Musk

Musk is the note most people have smelled thousands of times and never once named. It is soft, warm, faintly powdery and oddly close to the smell of clean skin — not sweet exactly, not floral, just comfortable. On its own it is almost boring. In a blend it is the thing that holds everything else together.

Every musk in modern perfumery is made in a laboratory. The original came from a deer and has not been used by any reputable house for decades. What replaced it is a family of synthetics that are kinder, more stable and considerably better behaved.

It sits at the base, which in a waterless diffuser means it is the last thing standing. The citrus goes first, the florals follow, and hours later the room still smells faintly of musk. If a scent seems to linger after you have stopped noticing the rest of it, this is usually why.