Citrus

Bergamot smells like someone's just peeled a ripe orange in bright morning sunlight—that initial burst of citrus sweetness combined with something distinctly floral and almost tea-like. It's lighter and more delicate than lemon or grapefruit, with a subtle bittersweet edge and a powdery, slightly herbaceous undertone that lingers. Imagine Earl Grey tea without the tannins, mixed with candied orange peel and a whisper of honeyed florals. It's simultaneously fresh and warm, crisp yet creamy.

Floral

Jasmine smells like honeyed sweetness wrapped in creamy silk. Imagine walking past a night-blooming garden after rain—you'll catch something intoxicating, almost indolic, with a touch of powder and subtle green leafiness. It's floral without being shrill; sensual without being cloying. There's a faint animalic warmth underneath, vaguely reminiscent of skin musk. The scent hovers between sophisticated perfume counter elegance and heady midnight romance—simultaneously delicate and deeply seductive.