My twin sister lives her mornings like a competitive sport. The starting line changes daily—entirely dependent on her shoot schedule—but the intensity never does. She wakes up at whatever hour the job requires and immediately goes into motion, determined to squeeze in her time before work: tea with honey, vanilla yogurt, an intense workout, and a little dillydallying that somehow feels essential. Then suddenly, chaos. She disappears into the shower with exactly 7 minutes and 30 seconds before she has to run out the door to a photo shoot. When she leaves, her hair is still dripping, shoes half-tied, and the door slams shut behind her with authority. What lingers is the evidence of a well-oiled routine: she smells impossibly fresh and clean, like warm skin just out of steam and someone nearby tearing open a ripe, juicy orange. That bright, unmistakable hit of neroli hangs in the air. It’s. It doesn’t announce itself; it travels. Confident, crisp, ready to go. Which feels fitting, because is back (nee Beauty Counter). The resurrection of feels less like a relaunch and more like a reclaiming: products that stand for transparency, safety without compromise, natural beauty without the fine print. Using it feels intentional. Naturally, I slather myself in it now (along with the , and pretty much everyone I know swears by the , a longtime-in-the-making lash lengthener). The messaging alone emboldens me—care for yourself, ask better questions, demand more from what you put on your body. I like that it leaves a trace. I like that people ask me what I am wearing. And I like that it smells like clarity, conviction, and a woman who is on a mission—even when she’s a smidge late, running out the door with wet hair.