Spicy

Fenugreek smells like warm maple syrup mixed with fresh hay and a whisper of burnt sugar—imagine walking past a bakery on a cool morning where someone's just caramelised something sweet. There's an earthy, almost celery-like greenness underneath, but it's wrapped in spicy warmth that feels slightly gourmand and comforting. It's less aggressive than other spices; instead, it's honeyed and slightly nutty, like toasted cumin has been mellowed with cream. If nutmeg had a softer cousin, fenugreek would be it.

Oriental

Labdanum smells like walking into an ancient library where leather-bound books meet honeyed amber. It's warm, slightly resinous, and vaguely medicinal—imagine dried apricots dusted with incense, with a subtle leather undertone and a hint of barnyard earthiness. There's a sticky, almost tar-like quality that feels both precious and primal. It's the scent of luxurious comfort with an unexpected roughness, rather like wrapping yourself in a worn cashmere blanket that smells faintly of honey and smoke.