Citrus

Green apple smells like biting into a crisp Granny Smith—tart, juicy, and almost mouth-puckeringly fresh. It's not the sweet, candied apple of desserts, but something brighter and greener: imagine the smell of the skin and flesh together, with a slight herbaceous edge underneath. There's a clean, almost squeaky quality, like polished fruit or fresh-cut stems. It feels sharp and energising rather than cosy.

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.