Citrus

Mandarin orange smells like biting into a sun-warmed orange on a summer afternoon—bright, juicy, and intensely sweet, but with a slightly floral, almost creamy undertone that distinguishes it from sharper citrus fruits like lemon. It's warmer and softer than bergamot, less bitter than grapefruit, with a whisper of honeyed smoothness. Imagine the concentrated essence of that sticky-fingered moment when you peel the fruit and release its aromatic oils—that's mandarin's character: immediately uplifting, naturally sweet, and wrapped in an almost candied warmth.

Floral

Orange blossom smells like wedding day innocence—delicate, honeyed, and sweetly intoxicating. Imagine stepping into a Mediterranean grove where bitter orange trees are in full bloom: there's a creamy, almost waxy floral sweetness reminiscent of jasmine, but airier and less heady. It carries subtle citrus whispers (the ghost of orange peel) beneath layers of creamy butter and almond milk. There's something both ethereal and sensual about it—less heavy than gardenia, more refined than rose, with a green, slightly bitter edge that keeps it from being cloying.