Citrus

Rhubarb smells tart and slightly green, like biting into the stalk of a freshly picked plant. Imagine the sharp, almost sour zing of ripe granny smith apple meets the leafy, vegetal quality of freshly cut grass or rhubarb leaves themselves. There's a candied sweetness underneath—reminiscent of stewed rhubarb with sugar—but the dominant character is brisk, slightly tangy, and surprisingly juicy. It's herbaceous without being medicinal, and carries a whisper of that pleasant astringency you'd feel on your tongue.

Floral

Violet smells like powdered sweetness with an almost creamy, slightly spicy undertone—imagine the delicate petals of a garden violet crushed between your fingers, mixed with a hint of almond and dry hay. It's softer than a rose, with a whisper of green leafiness beneath. There's something almost edible about it, reminiscent of violet sweets or the faint perfume of talcum powder. The scent is gentle and nostalgic, neither purely floral nor purely sweet, creating an impression that's both aristocratic and intimate.