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

Virginia Cedar smells like walking into a freshly built wooden cabin on a crisp autumn morning. It's dry and warm, with pencil-shaving brightness—that distinctive scent you get when you sharpen a cedar pencil. Beneath lies a subtle spiciness and mild camphoraceous coolness, almost minty. There's a hint of resin and burnt wood smoke, tinged with earthiness. It's woody without being heavy, clean without being sharp—imagine aged timber that's been lightly sanded and left in dry air.