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I have a rule: If three strangers compliment my outfit, it becomes my lucky outfit. Last week, I had to make a new rule for my perfume. It started in my Uber on the way to dinner. The driver, a very stoic older guy who hadn't said a word, suddenly said, "Excuse me, miss. What perfume is that? I need to buy it for my wife." I told him it was The Essence Vault No. 444. Ten minutes later, I walked into the restaurant. The host taking my coat literally leaned in and said, "Oh my god, you smell incredible. Is that Lost Cherry?" "No, " I said, feeling incredibly smug. "It's a dupe. It cost me £24.99." By the time I got to the bar, the bartender asked me the same thing. Three strangers in under an hour. Here is the truth about expensive perfume: You are paying for the glass bottle, the celebrity in the commercial, and the logo. I used to save up to buy the £386 designer cherry scent. I’d treat it like liquid gold, only spraying it on "special occasions" because I was terrified of running out. Then I found No. 444. It has the exact same notes: sour cherry, bitter almond, sandalwood, and tonka bean. It has that rich, gourmand, slightly boozy vibe that makes people stop you in the street. But because it’s £24.99, I don't ration it. I spray it before I go to the gym. I spray it before bed. I spray it on my throw pillows.