Citrus

Green mandarin orange smells like you've just peeled a perfectly ripe mandarin, but caught mid-moment—before the juice's sweetness fully develops. There's a bright, almost sharp citrus burst with a distinctly herbaceous undertone, reminiscent of fresh green leaves and stems. Imagine the zesty spray that hits your nose when you puncture the skin, mixed with a subtle vegetal whisper. It's less jammy than a ripe mandarin, more crisp and almost slightly bitter—like biting into the white pith beneath the skin. It's refreshing without being cloying, with a clean, slightly tangy character that feels alive.

Woody

Indonesian patchouli smells like damp earth after rain mixed with old leather and burnt wood. Imagine walking through a tropical forest floor where decomposing leaves release a rich, almost earthy sweetness—not unpleasant, but deeply grounded. There's a subtle spice beneath it, reminiscent of cloves or cinnamon, with hints of dark chocolate and tobacco leaf. It's heavy, sensual, and slightly animalic; the smell of something authentic and weathered rather than refined.