Green

Sage smells like stepping into a Mediterranean herb garden on a warm afternoon. It's dry, slightly peppery, and vaguely medicinal—reminiscent of the leaves you'd brush past while walking through wild scrubland. There's an earthy, almost dusty quality, with subtle woody undertones and a whisper of camphor that catches the back of your nose. It's green without being fresh or citrusy; instead, it feels weathered and wise, like the plant itself has absorbed years of sunlight and been slightly baked by heat.

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.