Perfume ads are so strange. You can’t sell the actual smell – so they sell you a feeling.

This one smells like ‘freedom’, this one like ‘sexy’, here’s ‘victorious’, and here’s ‘lucky’!

I didn’t know freedom had a smell but I think if it did, it would be illegal to bottle it. What does freedom smell like? Perfume commercials suggest it smells like a bunch of dehydrated models running along a beach. Power smells like riding a horse across the city.

Perfume ads don’t sell smells. No, they sell fantasies. They sell you a life you’ll never have.

‘Don’t like your life? Easy fix! Spray on some overpriced Lancome and suddenly you’re more desirable, more outspoken, more chill, more chic, more… Zendaya’

Pshhh, pshhh — and just like that: sexy strangers are flirting with you, camera flashes follow you around, luxury clothes, exclusive clubs, you look like Keira Knightly or Robert Pattison.

‘Wear this, and you’ll be a whole new person!’ Um… Last time I checked, putting on a scent didn’t give me a new personality. It just makes me smell different in traffic.

‘Spray this — become more mysterious, more irresistible!’. How about a perfume that makes me more likely to turn paper on time? I don’t need to be more mysterious — I need to be more organized.

Is there a fragrance for that? How about something that makes me better at on-boarding new clients? Maybe one that makes me stop ordering UberEats three times a week?

But no! Instead of practical perfumes, we’ve got colognes that promise to turn us into French art thieves. I want scent that says, ‘I’m responsible with my time and know how to do my taxes without crying.’ Until that exists, I guess I’ll stick with ‘spilled coffee’ and whatever’s marked down at Marshalls.