Oriental

Benzoin smells like sweetened vanilla cream kissed with caramel and a whisper of incense smoke. Imagine walking into a bakery where warm pastries have just emerged from the oven, then stepping into a Buddhist temple where resin smoulders on hot coals. It's honeyed and slightly powdery, with an almost medicinal undertone—like comforting cough sweets wrapped in silk. There's a subtle almond note too, creamy rather than sharp. It's deeply gourmand yet spiritual, simultaneously cosy and exotic.

Citrus

Bergamot smells like someone's just peeled a ripe orange in bright morning sunlight—that initial burst of citrus sweetness combined with something distinctly floral and almost tea-like. It's lighter and more delicate than lemon or grapefruit, with a subtle bittersweet edge and a powdery, slightly herbaceous undertone that lingers. Imagine Earl Grey tea without the tannins, mixed with candied orange peel and a whisper of honeyed florals. It's simultaneously fresh and warm, crisp yet creamy.