Floral

Orris concrete smells like powdered violets dusted with buttery cream and a whisper of dusty iris root—imagine walking through a Victorian parlour where old silk cushions have absorbed decades of floral perfume. There's an earthy, almost potato-like undertone that grounds the sweetness, with subtle hints of wood shavings and wet cardboard. It's deeply nostalgic and slightly peppery, like inhaling the scent of expensive face powder mixed with old books and dried flowers pressed between pages.

Woody

Oud is profoundly complex—imagine walking into a centuries-old wooden temple where incense has smouldered for generations. There's dark, animalic warmth reminiscent of leather and tobacco, threaded through with something almost medicinal and slightly funky, like aged wood that's been touched by earth and time. Some describe it as smoky-sweet, with whispers of honey and spice lurking beneath. It's neither floral nor fresh; it's introspective and dense, filling your senses with contemplative richness.