Floral

Iris smells like powdered iris root—dusty, refined, slightly sweet. Imagine the scent of talcum powder mixed with subtle earth, a whisper of violet, and delicate woodiness. It's creamy and soft, reminiscent of expensive face powder from your grandmother's vanity, yet grounded with mineral-like dryness. Not floral in the obvious sense; rather, it's an elegant, almost grey-toned fragrance that feels sophisticated and rather androgynous, with a faint hint of buttered almonds underneath.

Floral

Tulip is deceptively subtle—nothing like the visual drama of the flower itself. Imagine walking through a spring garden and catching a whisper of something green, slightly peppery, and almost powdery-soft. It's more of a gentle herbaceous breath than a bold floral shout. There's a delicate, slightly waxy quality reminiscent of fresh-cut stems and pale petals, with a hint of something almost minty-fresh underneath. It's the fragrance equivalent of touching velvet in dim light—present, but requiring your attention to truly notice it.