Floral

Tagetes smells like a peculiar marriage of bitter herbs and sweet flowers—imagine crushed marigold petals mixed with petrol and anise. There's a sharp, almost peppery greenness, with whispers of carnation and clove. It's not immediately "pretty," rather it's pungent and slightly medicinal, reminiscent of crushed tomato leaves on a summer's day. Some detect honeyed undertones, but it's fundamentally an acquired, sophisticated scent that feels more botanical than traditionally floral.

Woody

Woody notes smell like the heart of a forest distilled into essence. Imagine the warm, dry interior of a cedar wardrobe, the earthy grip of tree bark after rain, or the comforting scent of aged timber in an old library. They're neither sweet nor sharp—rather, they're grounding and substantial, with a slightly resinous, almost creaky quality. Think of pencil shavings, sandalwood's buttery softness, or the austere dryness of vetiver. These notes smell like nature's architecture: solid, enduring, and deeply familiar.