Scent is a memory...The inside of your grandmother’s glove, scarf and brooch drawer…the brooches are still fastened to the silk scarves, and the scarves still have a lingering fragment of Miss Dior, or L’Aimant and the butter soft gloves have taken on the form of the hands that wore them. Gloves which touched scarves, scarves which touched throats. Perfumed wrists and perfumed throats. Perfumed DNA shared between women in the family.

Or that moment when a stranger walks by and you are taken back through a slip in the folds of eternity to the Christmas you were first kissed.

Not always the same perfume, but always perfume . Now stop. And breathe. Close your eyes and remember. The days, the months, the years. The big days and the ordinary days. The passing of the seasons.  The women and men who have made our days. The women and men and their scents. The women and men who have created our memories. It will only take one moment, one olfactory molecule. And we are back with them. We, the daughters and grand-daughters, the lovers and friends. Our smaller hands inside the glove drawer. Our older hands holding the photo of him and remembering how he smelled. A scented snapshot to  take out of a long forgotten corner of our brain and bring memories and people back to life. Not all the posts on this blog will be about vintage scents. But all the posts will be taking you on my personal olfactory journey, past and present.