Citrus

Candied fruits smell like the nostalgic sweetness of a traditional sweet shop—imagine biting into a glazed orange peel or a jewel-bright preserved apricot. It's citrus stripped of its fresh, zesty bite and wrapped instead in a honeyed, almost caramelised warmth. There's a jammy thickness to it, with subtle spice notes (think cinnamon or clove) lurking beneath the sugar. It's comforting rather than sharp, reminiscent of marmalade or the aroma wafting from a Victorian kitchen during confectionery-making.

Oriental

Frankincense smells like walking into an ancient temple during incense ceremony—warm, slightly woody, with a subtle sweetness reminiscent of honey and old paper. There's a peppery, almost medicinal sharpness underneath, like the smell of a spice bazaar, combined with a dry, resinous warmth comparable to burning cedar wood. It's slightly creamy and balsamic, with whispers of citrus and pine. Imagine inhaling the aroma from inside a leather-bound antique book left in sunshine—that complexity and depth.