Scent has been a part of my life since I can remember; the scent of places, the scent of people, the scent of things.
The very earliest memory, around three or four, was of my mom's Chanel No5, first thing in the morning, after she left for the office. The kitchen would have the lingering, aromatic molecular mixture of White flowers, Aldehydes and Arachis hypogaea, also known as peanut-butter toast. The second memory is from the same timeframe when Lena, our babysitter, would take us over to her house, where her husband smoked pipe tobacco. I vividly remember watching him play pool in their basement, me sitting on a black leather bar stool, breathing in the acrid, dense air of pipe smoke, spicy Avon cologne and chalk dust from the pool cue.
At the age of five we went on a trip to Bermuda, where we toured the island for a number of days. Having parents that were travel agents, it seemed that we got to visit every museum and interesting sight, no matter where we traveled. Looking back, I have to thank my parents for exposing me to such amazing art, culture and experiences. Today being Fathers day, I'm posting a picture of my sister, my dad and me standing at one of the armaments from that trip to Bermuda.
During that trip we visited a small perfumery, which I don't remember the name, but might have been The Bermuda Perfumery. The tour of the small perfumery included seeing how they made and bottled the perfume, as well as some of the techniques for creating raw materials. At that time they had raised tables, with wooden legs and glass plates slathered with fat and flowers placed upside-down. I can still see myself on tip toes, looking over the edge of the tables, inhaling the scent. To this day, whenever I take a tour of a city, museum or attend a class, I'm very attentive, never wanting to miss a piece of information. I recall them telling us about how they made perfumes and essences, it all seemed so logical.
On that trip to Bermuda, I remember getting a few things: my blue t-shirt that said "I Survived the Bermuda Triangle", a slice of aromatic wood with a crystal attached and a profound olfactory experience that inspired my lifelong pursuit of aromatics. The t-shirt is long gone, the aromatic wood, which I deeply inhaled the scent for years, is lost to time but the experience at the perfumery is with me every day. I have my father searching for the photos from that tour. My family remembers many of the photos, but after all these years, which box are they in? Thank you dad for looking for those photos and making my life happen.
- Daniel Krasofski