Have you ever leaned in to greet an ex and suddenly been overwhelmed by emotion? Chances are it’s not any lingering love remaining but rather their smell that’s doing the trick; our emotions are triggered by scent thanks to the limbic system, which deals with memory and, you’ve guessed it, all the big feelings.
Being engulfed in scents associated with a charged moment in our lives therefore transports us back to it – and I hold my brain’s loyalty to the memory of my first big romance responsible for the effect Hugo Boss Hugo Man Eau de Toilette, aka every single boy of 16’s favourite and in particular, an adored Rugby player’s chosen scent, has on me. One sniff and I’m a weak-kneed hormone-ravaged teen again, remembering stolen kisses upstairs in the library and heart-crushing broken promises.
I should probably stay away from that one, all things considered, but it does serve to prove to me that perfume is powerful – and when deployed correctly, can be truly life enhancing.
To get an idea of which smells are considered universally happy-making, I asked my followers on Instagram what their all-time favourites were and the results were resoundingly repetitive.
Fresh clothes came up again and again, with crisp white shirts laced with fresh air and fabric softener especially high on the list of delightful scents. Likewise fresh sheets.
Baking smells – cinnamon, sugar, vanilla – wafting from warm kitchens on icy evenings featured heavily. So did that mineral mist which slaps your face as you stand by the ocean, a hint of seaweed-y bite coming in billows.
An orange, freshly sliced open. Books, crowded together, their leathery spines holding the promise of a few hours of escapism. Cut grass. Suncream. Rain hitting tarmac. Rain hitting scorched earth. Rain hitting soil. Freshly-ground coffee. Basil, mint, lavender. Wet dogs. Dry dogs, too.
The answers came in thick and fast and, as I noted them, I tallied up a chart next to the most frequently occurring.
Here are the top six, along with a perfume option that best captures the essence of that thing, so you can always whisk yourself off to your happy place.
For clean clothes: Serge Lutens L’Eau Serge Lutes, £110
I blame films for the images a sniff of this conjures up. There is a bed, very clean. White sheets, pristine. Tanned skin, zero blemishes. An open window lets in fresh breeze carrying a little morning dewy mint and the sound of distant waves crashing. Maybe the odd click click of heels clacking down a sun-dappled street on their way to work.
It is a simple dream, but somehow one I only inhabit in my imagination. Never mind, one sniff of this bright, crisp fragrance makes me feel like I’m there, and I suspect it’ll do the same for you, too. It’s an investment, but one that works year-round making it season-less.
For the beach: Grenado Bossa Eau de Toilette, £58
The beach is these smells: hot sun making everything more potent, creamy coconut, mineral bursts of freshness from the ocean, a hint of citrus – maybe from that slice of lemon in your water, maybe because you’re snacking on an orange, or maybe because citrus trees are growing nearby (sigh).
The greatest triumph of this perfume isn’t only that it blends all of those successfully, but also that when spritzed on skin, it seems to warm it up, fusing to make you feel just like you’ve walked back from the beach, sand on your toes, salt in your hair, suncream baked onto your skin.
For your lover’s skin: Veronique Gabai Le Point G, £49
So many people told me that the best smell in the world was the warm skin of their girlfriend/boyfriend/lover/wife/husband, so I was determined to find one to mimic that feeling. Here it is.
A bit powdery, a bit musky, a bit woody. It morphs, precisely as skin does. Heat up, and you’ll get a bit more leather. Cool down, and it’s more spices and florals. It’ll keep you intrigued, which is only fitting for a scent which sets out to embody pure pleasure.
For a herb garden: Boy Smells Italian Kush, £110
Forget the Italian bit: this might have a whiff of extra potency you’d get from a herb garden privy to lots and lots of sun, but anyone who’s ever plucked basil from its stem and enjoyed the fresh herb whoosh combined with peaty, nutty earth will instantly find this perfume familiar.
It’s a big armful of garden things, so expect to find a hint of rhubarb, a squeeze of pomelo, a dash of mimosa, all topped off with a sprinkling of black pepper to give it a spiciness.
Yes it’s pricey, but it’s an absolute treat for the summertime, so well worth saving up for.
For a sweet escape: Gourmand Olfactive O, £65
My Viennese grandad was a pastry chef, and I think he must’ve passed his native skill onto my mum, who will every December bake delectable cakes and biscuits. When I was a teenager, I’d be in my room doing my homework, mouth watering as my nose was met by rum, vanilla, and sugar making its way through the house from the kitchen.
It is impossible to like the smell of baking – you either love it as I do, or it does nothing for you. If you’re with me on this one, this perfume should do the trick when there’s a sad lack of baking in the house. It contains the aforementioned rum and vanilla, but also Tonka, dark chocolate, fig, and, to ground it, notes of malted milk, warm amber, and earthy patchouli.
For nights out: Floral Street Wild Vanilla Orchid Eau de Parfum, £25
When I think of going out out, I think of proper ‘grown up’ perfume. I suspect this stems from my mum’s getting ready ritual. First came makeup before putting on something sequinned or silk with shoulder pads, applying a good spray of Elnett Hairspray to her crimped hair, and then she’d do two things before flying out the door: spritz perfume all over herself, and give me a kiss.
That perfume-laced memory is potent, and I don’t feel ready to go out without a good spritz of something simultaneously quite heady and feminine. This does the trick. Vanilla warmth hugs the skin while citrus and sandalwood add interest.
;
