One of my most treasured scent memories is the smell of patchouli, which reminds me of my mum.
The angriest I remember seeing her was when my sister and I smashed (by accident) a tiny vial of patchouli oil which mum had treasured for over a decade, whoops!
It was small, maybe a couple of ml, but the house smelled of patchouli for weeks.
Our mum cried because she was so upset, my sister and I cried because mum was so angry with us, our dad cried tears of laughter because he thought the whole thing was amusing, and after a few days, we all cried because the smell just would-not-go-away!
For a few years, I was under the care of my grandparents and lived with them.
My first and most formative scent memory is the jasmine plant that my grandfather grew on his balcony. To this day smelling jasmine just reminds me of him, collapsing all notions of space and time. It’s the magic of olfaction on display.
My favourite scent memory is Mon Paris by YSL because it reminds me of travelling to new destinations and the excitement and new smells that you encounter on your arrival.