Citrus

Pomegranate smells like bright, slightly tart berries with a whisper of leather and dry spice. Imagine biting into the jewelled seeds—there's that sharp, almost mouth-puckering citrus sweetness, but deeper and more sophisticated than lemon or orange. It carries an unexpected earthy, almost woody undertone, like the pomegranate's skin itself. There's a subtle astringency that catches the back of your nose, reminiscent of red wine or fresh pomegranate juice left to oxidise. It's fruity without being cloying, with a complexity that feels both ancient and modern.

Floral

Turkish Rose smells like walking through a sun-warmed garden after rain—intensely floral, with a slightly spiced, almost peppery undertone that sets it apart from delicate rose notes. Imagine crushed rose petals mixed with honey and a whisper of cloves; it's rich and full-bodied, neither cloying nor thin. There's an almost wine-like warmth to it, slightly animalic and earthy, as if you've buried your face in a bouquet of the most mature, voluptuous blooms imaginable. It feels luxurious and old-world, rather than the fresh, dewy quality of lighter florals.