Scent memories are memories 'scent'

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In recent years I feel we have lost our way somewhat, the focus on beauty and products is huge, which is great that we have the knowledge and the choices so readily available, but, I also feel that we have forgotten to love products, to embrace the memories they relight, to actually feel the product.
When The Somerset Toiletry Company sent me some of their divine products, the hand cream, candle and soap opened a plethora of memories.

One scented candle was like a book falling open and my life and love of candles was there for all the world to see. When I lived at home with my parents I was a 'fire hazard' one of my dressing tables was 'littered', I'd prefer to say the table was 'dressed' (my parents had a slightly different view), with candles of varying proportions and scents, these would be lit en masse and I would frequently singe my hair whilst attempting to extinguish every flame. The Verbena candle and its accompanying hand cream and soap pushed the memory of first experiencing the scent of Verbena in a beautifully lit shop in York, I can see the yellowing tones of the lights, the shelves packed with jars, bottles and baskets. I'm a huge believer in taking your time when it comes to any scented product, have a good sniff, inhale, spray, apply, whatever you can do and then 'have a wander' if you can't stop smelling the product, well, it's "a you". Of course, there are those moments when you just know, your olfactory system goes into over-drive and there it is, 'the fragrance'. Verbena immediately made an impression, I loved the greenness of it, fresh, lifting and refreshing, I bought a shower gel and used it within two weeks, I was obsessed with the scent I just drenched myself in the green gel. As the years passed, as the grey hairs become more resplendent, I know that any fragrance with Verbena listed as an ingredient will work on my skin.

Soap, when did a bar of soap become so quintessentially my past?  I spent years faking sincerity to maiden aunts for bars of soap and handkerchiefs given in the lurid wrapping paper for birthdays and Christmasses, the soap would be passed to my mother, who would appreciate it and its scent, often storing spare bars in clothing drawers.
I can not pick a date when the miracle of appreciating 'proper' soap happened, suddenly I too treasure these scented blocks, wrapped in pretty paper, I store them in my clothing drawers, I have a selection displayed in the guest bathroom and I hold my hands up that I love to 'borrow' them from hotels. It's like a stamp in a passport, been there, have the soap.
I can see my Uncle's bathroom, the sink adorned with a soap that was renowned for its staying power and all that would be left was the label that fitted neatly in the centre.
I remember the clear orange-toned soap that sat in the soap dish in our bathroom, it had a fruity scent and or the manly soap my father preferred, even now, coaltar soap makes me happy.

Recently, I opened a pot of moisturiser, immediately it took me back to my days in beauty retail and a certain cream one of my colleagues would kindly have signed out for me, I cherished each sample and suddenly, opening this jar took me back, I could almost feel the original cream, it was a lovely journey and the cream was superb as well.
I now, with sincerity intact, appreciate any fragrance or scent within a product that sets my mind whirling and takes me back to people & places. The joy of actually placing the 'smell' is a little like not having to Google something and using the brain to actually think of the answer.
It's lovely to find products that hold that memory, the older I become the more I appreciate, the more I greedily grasp at the memories that these bottles, jars and packets provide, with greater knowledge comes the loss of the creative, that's how I feel, we thrive for information, we log on, we search, we keep or heads down and forget to look up, see, feel, touch, smell and taste, we forget to experience the riches of something 'scent' to remind us of why we love some things so much.

Scent Memories are memories 'scent'

Lavender the scent of my mum, a memory, a heart full of love.

Dolce Vita by Dior will always be the memory of my best friend and I buying it for each other one Christmas and then continuing to do so, it became a tradition.

Opium by YSL, memories of the shop floor at Christmas, busy, chaotic and fabulous, I loved every minute.

Coco Mademoiselle by Chanel, my fragrance, the one that is commented on the most.

Samsara by Guerlain, my first expensive perfume, my dad said it made pigeons fall from the sky it was so strong.

Roast Chicken & potatoes, home-cooked dinners, I've never found roast potatoes like my mum made.

Freshly mowed grass, Sunday's, when shops didn't open and everyone just relaxed at home.

Fish & Chips, asking for one of each and a bag of scraps as a child, dashing to the chippy before the siren blared out and the Shipyard emptied out its workers, there was no getting to or fro once they'd left.

The Sea, days out, deckchairs, chips, beachballs, ice-cream and now HOME.

Thanks to The Somerset Toiletry Company for the many memories their products lifted from my past, here's to the new ones created thanks to their lovely range.

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