I go into that with all of my fragrances. I have to consider them perfect. It’s not like it has to be perfect in the sense that “everyone will love this.” It’s like, there is this personal thing that I’ve attached to it. I need to feel it smells perfectly like the idea I had for it.
“There’s something off though,” she notes and starts subtracting layers to get the best mix possible. She pulls out the vetiver and lets me have at it. It’s perfect; she is a magician. As I waft the new cocktail toward my nose, I close my eyes and am there, walking through that metaphorical post-rain forest.