Floral

Lily-of-the-valley smells like springtime captured in a bottle—delicate, almost ethereal, with a waxy, slightly honeyed sweetness. Imagine walking through a shaded woodland garden after rain, where tiny white bell-shaped flowers release a soft, green-tinged floral that's both innocent and mysteriously sensual. There's a creamy, almost soapy quality, reminiscent of lily pollen and fresh laundry dried in the sun, with whispers of pale fruit underneath. It's tender rather than heady, whispering rather than shouting.

Fresh

Vodka in fragrance is deceptively subtle—it doesn't smell like the burning alcohol you might expect. Instead, it evokes a clean, almost crystalline freshness: imagine the sharp, cool sensation of cracking open an ice-cold bottle on a winter morning, with a whisper of grain and mineral purity. There's a barely-there warmth underneath, like standing in a kitchen where grain spirit has just been distilled. It's simultaneously sharp and soothing, with an austere, almost architectural quality—more the idea of clarity and purity than a distinctive aromatic character.