Smoky & Earthy

Grunge smells like the charred aftermath of a bonfire, mixed with burnt rubber and smoky tar. Imagine walking through a dimly lit jazz club where cigarette smoke clings to velvet furniture, then stepping outside into cold air after rain. There's an acrid, slightly metallic edge—like striking a match or the blackened crust on toast left too long in the toaster. It's rough, unpolished, and deliberately unglamorous, with faint undertones of leather and ash that feel gritty rather than refined.

Floral

Orange blossom smells like wedding day innocence—delicate, honeyed, and sweetly intoxicating. Imagine stepping into a Mediterranean grove where bitter orange trees are in full bloom: there's a creamy, almost waxy floral sweetness reminiscent of jasmine, but airier and less heady. It carries subtle citrus whispers (the ghost of orange peel) beneath layers of creamy butter and almond milk. There's something both ethereal and sensual about it—less heavy than gardenia, more refined than rose, with a green, slightly bitter edge that keeps it from being cloying.