Wanderlust

Board meeting in Singapore. Silence as I presented. After, the Japanese VP followed me to the elevator just to ask about my 'aura.' His assistant said I smelled like 'a CEO who vacations in secret castles.'

Sprayed Wanderlust before reuniting with my estranged sister. The peach note softened her frown by dessert. She thought I'd brought our childhood orchard into the room. We talked until sunrise, the sandalwood drydown mirroring how defenses crumbled. Now she keeps stealing my bottle.

Ran a marathon of investor pitches in Dubai. Wanderlust's sillage became my secret weapon: projected calm during Q&A storms. One venture capitalist admitted he'd followed my scent trail from the elevator, comparing it to 'Churchill's cigar meeting Cleopatra's barge.' Closed the deal before the base notes faded.

Post-divorce, I needed armor. Wanderlust's opening sting of bergamot felt like shedding old skin. By nightfall, the oakmoss wrapped me in a certainty I'd forgotten that I'm someone who deserves whispered compliments at jazz bars. My ex sniffed my collar at the custody hearing. He looked...homesick.

Gallery opening in Paris. A critic known for venomous reviews trailed me, nostrils flaring, until he blurted, 'Is that Wanderlust? It smells like the missing Ingres painting.' Sold two installations to his rivals that night. Turns out, art snobs appreciate a fragrance that evolves more than their opinions.

Delhi to San Francisco, 18-hour flight. Sprayed Wanderlust during turbulence. The freesia cut through recycled air like a machete through jungle fog. Flight attendants offered upgrades twice. When I deplaned, a stranger handed me his card, 'Whoever made your scent deserves a Nobel.'

First date since the burnout. Wanderlust's plum note felt like confessing 'I'm fragile' while the musk growled 'Try me.' He leaned in three times just to inhale. Said I smelled like his grandmother's château, but sexy. We're marrying there next spring.

Replaced my Montblanc pen with Wanderlust. Now when I slide contracts across the table, clients pause to breathe deeper. The drydown's amberwood makes even hostile takeovers feel like collaborations. Our stock rose 8% since I started wearing it. Coincidence? My CFO thinks not.

Wore Wanderlust to my mother's gala. She despises 'niche nonsense' yet spent the evening sniffing my wrist, muttering, 'This...almost justifies dropping out of law school. High praise from a woman who thinks Chanel No. 5 is avant-garde.

Mediated a mining dispute in the Congo. Applied Wanderlust before negotiations. The opposing warlord's translator kept sighing, 'You smell like peace treaties should. We reached accord in record time. Later found out he'd ordered six bottles for his wives.

Writer's block vanished when Wanderlust arrived. The peach-leather accord smells like a protagonist's hidden journal. My editor says the new manuscript 'reeks of Pulitzer potential. Coincidence? My protagonist now wears this scent while dismantling regimes.

Father insists 'real men' wear vetiver. Wore Wanderlust to his birthday gala. By midnight, his mistress asked for my perfumer's contact. The oakmoss made her weep about lost youth. Mother gifted me shares the next morning. Sometimes rebellion smells like inherited power, reinvented.