The fragrance affair
Yesterday I went to a Fragrance Fair on Michigan Avenue, and walked out holding a sizeable “goodie bag” with a perfume purchase and gifts. The excursion took about 30 minutes, and was the perfect remedy for this gal who’s been under maximum stress lately. I proceeded home with a floating stride, and memories of my favorite perfume fragrance.
I won’t say what fragrance it is. I hope everyone finds their own. And I suggest they pick one. My point is: commit to a fragrance, at least for awhile.
Firstly (yet not most importantly), for practical purposes. Keep one fragrance, and your scarves, cuffs and collars will keep it between washes and dry cleans, so when you put them on again, your perfume re-apply may be light. If you use more than one fragrance, you risk clashing fragrances.
Secondly, because ’tis true that the sense of scent triggers memories. I found this scent years ago, per a perfume lady at a department store who spritzed it on me, and I loved it. It was in time for a trip to visit my long-distance boyfriend. We’ll call him, “David.” Eventually we broke up, and eventually I stopped using the perfume. One afternoon on the ‘L’ train I smelled the same scent again — and I thought “David!” Because I’d initially selected that perfume while anticipating a trip to see him. I asked the woman across from me, “Is that ___________.” She nodded, and we chatted a bit.
Soon, I found my way back to a department store to purchase that fragrance again. And it still suited me better than other perfumes I’d tried. David ebbed in my memory. This perfume remained mine.
People responded to the scent, and asked me what it was. Fellows I dated especialy liked it. One ex-beau iterated the power of scent. He’d contacted me long after we’d broken up and we agreed to meet for a drink. not to rekindle anything I’d asserted beforehand, yet to catch up.
He noticed my perfume again, and confessed that at times when he was about and had walked by a woman who happened to be wearing the same scent, he’d suddenly remember, “Jacquee!”
Of course, in these perfume-inspired visits to the past, we remember the good moments. That’s when we smell the perfume, consciously or subconsciously — when things are amicable, amorous, or comforting. A waft brings us right back to that. It’s nice, invigorating even, and still somehow a part of us. We don’t necessarily want to stay. Yet we enjoy the re-visit.
Now, with past beaus, few had committed to one fragrance. If I liked what they were wearing, I commented on it. And I guess, my favorite of what they wore, resonated. Later on, some fellow would walk by and suddenly I’d remember the beau (past or present) who wore the same scent. And I’d breathe in that scent, and sigh. And keep walking.
There’s something about a fella who captures the masculine fragrance that represents him, and knows it.
And there’s something to my knowing the scent that suits me, and walking home toting my fragrance in the form of perfume sprays and lotions, after another stressful day and one fragrance fair, and all the memories that come back.
How do you choose the fragrance you wear?