Oriental

Labdanum smells like walking into an ancient library where leather-bound books meet honeyed amber. It's warm, slightly resinous, and vaguely medicinal—imagine dried apricots dusted with incense, with a subtle leather undertone and a hint of barnyard earthiness. There's a sticky, almost tar-like quality that feels both precious and primal. It's the scent of luxurious comfort with an unexpected roughness, rather like wrapping yourself in a worn cashmere blanket that smells faintly of honey and smoke.

Woody

Vetiver smells like freshly turned earth after rainfall, mixed with dry hay and a whisper of smoke. Imagine walking through a sun-baked field where roots and soil still hold morning dew—that's the grounding, slightly dusty quality you'll encounter. There's an almost savoury, mineral-like character, with hints of cedarwood and green tea. It's simultaneously earthy and arid, never sweet, with a faint green-wood quality that feels both calming and deeply natural. Think of it as the scent of resilience and stability in olfactory form.