May 24, 2016  |  Uncategorized  |  1 Comment

Someone I went to grad school with said that she tried to hold on to the smell of a blanket her grandmother gave her. I tried it too, with a shirt. The smell fades.


If I ever smell Lady Stetson again, I would know it in a second. It would be the smell of Junior High and no friends and my sister is so cool. Paloma Picasso is my sister just before she moved out, it is what being an adult promised it could be.


Anais Anais is my mom.


In fact, she called me recently and asked about how she might find a bottle, even though it is discontinued.


The smell of campfire smoke is one of my favourites. I still love it. But it also has other connotations now. Emergency.

I wish that campfire smell stayed the way it was before forest fires in and around Slave Lake. But you can’t undo that.


Sometimes, when bad things are happening, I will use a different perfume. I will buy a new lotion or soap. Hand soaps are good for that. I think of it like a filing system. This smell will be attached to the memory, and when this is over, I can put this fragrance away and only take it out when I want. I am saving other scents from being attached to bad memories.


Perfumes get discontinued and reformulated, so sometimes a fragrance is just gone forever. I could never find that bottle of Anais Anais for mom.

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Rebecca Anderson November 13th, 2016 at 5:16 pm   

I will borrow from your experience and try to save favourite smells from becoming associated with bad memories. Excellent idea. Thank you. I too had the experience of my campfire-smell memory becoming mingled with wildfire-smell fear.

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