I tie a lot of emotions and memories to smells. Just today I had a lemon Starburst, which tasted a bit like how Lemon Pledge smells. This smell is one the first fragrance related memory I have, of my mother cleaning the furniture when I was a little girl, the others being Italian "gravy," and the cabbage odor of my Aunt's Brooklyn apartment building.
A few years ago I bought a bottle of Halston a few years ago because I have a bit of a foggy memory of having a tiny bottle of it that I dabbed on my Barbies in the driveway of the kids who lived next to my grandmother's house, it always smelled like my first memories of feeling sexual. Likewise Love's Babysoft reminds me of my preteen longings to be a bona fide teen, and Lancome's Magie Noir smells like losing my virginity
and Myrtle Beach. Tatiana smells like heavy petting and smoking pot. Every bottle on my dresser has a memory or era attached.
When I first became aware of how I loved how a man, well let's make that males smell, was when my first love gave me his track sweatshirt. I was excited just to have something of his, but when I put it on to go to sleep I realized that it had this pungent odor, not a bad one, just his personal smell of teenage hormones. I flipped out when my mother decided to wash it and I was too embarrassed to ask him to wear it and give it back to me. But as luck would have it, we broke up, he got his sweatshirt back for a few days, and then it was returned to me with his stinkiness all over it.
As I've mentioned previously in other posts, I love how Teacher smells. So the other day when he was gathering his belonging, I couldn't help but ask if I could borrow the t-shirt he was wearing under his sweater. He tossed it to me, it wasn't too covered with his odor, but more so just clean laundry. Still, I happily wore it to sleep and it made me feel warm and safe. Then a day or two later, he switched out that tshirt for one he had worn for a longer part of the day. Ahh, now this tshit smelled like Teacher!
This t-shirt I have yet to wear. I don't want to impart my own smell on to it. Instead, I've been sleeping with it in a little ball like it's a teddy bear, and every so often I get a whiff of his scent and I imagine he is there right beside me. Part of me think it is a tad freaky that I am huffing this t-shirt like a bottle of rush, but then if I wasn't freaky I wouldn't be writing this blog would I?
A few years ago I bought a bottle of Halston a few years ago because I have a bit of a foggy memory of having a tiny bottle of it that I dabbed on my Barbies in the driveway of the kids who lived next to my grandmother's house, it always smelled like my first memories of feeling sexual. Likewise Love's Babysoft reminds me of my preteen longings to be a bona fide teen, and Lancome's Magie Noir smells like losing my virginity
and Myrtle Beach. Tatiana smells like heavy petting and smoking pot. Every bottle on my dresser has a memory or era attached.
When I first became aware of how I loved how a man, well let's make that males smell, was when my first love gave me his track sweatshirt. I was excited just to have something of his, but when I put it on to go to sleep I realized that it had this pungent odor, not a bad one, just his personal smell of teenage hormones. I flipped out when my mother decided to wash it and I was too embarrassed to ask him to wear it and give it back to me. But as luck would have it, we broke up, he got his sweatshirt back for a few days, and then it was returned to me with his stinkiness all over it.
As I've mentioned previously in other posts, I love how Teacher smells. So the other day when he was gathering his belonging, I couldn't help but ask if I could borrow the t-shirt he was wearing under his sweater. He tossed it to me, it wasn't too covered with his odor, but more so just clean laundry. Still, I happily wore it to sleep and it made me feel warm and safe. Then a day or two later, he switched out that tshirt for one he had worn for a longer part of the day. Ahh, now this tshit smelled like Teacher!
This t-shirt I have yet to wear. I don't want to impart my own smell on to it. Instead, I've been sleeping with it in a little ball like it's a teddy bear, and every so often I get a whiff of his scent and I imagine he is there right beside me. Part of me think it is a tad freaky that I am huffing this t-shirt like a bottle of rush, but then if I wasn't freaky I wouldn't be writing this blog would I?
0 comments:
Post a Comment