Woody

Sandalwood smells like warm, creamy silk wrapped around your skin on a cool evening. Imagine the subtle sweetness of vanilla mixed with a gentle spice—almost peppery—alongside a soft, almost powdery dryness. There's a faint milky quality, like almond paste or coconut cream, but not fruity. It's deeply comforting, never sharp or aggressive; rather, it unfolds slowly, like the smell of an old wooden jewellery box lined with fabric, releasing its aroma only when you lean in close. Grounding and intimate.

Gourmand

Sour milk is precisely what it suggests: the sharp, tangy pungency of yoghurt or slightly curdled cream, with an underlying sweetness that prevents it from becoming truly unpleasant. Imagine the piercing sourness of Greek yoghurt combined with warm, creamy butter—there's a lactonic richness beneath the acidic bite. It's unsettling at first sniff, deliberately challenging, yet oddly compelling. Think of the smell when you open a tub of sour cream on a warm day: that distinctive fermented tang mixed with dairy fat.