Aquatic

Fleur de sel doesn't smell like salt in the literal sense—there's no briny, mineral punch. Instead, it captures something far more ethereal: the clean, crystalline quality of sea air meeting sun-warmed skin. Imagine standing on a Breton coastline at dawn, where salt crystals catch morning light and release a subtle, almost ozonic freshness—slightly peppery, whisper-thin, with a faint saline-mineral undertone. It's like smelling the memory of the ocean rather than the ocean itself, reminiscent of laundry dried in coastal wind.

Woody

Musk is the scent of warmth itself—imagine the gentle heat radiating from skin after exercise, mingled with soft suede and a whisper of vanilla. It's deeply intimate rather than floral or sharp; think of wrapping yourself in a cashmere blanket warmed by the sun, with a faint animalic undertone that's almost imperceptible. Pure musk has a powdery, almost imperceptible sweetness, like the inside of a lover's wrist or the comfort of well-loved fabric. It doesn't announce itself boldly; instead, it envelops and lingers on your skin like a second layer.