Bloom

I wore Bloom to a Milan fashion gala. By midnight, three strangers had asked to photograph my neck. The bergamot cuts through crowded rooms like a diamond, but the drydown (oh, that sandalwood) lingers on my coat for days. My husband now buys it by the case.

As a perfumer, I've sniffed every floral since Guerlain's Mitsouko. Bloom's jasmine is different: a biotech marvel that pulses like living petals. Clients think I've hidden roses in my office. I let them wonder.

Sprayed it before my 6 AM flight to Delhi. When I landed, the cabin crew asked if I'd bathed in "some French spring water." The vanilla isn't sweet. It's sophistication distilled. My ex called it "cruelty." I call it victory.

During my TED talk, the mic picked up a whisper: "What is that scent?" For eight hours, the rose shifted: dewy, then smoky, then something my therapist called "audaciously hopeful." Sold 37 copies of my book that night.

I'm a florist. Real roses wilt, but Bloom's? They hunt. Wore it to confront my landlord. He reduced my rent, then asked for the name. I handed him a bill instead.

My congregation thinks it's divine intervention. The sillage during Sunday service? Like angels debating philosophy. Seventy-four parishioners bought bottles. The bishop requested a private demo.

Spritz Bloom at 5:30 AM. By 6, the sandalwood has me strategizing mergers. By noon, clients lean closer, blaming "hypnotic spring vibes." I blame Assence's ruthless brilliance.

Chronic hives from Chanel. Migraines from Dior. Bloom's vegan jasmine? Pure serenity. My rescue dog sleeps curled around my scented wrist now. Coincidence? Unlikely.

Rainy Tokyo subway. A salaryman dropped his umbrella to ask, "Is that Shiseido's new release?" Laughed, handed him Assence's card. Saw him wearing it at the izakaya last week. Sweet revenge smells like strawberries and spine.

Applied Bloom before court. The judge granted me the house, the dog, and his vintage Porsche. Coincidence? The opposing counsel still texts me for the name. Denied.

Found the bottle from 2023. Sprayed it. Still perfect. Like roses preserved in liquid confidence. He's bald now. I'm radiant. Justice wears vanilla.

Danced tango till 3 AM. Partner swore the jasmine synced with our steps. Strangers tipped me €500, mistaking me for "some European royalty." Let them.