Floral

Peach blossom smells nothing like the fruit itself—it's far more delicate and ethereal. Imagine stepping into an orchard on a spring morning: soft, powdery, with a whisper of almond and honey. There's a gentle sweetness reminiscent of baby powder or white musk, combined with a faint green freshness, almost like crushed green leaves. It's romantic without being cloying, feminine without being heavy—closer to the scent of a bride's bouquet than anything you'd eat.

Green

Sage smells like stepping into a Mediterranean herb garden on a warm afternoon. It's dry, slightly peppery, and vaguely medicinal—reminiscent of the leaves you'd brush past while walking through wild scrubland. There's an earthy, almost dusty quality, with subtle woody undertones and a whisper of camphor that catches the back of your nose. It's green without being fresh or citrusy; instead, it feels weathered and wise, like the plant itself has absorbed years of sunlight and been slightly baked by heat.