Floral

Heliotrope smells like vanilla-scented powder warmed by sunlight—imagine crushing sweet almond biscuits mixed with cherry liqueur, then dusting the result with talcum. It's gourmand but delicate, with a subtle almond-marzipan sweetness undercut by something floral yet creamy. There's a powdery, almost baby-soft quality that feels nostalgic, like opening an old beauty compact. It's neither purely floral nor purely edible; it exists in a dreamy middle ground, slightly intoxicating and comforting.

Gourmand

Vanilla smells like warmth wrapped in sweetness—imagine the comforting aroma of freshly baked vanilla sponge cake, or a warm bowl of vanilla custard on a winter's evening. It's creamy and soft, almost edible, with subtle woody undertones and a hint of spice that recalls cloves or nutmeg. Pure vanilla is surprisingly complex: it's not aggressively sweet, but rather enveloping, like condensed caramel with a touch of earthy depth. It smells like indulgence and safety simultaneously.