Citrus

Paraguayan petitgrain smells like freshly peeled bitter orange—imagine the sharp, green-tinged brightness you get when you've just snapped a Seville orange's waxy skin between your fingers. It's crisp and slightly herbaceous, with an almost leafy undertone, less sweet than regular orange oil and more austere. There's a delicate floral whisper beneath, reminiscent of fresh-cut green stems or spring garden leaves after rain. It's simultaneously zesty and refined, with a candied edge that feels almost vintage.

Floral

Tunisian neroli smells like sunshine captured in a bottle. Imagine biting into a fresh Seville orange—that bright, almost zesty citrus top note—but with a delicate floral heart underneath that's sweeter and more honeyed than you'd expect. There's a subtle creaminess, like orange blossom water, with whispers of indolic depth (that slightly animalic, skin-like warmth). It's simultaneously uplifting and sensual, neither purely citrus nor purely floral, but something uniquely in-between.