you get when you peel the white pith from inside a lemon skin. There's a slightly soapy, almost metallic quality that's oddly luxurious and powdery. They're not quite fruity or citrus themselves, but rather the *idea* of cleanliness—the scent of polished surfaces and starched linen. Some find them slightly peppery or even a touch metallic, like touching a cool stainless steel sink on a bright morning.

Floral

Lily-of-the-valley smells like springtime captured in a bottle—delicate, almost ethereal, with a waxy, slightly honeyed sweetness. Imagine walking through a shaded woodland garden after rain, where tiny white bell-shaped flowers release a soft, green-tinged floral that's both innocent and mysteriously sensual. There's a creamy, almost soapy quality, reminiscent of lily pollen and fresh laundry dried in the sun, with whispers of pale fruit underneath. It's tender rather than heady, whispering rather than shouting.