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.

Woody

Vetiver smells like freshly turned earth after rainfall, mixed with dry hay and a whisper of smoke. Imagine walking through a sun-baked field where roots and soil still hold morning dew—that's the grounding, slightly dusty quality you'll encounter. There's an almost savoury, mineral-like character, with hints of cedarwood and green tea. It's simultaneously earthy and arid, never sweet, with a faint green-wood quality that feels both calming and deeply natural. Think of it as the scent of resilience and stability in olfactory form.