Hemophilia is a sensory exploration of trauma, identity, and the commodification of the self. The work examines the artist as both creator and product, caught between authentic expression and the pressure to become desirable, consumable, and recognizable.

At first encounter, the perfume envelops the wearer in an intoxicating sweetness: warm, sugary and seductive. Inspired by performative allure associated with prostitutes, the scent is designed to attract attention and invite desire. It functions as a mask or a carefully constructed surface meant to please, seduce, and survive.

As the perfume settles onto the skin, metallic notes of iron oxide and traces of the artist’s own blood begin to emerge. What initially performed intimacy now reveals injury. The transformation mirrors the psychological aftermath of trauma: the ways people construct personas, fantasies, and defenses around wounds that never fully disappear.

The title, Hemophilia, refers to the inability to clot, a body incapable of sealing its own injuries. Here, bleeding becomes a metaphor for the artist who cannot fully separate themselves from their work; someone whose identity continually spills outward, becoming consumed by others. The perfume asks where the boundary exists between self-expression and self-exploitation, and whether turning oneself into an object of desire inevitably requires a kind of self-inflicted wound.