Somewhere in your childhood, there's a tiny jewelry box that opens up to an even tinier little ballerina spinning to a wind-up waltz that floods your cheeks with that delicate, flush nostalgia. Now imagine that little ballerina is wearing a black getup with some kick-butt blue lipstick and the music is uptempo, major-key, club ready. Here we have hyacinth. The floral that's more green than pink, the scent with more pepper than sugar. Sure, it's still music-box tender, but when you take the risk of opening the petaled lid, wowzers. You're in for a reboot of the best kind.