When I’m home alone I can walk into my sister’s bedroom and immediately know where she’s gone, what the vibe is and roughly what time she’ll be home. The various scents that comprise her selection of perfumes all signify where she might be. There’s the I’m in the office today scent which tells me she’ll be home just after 6, the I’m out for a romantic dinner scent, either she’ll be back around 10.30pm or she’ll be staying over at her boyfriend’s, or the I’m out for a mad one scent, well, I’ll definitely be asleep before she gets back. Whether or not her perfume choices are conscious or in-the-moment, she shifts between them depending on the mood.
I, on the other hand, stick hard-and-fast to one signature scent and if a friend tells me I must try their d-e-l-i-c-i-o-u-s perfume and sprays me before I get the chance to say no, I’ll spend days feeling aware of a lingering unfamiliar scent.
While this hyper-sensitivity to scent managed to bypass my sister, my brother said he could tell I was spending a lot of time with the cat because Lucky smells like Helena, and when I was a teenager my mother would know if I’d had even the smallest puff of a cigarette, in spite of my attempts to cover it with multiple hair washes, excessive hand washing and packets of Extra Ice chewing gum. Only writing this now do I realise my behaviour was probably more a give-away than a faint odour of tobacco, but still I remain convinced that my powerful sense of smell runs in the family.
For my sixteenth birthday my lovely godmother bought me a Coco Mademoiselle eau de toilette, which was my first ever ‘grown up’ perfume (the perfume I was using previous to this was Intimately Beckham which at the time I thought was the height of class, but was subsequently discontinued even by Boots). Upon opening this present little did I realise that six years later I would rather smell of nothing at all than smell of anything other than Coco Mademoiselle, and that even my blog of the moment would be (kind of) named after it. The perfume has become such a part of my identity that it’s on every birthday and christmas wish-list I write, and an internal panic sets in when it’s running low.
I guess time will tell but I can’t imagine ever changing my signature scent. Does anyone else feel this way about their perfume? Let me know!