Smell of fear
That semi-solid paste that little kids used in school. The stuff that doesn’t make anything stick together and dries into hard little chunks. Ralph eats it on “The Simpsons.”
The stuff they put down to sop up kid vomit.
Do they still make that, whatever it was?
Woodfire smoke. Every. Single. Time.
Mothballs and Wrigley’s Spearmint gum remind me of my grandmother.
There is a certain brand of orange juice that smells a certain way that instantly takes me back to some of my earliest childhood memories.
The smell of Bondo brings me back to the days hanging out with my uncle while he did backyard bodywork on his and other folk’s cars. My job was to mix it up for him.
There is this sweet, grassy smell I occasionally get a whiff of in the air during the summer that takes me back to the days hanging out on a friend’s farm. I’ve never been able to determine exactly what plant causes that smell, but I’d love to so I could plant some in my yard!
Scratch and Sniff Stickers.
Huh???
The copy you were reading when you were a 6-year old prodigy had a certain musty, old-book smell, or something like that?
Nah, couldn’t be: you would be enough of a stickler to have mentioned that the correct translation of the title is “In Search of Lost Time”.
The smell of the kind of rubber used in rubber ducks and similar children’s toys.
Maxwell House coffee. Mom would percolate a pot of it to fill Dad’s thermos to bring to work.
New tires and used motor oil.
I spent much of my childhood with my dad working on cars and going to auto shops with him.
This and the smell of an unlit Marlboro ciggerette if I hold it right to my nose. The smell of a newly overhauled car engine being started for the first time takes me back to my teenage years.
Another one I just love is the smell of stagnant rain ponds, brings me back to catching tadpoles at about 6 years old.
Add me to the list of creosote fans. The smell reminds me of the utility poles in the summer.
Diesel fumes also bring back pleasant memories of going skiing as a child. However, I hate the smell of diesel fumes, always have.
The smell of this awful, too-strong floral bathroom freshening spray, and the smell of a pot-roast or chicken slowly cooking in the oven.
This too. Sometimes I’ll come across that specific kind of rubber in a totally different setting, and I’ll stand there for a minute thinking about Captain McDuck and the Bathtub Adventures.
I grew up on a chicken farm, so I’d say chicken shit. I always know when we’re approaching a chicken house when we’re driving down the road.
Chanel No. 5 instantly reminds me of when my mom would go out to parties.
Chicken pot pie is mine. She wouldn’t wear it 
but that’s the meal my brother and I were served whenever our parents went out to dinner or a party.
My mother grew lilies of the valley in front of our house, and smelling the scent brings back how my mother used to sing
White coral bells upon a slender stalk
Lilies of the valley deck my garden walk
Oh don’t you wish that you could hear them ring
That will happen only when the fairies sing
whenever I was sniffing their fragrance. Both my parents sang to me when I was growing up. Mom also had lily of the valley perfume on top of her dresser, and when I was little I used to explore the cosmetics she had set out there. Lily of the valley is what i remember best.
Johnson’s Baby Shampoo.
When I was about 18 and working at a resort in the Catskills, I ran out of shampoo and borrowed some from one of the girls I worked with. One whiff, and bam!, I was a toddler in the tub with my mother washing my hair. I probably hadn’t smelled it at all in a decade or more, but the memory was so intense and visceral, it was stunning.
Now, it reminds me of washing my own kids’ hair as babes. I hope it reminds them of me, someday…
Old books… When I was a kid, I’d love to go into Manhattan with my dad, when I had a day off from school. I’d spend a lot of time in this used book store. It was one of my favorite places to hang out (I was a nerdy kid lol). Nowadays, I primarily use a Kindle to read. But the rare times where I catch the scent of old books, I feel like I’m 10 years old again, or however old I was at the time.
Jean Naté. Grandma.
Also, Joy perfume was my mom’s fancy going-out perfume.
Vicks VapoRub reminds me of being sick when I was little.