Citrus

Italian mandarin orange smells like biting into a sun-warmed fruit on a Mediterranean hillside. It's sweeter and softer than sharp lemon, with honeyed warmth rather than bright acidity. Imagine the juicy, tender flesh releasing its oils—less bitter pith, more creamy-sweet pulp. There's an almost powdery, slightly fuzzy quality, like the bloom on the fruit's skin. It's optimistic and intimate at once: nostalgic of childhood oranges, yet sophisticated enough for an evening fragrance.

Woody

Musk is the scent of warmth itself—imagine the gentle heat radiating from skin after exercise, mingled with soft suede and a whisper of vanilla. It's deeply intimate rather than floral or sharp; think of wrapping yourself in a cashmere blanket warmed by the sun, with a faint animalic undertone that's almost imperceptible. Pure musk has a powdery, almost imperceptible sweetness, like the inside of a lover's wrist or the comfort of well-loved fabric. It doesn't announce itself boldly; instead, it envelops and lingers on your skin like a second layer.