Citrus

Pomegranate smells like bright, slightly tart berries with a whisper of leather and dry spice. Imagine biting into the jewelled seeds—there's that sharp, almost mouth-puckering citrus sweetness, but deeper and more sophisticated than lemon or orange. It carries an unexpected earthy, almost woody undertone, like the pomegranate's skin itself. There's a subtle astringency that catches the back of your nose, reminiscent of red wine or fresh pomegranate juice left to oxidise. It's fruity without being cloying, with a complexity that feels both ancient and modern.

Floral

Wisteria smells like a spring garden caught between sweetness and restraint. Imagine walking beneath cascading violet-blue flowers on a warm afternoon—you'll encounter a delicate floral sweetness with powdery, slightly soapy undertones and a whisper of green, almost aldehydic freshness. It's softer than jasmine, less heady than gardenia, with an ephemeral quality that feels both innocent and subtly melancholic, like the scent dissolving before you've fully grasped it.