sniffers

The other night Ms. Longsocks and I were postulating how Kevin Spacey might smell. In my mind, he smells musky, like old sweaters and dusty library books, and sweaty in that special way only stage-actors smell sweaty. Niki suggested he might wear Old Spice. We agreed he probably wore something disgusting like Drakkar Noir and the smell of him would be completely disappointing if we were ever to meet him in person.

I've always had a very sensitive nose, and my most powerful memories, good or bad, tend to have very memorable odours or scents attached to them. The smell of my Mom's pillows when we'd climb in early in the morning, the sour smell of alcohol on my Dad's breath when he'd come in to kiss us in the middle of the night and the clean sweet smell of his aftershave when he hugged me goodbye a few days before he died, the combined smell of cigarette smoke and whatever brand of soap one of my violent exes wore, the earthy biological way my kids' heads smelled in those precious few hours after being born before they were touched by too many hands and too many things, the hoochie knee-weakening pheremone smell of my husband's armpits...

There are odours that evoke emotion for me too, for very non-specific reasons, either becuase the origin has been forgotten, or because there are too many memories attached to credit just one. The smell of freshly-bleached cotton, releasing the aroma from the leaves of a tomato plant, birch-wood fires, railroad tracks, and a cut cucumber all make me smile; mildew on anything, frying beef, watermelon, hydrogen peroxide, and Polo Sport cologne make me intensely uncomfortable.

How powerful is your sense of smell memory?