Nostalgia
We are always nostalgic, whether this be of childhood, last year, last month, or even yesterday. Nostalgia is derived from the Greek words νόστος (nóstos), meaning homecoming, and ἄλγος (álgos), meaning pain. We romanticize the past, but we are often left with a sense of emptiness when we realize we can never experience it again. Nostalgia is a powerful and all-consuming emotion, both comforting and melancholic.
A momentary glimpse into the past is possible through certain triggers, such as listening to an old song, flipping through photo albums, or revisiting certain places. We subconsciously associate these sentimental objects with past memories, but nonetheless skip to that one heart-wrenching song or smell that one perfume, the ugly past that we vowed to forget comes creeping back. Our sense of smell is often overlooked for its ability to uncover the most vivid yet forgotten memories.
According to a study conducted by Harvard Medicine, memories evoked by scents tend to be more emotional and more likely to uncover earlier memories as compared to our other senses. In his scientific article, “What Can You Do With Your Nose?” psychologist David A. Laird deems the sense of smell “overlooked as an avenue into the mind.” As one of the five senses of the human body, smell is one of the most influential on the brain. The human nose has hundreds of odor receptors, and when they interact with a specific odor molecule, sensory neurons fire electric signals to different parts of the brain. The olfactory system identifies smell, the amygdala is involved with emotion, and the hippocampus stores and organizes emotion. When all three work together, they can all help generate a sense of self-reflection, autobiographical memory, and emotion regulation, all generating an intense feeling of nostalgia.
Perfumes are one of the finest examples of the connection between scent and memory. Maison Margiela’s perfume line Replica defines itself as a “reproduction of familiar scents and moments.” According to its description, the fresh and floral scent of their popular scent, Lazy Sunday Morning, resembles the feeling of freshly washed sheets and slow mornings in bed, circa Florence 2003. For me, the scent conjures up images of an unforgettable East Coast summer. The perfume belonged to one of my friends, and while I associate the perfume with her, I also think about the memories of last summer. Our friend group finally reunited after not seeing each other for a while, and in light of this absence, we managed to make that one week unforgettable. Our day was spent stargazing on the beach that backed up to my friend’s house. At night, we would walk along the jetty. When I bought a travel size bottle of the perfume a couple months later, I found myself not reaching for it as much; I didn’t like the idea of smelling like my friend, since I always thought of Lazy Sunday Morning as her signature scent. The perfume also brought up a twinge of sorrow and embarrassment. Looking back on that summer, I was very insecure with myself, constantly seeking validation from other people. I was trying to be someone I wasn’t, and by the time summer ended, I felt alienated from my own identity and my own values. It took me a while to find myself again. To this day, Lazy Sunday Morning remains unused on my shelf.
Scents can also be associated with certain people and their memories. Since before I could remember, I would always visit my Grammy in DC. She lived in this beautiful, red-brick townhouse on Dupont Circle. She was sweet and generous to her five grandchildren, making each of us feel special in our own ways. I would visit her during Thanksgiving or Christmas when she would host dinners for our friends and family. Her energy lit up any room. When she passed away, we unfortunately sold her house. We moved around quite a bit when I was growing up, but her house had always welcomed me, feeling like a constant home base. Except for some jewelry and bags, I was left with no physical memory of her. Grammy will always have a special place in my heart, and sometimes, I’ll get a whiff of her warm scent randomly, but I haven’t always been able to pinpoint what it was. I always thought that whenever I smelled that scent, it was her spirit visiting me. It felt like a comforting hug, reassuring me that everything would be alright. I couldn’t tell you exactly what she smelled like until I was in my friend’s bathroom and I randomly started thinking of Grammy and her house.
“Your bathroom smells really nice,” I told my friend.
“Really?” She looked a bit surprised. “It’s just my Dove bar soap.”
That confirmed it. My Grammy would only use that soap in her bathroom, and while her scent was a combination of the soap and other fragrances, the next day, I bought a pack of Dove bar soap for myself. I like the soap, especially the clean and fresh feeling it leaves behind. Especially when I am away from home in college, smelling the soap calms me, making me think of the comfort of Grammy and her home.
Our sense of smell is extraordinary in so many ways and I am fascinated by how we have been able to manipulate and replicate scents. One of my favorite things to do is smell every perfume I own and reflect on different eras of my life. This perfume I wore during 7th grade, and that perfume I wore when I went on probably the worst date ever. Scents are like time capsules, with each one preserving a memory, waiting to be unlocked and relieved.