My college roommate and I had a method for making it through breakups: Put a rubber band around your wrist and snap it every time you think of the person. Pavlovian—and reasonably effective, I’m here to report. I like to augment the process by playing the album Especially for You by the Smithereens—over and over. But a new, strangely-also-wrist-related technique has emerged, one that is excellent when used in conjunction with the original. In the Kiehl’s offices, they call the Original Musk perfume the Breakup Fragrance. Not because it causes breakups, but because, post-breakup, you dab a little on your wrists and step, chastened, back out into the world, and find yourself much more popular than you remember. Eligible operatives appear out of the woodwork en masse, demanding, sexily, to know what you’re wearing.