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

Orris smells like powdered iris root mixed with subtle violet—imagine walking into a high-end cosmetics counter where face powder sits beside fresh violets. It's creamy and slightly woody, with an almost buttery softness that feels both ethereal and grounding. There's a whisper of earthiness (like damp soil after rain) underpinning delicate floral notes. Pure orris root carries a faint aniseed sweetness and a dry, mineral quality reminiscent of old library paper or iris petals pressed between pages. It's sophisticated without being perfumey—genuinely calming.