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

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.