The Fragrance Foundation UK

Dior Fahrenheit reminds me of my Dad on family summer holidays. Of nights together for family meals, enjoying the warm summers without a care in the world and my brothers trying to wear the same scent as my Dad.  When I smell the fragrance now it always takes me back to very fond summer fun.

There is nothing quite as potent as that of a smell that leads you to a memory. There is something particularly fascinating about the effect that perfume has on the mind, as it has the ability to evoke all types of feelings of nostalgia, love or loss. For me I’ve always regarded perfume as being something aspirational. It’s the hidden accessory of an outfit that gives you that little something extra, that people tend to remember you by.

For me, there is nothing quite as memorable as the fragrance that is worn by a best friend of mine, to remind me of how wonderfully extraordinary she is. Whenever I smell this scent I think of her amazing sense of style, that she makes look so effortless, her ability to be confident in her bare skin, and an aura/glow around her that makes her beautiful both inside and out! And that is why whenever I smell Deep Night by Ghost, I will always be reminded of you, Rachel.

My childhood holidays were mainly spent on boats – in France or the Norfolk Broads – and redolent of boat-y smells: my mother’s Ambre Solaire suntan-oil, swampy water, diesel and an all-pervading hint of damp – a heady combination that just spells ‘summer’, for me! Along with the smell of my dad’s ale, baskets of lavender, grassy shores and one memorable occasion of cow’s breath (stuck its head through the boat window and licked my face while I slept).

The strongest memory I have is of the first perfume I ever sniffed on one such holiday – a fragrance marketed at children (quite usual in France) that I’ve long since forgotten the name of. The juice was green, I think it had a plastic leaf top, and it smelled divine. Thinking of it after all these years, I can smell it right now… such is the power of #ScentMemories.

After the lady in the shop sold it to me (all of my pocket money, but she wrapped it very carefully in brown paper and string), I sat with it on the scratchy blanket of my bed, smelling tomato leaves, blackcurrants, shady woods, wet grass and sky – my mind utterly blown by how someone had managed to cram a whole garden – a whole world! – in a small glass bottle that fitted (just) into the palm of my hand. It still blows my mind, to be honest, and led to a lifetime fascination with fragrance I’ve been lucky enough to make a career of.

The Hollister store moved into my town Southampton when I was in secondary school. The one thing people always commented on was that the whole store smelt like their signature So Cal men’s cologne. I’d never had a proper cologne before, then when I turned 17, I had some birthday money. I bought a bottle of So Cal and it became my signature almost instantly – my friends would say they knew I was coming because they’d smell me before I appeared.

Every Christmas I get a new bottle which lasts me until the next year, it’s the only true staple of my life.