The smell of a leaky Zippo lighter my grandfather kept in his tackle box. Meant fishing on Lake Table Rock with my Grandad
♫ I remember the smell
Of the creosote plant
When we’d have to eat on Easter
With my crazy old uncle and aunt …♫
Jimmy Buffett - “Life is Just a Tire Swing”
Persian Wood - my mother
Jovan White Musk - first girlfriend
Play-doh - early grade school
Halloween candy - none of the candies smell like that, but all together … 
Burning fall leaves - favorite season
Wood chips/sawdust - My grandfather was a woodworker/carver and that smell takes me back to his garage and woodshop.
Fresh laid asphalt - Going to the amusement park in the summer.
I’ll defer to you on the French translation, but my copy is similar to the one pictured here, and as you can plainly see, they translated the title as Remembrance of Things Past.
I was referring to perhaps the most famous vignette within the opus: “The Cookie,” or perhaps you’d be more at ease with la madeleine. Proust writes that the sight of the cookie did nothing for him, but the taste immediately transported him to when he was a child and his aunt would give him a madeleine dipped in her own tea, and he instantly recalled the scene and the sensory framework.
Yes, me too. My Grandfather was a carpenter (he became a construction foreman working on the NYC subway system many years ago). He also built the house that my mom grew up in, built his own camper, most of the bookcases and desks in the house I grew up in (and am living in now) were built by him.
Anyway, whenever I smell sawdust, I think of the time when he and I worked together on building my pinewood derby car for the cub scouts.
Diabetic old lady farts. Takes me right back to grandma’s kitchen, where she was making her own sauerkraut.
Turpentine. Reminds me of our basement and the area off its stairway where Pop kept his tools. Mostly it would be open when he was painting one side of the house each summer.
I doubt it was ether, but my grandfather was a pediatrician, and his office had a smell (back in the 60’s) that would definitely take me back, and for some reason I associate it with ether. However, I don’t know if I’ve ever smelled ether other than the time my grandpa anesthetized me for a tonsillectomy at age 3. Still, I have smelled his office smell and yup, right back I go.
The biggest for me, I was going to say, was the smell of the beginning of a summer rain on hot pavement, only to find it’s probably …
Also, burning leaves, or a cedar bonfire.
That’s the title of the one I read, too, but Nabokov didn’t like that translation. He had a completely different suggestion, one I don’t remember but didn’t care for, not sounding to me nearly as poetic as ROTP.
Astyptodyne. It went on most of my cuts and lacerations.
Cow crap. Both of my grandfathers had small farms in eastern Kentucky. Whenever we pass a feed lot I think about those farms.
Certain coffee shops that also have pastries going. Smell memories of that sort I find really amazing.
Acetone. That was the smell of the chemical plant in my hometown. Reminds me of going to meet my father for lunch in the cafeteria, or the Saturday morning Loony Tunes movies they would play for the kids of the employees.
Honeysuckle. There was a patch of honeysuckle vines across the road from our house. I would go with my best friend and crawl back into the honeysuckle to make our clubhouse fort.
For me it would be Bactine. Takes me back to the bathroom in the house I grew up in where it was kept in the cabinet.
The smell of “school” or “small children” of course takes me back to daycare and public school. Someone described it once as a cross between sour milk and wet mittens. Funny how nowadays the smell of “small child” grosses me right out.
Play Doh
Colorforms
Wooden Tinkertoy sets
Freshly poured Pepsi. Soft drinks of any kind were a rare treat for me as a child…but my grandparents always kept Pepsi in their fridge because their well water didn’t taste that great. So anytime I was at their house and wanted something to drink, it was Pepsi. I liked holding my nose over the cup to feel the bubbles springing up…I guess that’s why there’s such a strong association with the smell rather than the taste.
Some good ones in here: Jean Nate, Ten O SIx lotion. Calomine lotion. Mimeograph ink.
My dad wore Aqua Velva. Once I followed a man all over a mall so I could keep on smelling his Aqua Velva.
Love’s Baby Soft!
latex paint is the smell of my childhood. Living in my mom’s flipping project of the year.