Citrus

Calamondin smells like a brighter, sharper cousin of mandarin—imagine biting into a small, intensely acidic citrus fruit on a humid tropical morning. There's a piercing green-orange zestiness, almost lime-like in its tartness, but with creamy, waxy undertones reminiscent of bitter orange peel. It's less sweet than orange and more austere than lemon; imagine the puckering brightness of seville orange crossed with the green, slightly herbaceous snap of unripe citrus. The aroma is simultaneously juicy and dry, with a faint floral whisper.

Floral

Tagetes smells like a peculiar marriage of bitter herbs and sweet flowers—imagine crushed marigold petals mixed with petrol and anise. There's a sharp, almost peppery greenness, with whispers of carnation and clove. It's not immediately "pretty," rather it's pungent and slightly medicinal, reminiscent of crushed tomato leaves on a summer's day. Some detect honeyed undertones, but it's fundamentally an acquired, sophisticated scent that feels more botanical than traditionally floral.