Le Labo, Munich. I was refilling my JASMIN 17 perfume bottle while you were getting more coffee BODY SCRUB. You used it for the first time recently after spilling a cappucino on yourself and deciding to go all in rather than clean it up. Now, your morning ritual involves scrubbing yourself with coffee and if that doesn’t do the trick, drinking three double espressos. I got a contact high just from standing next to you. At least, I think that’s why I was buzzing.

Film Forum, NYC. You were one row in front of me at the L’AVVENTURA showing. Midway through the film, an usher came and asked why you’d lit a candle. You said it was a CALONE 17, and you were providing the movie’s fragrance to enhance the experience. Perhaps we could have a movie night together sometime? I’d love to know what JURASSIC PARK smells like.

Le Labo, San Francisco. I bumped into you twice in the same morning. First, on the street when our bikeshare scooters collided, and then inside Le Labo as we were both buying ROSE 31 and I stood on your toe. Clearly we are meant for each other—we love ROSE and are both uncoordinated.

I Miss You. I remember you in sultry Rome, spritzing FLEUR D’ORANGER 27 on a bus in the unflinching belief it would cancel out the smell of exhaust fumes. I remember you in rainy Hampstead insisting we go for a walk because “it smells Like BAIE 19 outside.” I remember you in ice-cold Colorado, the two of us eating s’mores around the campfire of your ENCENS 9 candle... What I’m trying to say is that I miss you in all climates, and all flavors of Le Labo. Why did I let you board that flight?