Niche on a starter budget

Hacivat opens with a sharp burst of pineapple and grapefruit that feels more herbal than sweet, braced by bergamot and tempered by an immediate undercurrent of oakmoss.

The opening is immediate and bracingly tart—blood orange squeezed over skin, pulpy and slightly bitter, with none of the sweetness commercial citrus usually promises.

The fig tree in its entirety—leaves, bark, milky sap, and fruit—captured with almost documentary precision.

The opening is a bright collision of cassis and bergamot that lasts barely a minute before the cedar rushes in—dry, almost papery, with a synthetic clarity that some find refreshing and others find clinical.

L'Air du Desert Marocain opens with a jolt of cumin that stops just short of body-note territory — it reads as warm skin in dry heat rather than sweat, a distinction that matters enormously.

The tea element announces itself immediately—not the literal green sharpness of matcha, but the roasted, slightly mineral warmth of an oolong infusion.

Tam Dao opens with a whisper of rose that quickly dissolves into warm, creamy sandalwood—not the sweet, incense-laden kind, but something drier and almost chalky, like sun-bleached temple wood.

**Tilda Swinton Like This** arrives as a study in contrasts—at once austere and indulgent, like finding a jar of pumpkin preserve in a Scandinavian monastery.

Wonderwood opens with a crackle of dry spices—nutmeg and cinnamon—over cedar shavings, as if someone struck a match in a lumber yard.

Timbuktu opens with the warmth of cardamom and a faint pink pepper shimmer, immediately smoky and dry rather than spiced in the conventional sense.