Scent Memory Healing

Last night at Connecticut's Bee and Thistle Inn, peerless for comfort, cuisine, arts and culture, I met a dashing man who shared his love for Aromatics Elixir. He got that faraway look as he spoke of the perfume, and confessed to foisting it on his wife, though she is not a fan.

I recalled hounding a woman in a tropical climate, only to learn that the complex but ethereal scent attracting me was the very same. It smelled just right, even in the hot sun. Yet many who try this Clinique scent initially act like they've just gotten a whiff of some heavy like Youth Dew or Opium. The furrowed brow, the pursed lips and the inevitable comment about old ladies and/or my grandmother.

On another occasion when I asked a stranger about the marvelous fragrance, it had a funkier, hippie-vibe. Hint: patchouli, but hush-hush, the very mention of that leaf, despite its refreshing mint-family connections, clears any room.

This story has a purpose beyond perfume critique. Back to my new friend at the Inn. He was enjoying an evening at the rugby club with friends, all male. In burst a woman in trauma, just attacked on the street outside. She was emotionally out of control and no one could get her to talk. This went on. Finally one of the men, a burly police officer off-duty, commented: "You're wearing Aromatics." Immediately the assault victim snapped-to, and became herself.

So much talk about the personal memories triggered by scent and the places they take us. Now the idea that scent memories of another can foster healing in someone so in need. How strong is our desire to be known, to be recognized and remembered! This is the attraction of a "signature scent."