I
picked it up, thinking "will dabbing this onto my wrists [yes, I'm aware this is mens' cologne, alright?] grant me an escape? Can being whisked
off really be that easy?"

I immediately wondered whether or not
I would even have considered such things had the perfume simply been
called..."pleasantly scented liquid." Or, as a departure from what Alice in Wonderland would encounter..."do not drink me."

Looking left, looking right and looking lastly at the container in my hand I thought "nah."

But
there you have it, the selling of an idea, the evolution of a noun
(bottle, vial,) into another, vastly different, one (escape) or even into a verb (escape). The addition of that two syllable word "escape" suddenly
elevates the little jar into a mirage of freedom, the actualization of a thought process, the "as soon as I put
this on, I will go on, or will embody, adventures."

And that--is the power a title can have.

It's usually meant to lure you in.

With but few words, a work's titles may incite curiosity or boredom, conjure up fanciful images or hackneyed ideas.

It
can help, may suggest, you ascribe a series of seemingly unrelated and
often intangible traits onto the tangible and mundane.

In short, a piece's title is so charged it can change the manner in which you have perceived that piece itself. And nowhere is this more evident in works of art--of the literary, musical, visual strain.