Woody

Imagine walking through damp earth after rain, then crushing dried autumn leaves in your hands. That's patchouli's essence: earthy, almost animalic, with a subtle sweetness lurking underneath. It smells vaguely like rich soil mixed with dried tobacco and a whisper of chocolate. There's a dark, slightly musty quality—think opening an antique wooden chest. It's grounding and intensely aromatic, never delicate. Fresh patchouli has peppery brightness; aged patchouli becomes deeper, warmer, almost leather-like.

Green

Pineapple leaf smells nothing like the sweet, juicy fruit itself. Instead, imagine crushed green leaves after rain—slightly spiky and herbaceous with an almost metallic, slightly tropical sharpness. There's a touch of fresh-cut grass mixed with something vaguely peppery and mineral, like licking a cool, slightly tart stone warmed by tropical sun. It's green rather than fruity, with an unexpected dryness that lingers on the palate of your imagination.