Green

Broom smells like freshly mown grass mixed with something slightly peppery and herbaceous, with an almost almond-like sweetness lurking beneath. Imagine walking through a sun-warmed meadow after rain, where wild shrubs release their green juices into the air. It's crisp and airy, with a hint of hay and something distinctly vegetal—not quite floral, more like the green snap you'd get from crushing fresh stems between your fingers. There's a whisper of bitterness too, like biting into green tomato skin.

Floral

Orange blossom smells like wedding day innocence—delicate, honeyed, and sweetly intoxicating. Imagine stepping into a Mediterranean grove where bitter orange trees are in full bloom: there's a creamy, almost waxy floral sweetness reminiscent of jasmine, but airier and less heady. It carries subtle citrus whispers (the ghost of orange peel) beneath layers of creamy butter and almond milk. There's something both ethereal and sensual about it—less heavy than gardenia, more refined than rose, with a green, slightly bitter edge that keeps it from being cloying.