Woody

Acajou wood smells like walking into a warm, polished furniture showroom—think aged mahogany mixed with a subtle sweetness reminiscent of caramel and dried fruit. It's woody without being harsh, possessing an almost resinous warmth that evokes honeyed amber and a whisper of vanilla. Imagine the interior of an antique wooden chest that's been storing precious things for decades: rich, dark, and deeply comforting. There's a slight spice lurking beneath—almost like cinnamon bark—that prevents it from becoming cloying.

Akigalawood smells like sun-warmed driftwood meets creamy sandalwood, with whispers of dry hay and aged paper. Imagine walking through a cedar-lined cabin on a hot afternoon—there's that resinous, almost dusty warmth, but softer and more ethereal than typical woody notes. It has a subtle sweetness underneath, like vanilla-tinged wood smoke that's been gently diffused through time. The overall effect is simultaneously woody and powdery, never harsh, with an understated elegance reminiscent of worn leather that's been left in the sun.

Amber smells like warmth itself has been bottled. Imagine sun-baked resin, honey left out on a hot day, and the comforting scent of your skin after lying on a warm blanket. There's sweetness here—almost vanilla-like—but deeper, earthier, with hints of powdered spices and the faint smokiness of incense. It's simultaneously creamy and slightly bitter, like caramelised sugar with a woody undertone. It wraps around you like cashmere, never sharp or jarring.

Amber Xtreme™ smells like warmth bottled into liquid gold. Imagine walking into a sun-baked cathedral where ancient wooden pews have absorbed centuries of incense—that deep, resinous sweetness. There's a creamy, almost honeyed undertone reminiscent of caramelised sugar, layered with the dry, slightly smoky warmth of aged sandalwood and a whisper of vanilla. It's comfort with an edge; sensual without being cloying. Think of precious amber jewellery warmed against skin, releasing whispered notes of incense and dried apricots.

Ambergris smells like a warm, salty embrace—imagine the mineral sweetness of sea air mixed with subtle animalic musk, aged leather, and hints of vanilla. It's deeply sensual without being floral, with a slightly earthy, tobacco-like undertone. Pure ambergris is oddly comforting: like standing near driftwood on a beach at dusk, or opening an old wooden chest that's held precious things for decades. It has an almost medicinal cleanness beneath its richness—not harsh, but grounding and mysteriously intimate.

Amberketal smells like warm, slightly sweet wood—imagine the interior of a cedar chest after years of storing precious things, then add a whisper of honey and amber resin. It's woody yet polished, never sharp or dusty. There's an almost powdery softness underneath, reminiscent of sandalwood's creamy texture, but with deeper, honeyed undertones that feel almost edible. It's the olfactory equivalent of running your hand across aged, varnished timber warmed by afternoon sunlight.

Ambermax™ smells like warm, resinous wood infused with the sweetness of amber. Imagine walking through a sun-baked cedar closet where someone's left a piece of aged amber jewellery—there's a honeyed, almost caramel-like warmth underneath the woody grain. It's softer than raw cedarwood, with creamy, slightly powdery undertones that evoke well-worn suede warmed by skin. Not sharp or fresh, but deeply comforting, like the smell of an antique wooden music box mixed with subtle vanilla and musk.

Amberwood is warm, resinous, and deeply sensual—imagine standing in a cedar-panelled library warmed by afternoon sunlight, where the wood itself has absorbed decades of amber incense smoke. There's a honeyed sweetness beneath the woody grain, like amber resin that's been gently heated. It's softer than raw sandalwood, more golden than vetiver, with a subtle burnt-sugar undertone reminiscent of tobacco leaf or aged leather. The overall effect is enveloping and almost edible—as if precious wood has been kissed by caramel and vanilla.

Ambreine smells like the warm, slightly salty heart of amber itself—that mysterious substance that washes ashore. Imagine walking past a driftwood bonfire on a beach at dusk: there's a creamy, almost buttery softness beneath hints of sea salt and resin. It's deeply woody yet strangely gourmand, with a gentle animalic undertone reminiscent of skin musk or aged leather. The overall effect is profoundly comforting and sensual, like wrapping yourself in a cashmere blanket by a fireplace.

Ambrette smells like warm, slightly sweet timber with a subtle musks-like softness—imagine the dry wood of a cedar chest mingled with the faintest whisper of animal warmth and skin. It's neither aggressively woody nor perfume-counter musky; instead, it's gently creamy and intimate, with a hint of spice lurking beneath. Think of inhaling the scent of aged sandalwood that's been sitting next to a bowl of vanilla beans. It's comforting, almost skin-like in its adhesiveness.

Ambrette seed smells like warm, honeyed musk with a distinctly woody-amber undertone—imagine the scent of toasted almond skin mixed with dry, sun-warmed driftwood and a whisper of something animalic and sensual. There's an almost creamy sweetness to it, reminiscent of warm honey drizzled over cedarwood, with subtle spiced notes that recall clove or cardamom lingering in the background. It's simultaneously edible and earthy, neither purely floral nor purely wood—occupying a fascinating middle ground that feels both comforting and mysteriously sophisticated.

Ambrettolide smells like warm, creamy amber with a distinctly musky softness—imagine the comforting embrace of a cashmere jumper left in sunlight, or the gentle powder lingering on skin after application. It's simultaneously woody and smooth, with a subtle animalic warmth that feels lived-in rather than sharp. There's a faint nuttiness underneath, like toasted almond skin, combined with the dry, slightly spicy character of cedarwood. It's profoundly intimate and skin-like, creating an aura rather than a declaration.