Woody

Texas cedar smells like walking into a sun-warmed cedar chest on a dusty afternoon. It's drier and slightly spicier than typical cedarwood—imagine pencil shavings mixed with sage, with a faint sweetness underneath, almost like sandalwood's rougher cousin. There's a woody warmth that feels lived-in rather than pristine, with subtle hints of resin and leather. It's grounding without being heavy, reminiscent of old barns, aged wood furniture, and the lingering scent of cedar lining in a cabin.

Gourmand

Venezuelan tonka bean smells like a warm embrace of vanilla, but richer and more complex than simple sweetness. Imagine crème brûlée's caramelised sugar crust, honeyed almond paste, and a whisper of fresh-cut hay all at once. There's an almost smoky warmth underneath—like the inside of a well-aged wooden cabinet filled with dried spices. It's gourmand without being cloying: edible, comforting, yet mysteriously sophisticated, with subtle hints of dried fruit and warm leather that prevent it from being purely sugary.