Tea, Earl Grey, Hot

You either get the reference, or you don’t. I can only imagine the solace that the delicate, sprightly bergamot smell would offer to a Starfleet Captain who is lightyears from home, but I’d guess it’s similar to the immediate relaxation and pleasure that I feel when I inhale over my own cup of tea. The feeling of comfort and youthfulness might be because bergamot is the same flavoring that’s used in Trix cereal, but whatever the reason, it’s nice to have such a reliable talisman to call upon in times of unease or fatigue.

Clove Cigarette

A bittersweet mixture of Knott’s Berry Farm at night, ripe with the promise of cruising, anonymous teenagers (although I was usually the “friend” in that scenario), and the disastrous Halloween party I attended in high school, when what I didn’t know about the guy I’d been giggling with in the corner all night blew up in my face, in the form of his late-arriving, angry, tear-stained girlfriend. I fled the party in shame, remorseful and angry that I wasn’t able to resolve what I felt was an innocent misunderstanding.

Today, the sweet smell begs to be inhaled deeply, even as the warning that “smoking cloves makes holes in your lungs” claxons away in my head. The mixture of youthful insouciance, anticipation, and hyperintensity is a heady one–practically worthy of reformulating as incense, except that the accompanying entwined emotions of excitement and remorse aren’t really a combination I’d willingly seek out for very long.

Ivory Soap

First encountered when washing my hands at preschool (we used Zest at home), and then more recently at J—-’s house when we were both studying or writing for Comps. It’s kind of a sharp, indefinable scent, which contains the rarely encountered lemongrass. One whiff and you’re awash in images of purity, simplicity, fluffy white towels, and a bar of soap dropped into and then floating in a clear water-filled basin. It’s impossible to confuse the smell with anything else, especially if you’ve ever had your mouth washed out with it. Although it’s a bit too intense for me to want to smell like it for an entire day, the scented lather and warm water carve out a respite that primes me for whatever’s coming next.

Vick’s VapoRub

After the medicinal blast of camphor, the brrrrr rush of cold. This is a chilling, contracting smell, punching back the walls of a cave to make more space for itself. A cold, dark atrium where small bats have been roused and can suddenly fly free. The effect is bracing in the same way a slap might wake you up from a doze – you’re awake alright, but you’re not that grateful for it. Perhaps if the result were more gradual it would be more welcome?

I’m a little feverish, sore throat, headachy, a little grumpy. The camphor smell of the Vick’s serves to intensify, not soothe, these feelings, since the only time I seek it out is when I’m feeling exactly this way. It’s a reverse feedback loop – I know I’ll feel better eventually, but the smell reminds me of the fact that I don’t feel very good right now.

Milk Plus 6 Shampoo & Conditioner

Washing my hair in the communal showers at the San Clemente Beach campground. Sand bluffs and summer and relaxation, combined with the (though I didn’t quite understand the sensation at the time) sexy smell of herbals. Something was supposed to happen, but I didn’t know what, just that the smell made me feel good and ready for anything. Currently echoed by Method’s Lavender Thyme shower gel, which now makes me feel nostalgic.

July 2008: So many people are interested in getting this shampoo back on the market. Given the past and current interest in nostalgia, plus the desire for a product that is tried and true, such a thing just might be possible! If you’d like to give them a call, the phone number for Revlon’s Comment Center is 800-473-8566. Thank you to Lisa, from comments, for providing the number!