Between a deviated septum, chronic sinusitis and rhinitis, three broken noses, an average of five colds a year, and whacked-out environmental allergies, the odds of me actually picking up on any given scent are extremely low.
This has created a certain level of panic in me: “What if I smell? Would anyone tell me?”.
(This element of mystery has dramatically encouraged my rampant OCD, as well as my need to smell lemon-fresh at all times of day. I shower often, love a good perfume (though having a mother who was allergic to such things cured me of any tendency to overuse ‘eau de anything’), and try not to wear clothes over and over again (thus limiting their possibility to render me stinky). But I digress.)
(I also used to wonder if I was crazy and didn’t know it, too. But it turns out that I am. And I DO know it.)
Despite my goobered schnozz, I connect strongly with how people smell, and have a tremendous scent memory.
Blindfold me, and I could still pick out the exact deodorant that my former crush used to wear. I could pick out the one fragrance that my mother can dab on and not sneeze her way into oblivion. I know the exact top and bottom notes to look for in a cologne for my dad, because from brand to brand, he chooses the same ones.
I blogged on my old blog about a moment of tearful remembrance for my Nonna, after a bottle of her perfume broke on my bathroom floor. I still have a bottle of it, and it still has the power to make me cry.
Now I also have a bottle of my grandfather’s Old Spice… the one thing I asked for of his when he passed away a couple weeks ago.
I can tell you how I knew exactly when springtime had arrived at our old house, because the backyard smelled like magnolias and mud. I can tell you how I knew summer was ending, too, because the plums from our tree would rot into the grass, and leave the air sickly-sweet with the scent of a season about to pass.
I can close my eyes and immediately recall the soft fragrance of snow falling in Whitehorse, the tummy-growling smell of burgers on the grill at camp (not to mention the grill smoke filling my lungs), and the chemically fruity odor of the green apple Jolly Ranchers that my friend at university loved to crunch in Oceanography 301.
When I am truly, truly happy, I have a tendency to close my eyes and breathe deep — I’m not sure why. When I can’t breathe deeply (98% of any given year), I’m undeniably frustrated. I remember things by smells, and I hate to have that function taken from me.
There are a gazillion bad smells out there that I choose not to remember, but the good ones are ones I hate to forget.
So, for you, my top 30 favourite smells. In no particular order. Yes, some are sentimental. Others are just weird.
30. Ground cinnamon tossed onto a lit electric stove element. Did you know that it sparkles? You should try it.
29. The oils that spray into the air when you twist an orange peel. Or a lemon peel. Or a grapefruit peel.
28. The aforementioned deodorant (Mennen Speed Stick Original.)
27. Mint leaves, fresh from the garden.
26. A cup of Earl Gray tea.
25. Baby lotion/baby powder/babies recently exposed to either. Mmmm!
24. Double Bubble Bubble Gum… sweet, but with a mild hint of pepper. Unique.
23. A just-struck match.
22. Jiffy Markers. No, I don’t stick them up my nose like some of my friends used to… I just like their scent lingering in the air after you’ve made a big poster, or written a nice “Keep Out of My Room, Asshole” sign. Which I haven’t had to do since I was 18.
21. Onions and garlic, frying in olive oil in a cast iron pan.
20. Fresh-popped popcorn.
19. Peonies, hot and overbloomed on a sunny day.
18. Pipe tobacco (depends on the kind… but Bob Armstrong had good stuff when I was 5.)
17. Spring soil, just turned for planting.
16. Homemade fudge, cooling on the counter.
15. A fresh-chopped bowl of cucumber salad, with vinegar and sugar.
14. Annick Goutal Eau d’Hadrien; Thierry Mugler Angel; Issey Miyake Eau d’Issey; Burberry Brit, Fresh Lemon Sugar, Acqui Di Parma; everything by Jo Malone; Nars Body Oil, Nuxe Body Oil, Bobbi Brown Beach, and Demeter Gingerale…. for a short list of beloved perfumes. I’m a junkie. Can you tell?
13. Ivory Soap and Dove Soap… so clean, so pure.
12. Sunlight and Tide Laundry Detergents.
11. Vanilla bean, freshly split.
10. My mom’s Violet Water. Which she hasn’t worn in years, but I know that smell anywhere.
9. My dad’s various colognes (yes, my mom lets him wear it, even when she sneezes.)
8. Christmas trees.
7. Hay drying in the sunshine (even if it makes me sneeze)
6. The ocean, always. In all forms.
5. Vicks Vapo-Rub. Really. It’s the smell of not dying in my sleep!
4. Hawaiian Tropic Dark Tanning Oil.
3. Snowy days, up north. The colder it is, the nicer it smells.
2. The future smell of my future man.
1. Coffee, dammit. Did you doubt it for a second?
