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.

Smoky & Earthy

"Rot" smells like the warm, earthy decomposition you'd encounter in a forest floor after rainfall—think damp wood, mushrooms, and that peculiar mustiness of old leaves breaking down. It's not unpleasant; rather, it evokes the rich, slightly sweet funk of aged soil and organic matter in slow transformation. Imagine pressing your nose into a rotting log covered in moss, or the smell inside an ancient wooden barn where hay has fermented for years. There's a leathery, almost animalic quality beneath the earthiness—faintly smoky, deeply grounded, with hints of tobacco leaf and dried peat.