Woody

Gaiac wood smells like the interior of a old wooden chest that's been storing precious things for decades—dry, slightly smoky, with an almost medicinal warmth. There's a peculiar sweetness beneath, reminiscent of burnt sugar or caramelised honey, but grounded in something earthy and austere. Imagine standing in a timber-built sauna after the coals have cooled, mixed with the scent of a smouldering cigar stub. It's woody without being fresh; instead, it feels ancient, weathered, and deeply masculine.

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.