If anything can transport you instantly back to a specific time, it’s encountering a certain scent, especially unexpectedly.
Today I was at Big Lots (what a fun store!) and I saw a jar of Noxzema–the original in the cobalt blue jar. I opened it and took a good whiff. I was immediately back in 1958, age 10, sitting on the sofa, slathering the very smelly, mysteriously cooling cream on my brand new sunburn. Noxzema was the go-to remedy during my tanning/burning years.
Another time, years ago, when limes were first starting to be favored over lemons as an iced tea garnish, I had a big bowl of limes, cut one in half, and smelled it. Instantly I was four years old next to the lime tree in our yard in Florida smelling a cut lime–a memory I hadn’t consciously accessed up until that moment.
One more: Mrs. Meyer’s cleaning products has a lemon verbena scented hand soap, dish soap, room spray–I have bottles of the hand soap at all my sinks. The reason-- (again) years ago (you use that phrase a lot when you’re old) Yves Saint Laurent made a lemony men’s cologne that a guy I was dating wore. Loved it–him, not so much and we eventually broke up. The next guy I dated–hehe, I bought him a bottle of Yves for Christmas. Did I mention I really loved that scent? Eventually we broke up, too, and Yves stopped making that cologne. Fast forward and one day I bought some Meyers lemon verbena hand soap, washed my hands, put them up to my face–holy smokes! It was the same scent. Gosh, how I had missed it. My little secret.
Me and my sisters used to spray Sun-in on our hair as soon as the pool opened every summer. I smell that and I am taken back to my pre-teen and teen years. Also, a boyfriend gave me Love’s baby soft perfume once. If I see it in a sampler anywhere I always spray some, so innocent and young I was, aahh!
I have read the sense of smell is the most evocative of memories. There is a specific mildewy smell in a lot of old buildings in Bangkok. It’s particularly prevalent in old government buildings but also places like the Alliance Francaise. I’ve always referred to the scent as “Bangkok Whorehouse,” because it does seem to be in some of the older bars too. I think it must be the specific cleaning products they use. But that smell is disappearing as newer construction takes over. That smell always brings back my early days in Thailand.
My daughter was a high school basketball player and her team visited my old high school for a game. The instant I walked into that gym I was sixteen years old again. The smell of old sweat, dust and cleaning products was unmistakable.
My beloved grandfather died in 1969, when I was 11.
In 2005 or so, I was going through boxes of material in the basement, where all the family stuff had been stored, and discovered it was full of some old shirts of his. They smelled of his cologne.
OMG the memories that suddenly burst into my head, when that scent hit me. It was overwhelming.
The smell of a department store instantly makes me think of my mother. It’s so strong and bitter sweet, I actively avoid going inside one around the holidays lest I get all verklempt.
Throughout my teenage years different fragrances were popular and, unlike today, you didn’t have hundreds of them to choose from. Everybody pretty much wore the same thing, such as Love’s Baby Soft that **Beckdawrek **mentioned.
Some others:
Original Ralph Lauren (in the square red bottle)
Tatiana
Gloria Vanderbilt
Charlie
Emeraude
They each transport me to a very specific time and again, very bitter sweet.
Balsam trees - childhood Christmases. I remember opening the boxes of Christmas tree ornaments as a kid and the scent from many trees past had permeated the boxes
New crayons - Elementary school
Hockey arena (distinct aroma of Zamboni exhaust, ice, cold air, rubber matting and probably smelly boys!) - my son playing hockey
Loves Baby Soft - junior high
Worms (!!) & outboard motor gasoline - fishing at the cabin with my dad
Soft & Dri deodorant - high school (not even sure if they make it anymore)
Once again I am 8 years old, hiking down a shaded country road with fellow day campers, towels over our shoulders, on our way to the camp’s rented swimming pool.
My brothers and I identify the smell of lentils cooking with our maternal grandparents’ house over Christmas; it’s one of the few recipes we got from that side of the family. On occasion the effect was so strong I was seeing Mom’s hall and Grandma’s superimposed - despite it having been me who’d put the lentils to cook! I mean, it’s not like it caught me by surprise.
Rosemary reminds me of my mother. It was her go-to herb. It was the first thing I planted after moving to Oregon, and I use it quite often. Whenever I pass by one of the ubiquitous bushes growing in yards here, I rub a little between my fingers and enjoy the fragrance.
Catchet reminds me of my Mom, and English Leather of my Dad, specifically when they would get dressed up and go out.
Hot concrete reminds me of skipping rope for hours with my friends in the old neighbourhood.
Coppertone and Noxema, as well as warm rubbery inner-tube - the lake.
Ban-o carpet sprinkles and cleaner - of my Dad’s old factory and business (janitorial supplies).
Samsara perfume - my sister Patti
Jean Nate and the powdery smell of a compact - my Grandmother
Lilacs - Springtime and my Mom
Dusty, warm canvas, CLP and diesel - Basic training, specifically riding in a MLVW (big truck)
Head and Shoulders and Right Guard deodorant- my first boyfriend
Drakkar Noir - My first love
Dolce and Gabbana Light Blue - a special guy I know
I worked at a drugstore while I was in college, and during the holiday season we would get in all of those sets and special editions of the classic drugstore fragrances. Love’s Baby Soft, Stetson, Le Jardin, Jean Nate, etc. One year we had large glass bottles (the size of a man’s hand) of bright green Emeraude displayed on the free standing shelves in the cosmetics department.
In hindsight, a bad idea. Someone inevitably bumped the shelf, and several bottles crashed down to the floor and smashed to bits, spraying green perfume all over. Everywhere it touched the floor it stripped the wax. The store reeked for weeks.
Chantilly perfume: reminds me of my grandmother, and her house.
Mrs. Field’s chocolate chip cookies: reminds me of my college girlfriend, whose summer job was working at a Mrs. Field’s location.
Hot caramel corn: takes me back to the late 1970s, and how Port Plaza Mall in Green Bay smelled, thanks to a Karmelkorn shop in the center of the mall.
Mothballs: reminds me of every Kmart, ever.
The smell of incompletely-combusted gasoline, mixed with oil: reminds me of my father’s hardware store. We did small-engine repair (lawnmowers, snowblowers, etc.), and that was the distinctive smell of that workshop.
The “rotten eggs” smell of sulfur-laden air pollution: reminds me of what Green Bay smelled like when I was a kid, due to the papermills.
Someone inevitably bumped the shelf, and several bottles crashed down to the floor and smashed to bits, spraying green perfume all over. Everywhere it touched the floor it stripped the wax. The store reeked for weeks.