Oriental

Benzoin smells like sweetened vanilla cream kissed with caramel and a whisper of incense smoke. Imagine walking into a bakery where warm pastries have just emerged from the oven, then stepping into a Buddhist temple where resin smoulders on hot coals. It's honeyed and slightly powdery, with an almost medicinal undertone—like comforting cough sweets wrapped in silk. There's a subtle almond note too, creamy rather than sharp. It's deeply gourmand yet spiritual, simultaneously cosy and exotic.

Woody

Black musk is a dark, animalic embrace wrapped in woody warmth. Imagine the scent of soft suede leather left in the sun, blended with the intimate musk of skin, then deepened by smoky, almost burnt wood—like charred cedarwood. It's deeply sensual without being crude; there's an almost powdery, skin-like quality beneath the darker notes. It smells expensive, slightly illicit, and utterly magnetic—the olfactory equivalent of black silk against bare skin.