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.

Floral

Pear blossom smells like spring condensed into a single breath—delicate and ethereal, with a subtle sweetness that's never cloying. Imagine the precise moment you walk through an orchard when the trees are flowering: there's a whisper of green freshness reminiscent of crushed leaves, a hint of honeyed nectar, and an almost creamy, waxy quality that recalls the soft petals themselves. It's floral without being heavy, more airy than a rose, with a faint fruity undertone that suggests the promise of the fruit to come—never the fruit itself, but its shy, fragrant prelude.