Floral

Heliotrope smells like vanilla-scented powder warmed by sunlight—imagine crushing sweet almond biscuits mixed with cherry liqueur, then dusting the result with talcum. It's gourmand but delicate, with a subtle almond-marzipan sweetness undercut by something floral yet creamy. There's a powdery, almost baby-soft quality that feels nostalgic, like opening an old beauty compact. It's neither purely floral nor purely edible; it exists in a dreamy middle ground, slightly intoxicating and comforting.

Floral

White lily smells like walking into a grand church on a summer morning—that heady, almost intoxicating sweetness that fills the air with an almost ethereal presence. Imagine honeyed florals mixed with a whisper of powder and a touch of green stem-like freshness. It's intensely perfumed, creamy, and slightly indolic (with faint animalic notes reminiscent of skin musk). The scent is bold rather than delicate, filling your nostrils with a buttery, almost narcotic floral richness that lingers. It's both innocent and sensual simultaneously—like stepping into an expensive silk gown.