When I was 13, my slightly-younger step-uncle showed me my Christmas gift and said “Guess what it is!”

I said “Chanel No. 5”.

His jaw dropped. “How did you guess??”

“Because every woman alive wants Chanel No. 5”.

I wore Chanel No. 5 as a teenager, feeling very grown-up. Every time I smelled it as an adult, I thought, “I can’t do this again”. By a quirk and twist of fate, last year I found myself with a bottle of vintage Eau de Cologne. I put it on, half-expecting a flashback to my angsty teen years, but somehow the classic beauty of the scent transcended the scent-memory potential and I was hooked. Was I cured? I decided to explore other perfumes of my youth to see if we could prove Thomas Wolfe wrong and “go home again”.

I only revisited fragrances I wore into my mid-twenties. Scents I wore later on do not seem to have the emotional impact of some of these earlier scents, are generally easier to obtain in some form, and are fragrances I have either already dismissed or still wear.

The first perfume I remember having my own bottle of was Avon’s To a Wild Rose. Its dusky soft quality appealed to me, and looking back, it seems like it was fairly sophisticated for a girl of about ten or so. I found a vintage bottle (shaped like a giraffe – I love Avon) and gave it a whirl. To my surprise, I realized that this scent is a floral chypre; surprising, because I have trouble with oakmoss now and find it amusing that I started out with such a mossy scent. The drydown is fairly soft and powdery, and the rose is pretty quiet. I enjoyed wearing it, and think that this will be a great scent to cuddle up with for bedtime.

In my mid-teens, there was a drugstore I could walk to, and the counter had a good perfume selection. Radio advertisements for Helena Rubenstein Heaven Sent were in fairly heavy rotation, and I bought some. I can remember that it was fairly simple, pretty, and summery. I recently procured both some vintage and some of the current Dana interpretation to revisit. The top notes of the vintage needed to air out a bit, but it smells like I remember it, a bit sweet and floral. The sillage is fairly powdery, and I can see why it appealed to me. As it develops, it gets richer and a little more mossy/woody, and the far drydown is quite lovely.  It’s pretty and feminine. I am enjoying it and am glad for my little bottle, but it’s not something I will crave or reach for on a regular basis. It is a far cry from what the teens of today are wearing; much richer, more complex, and unique, yet still youthful. The current iteration is not much like the original, which is, sadly, to be expected, and I am glad it was extremely cheap, as it was gone in five minutes, and left a faint trace of baby powder scent.

I think I loved Dana Ambush more for the bottle I had than the fragrance. I would love to find that bottle again – wide at the bottom, narrowing to a slender neck, opaque, so perfectly coral-pink. The vintage Ambush I tried has a nice hit of floral lavender, a note I like in the right iteration. It doesn’t quite suit me now, but I have to say I am having fun with the memories I am having of that drug store, and shopping for my precious perfumes, perusing the Tabu, Emeraude, Tigress, and other enchantments.

My first grown-up perfume purchase, made when I was a late teen, was a bottle of Guerlain l’Heure Bleue. I distinctly remember the perfume counter, and the nice woman who waited on me, but I don’t remember exactly when I bought it or how I got the money, or what made me decide to spend that cash on perfume. I do know that I loved it almost beyond reason, and was completely thrilled with the purchase. I wish I knew where that bottle went, but there have been many moves between then and now. I have a bottle of Guerlain l’Heure Bleue Eau de Parfum in my collection, largely desired because of that memory, and worn with fondness. I am desirous of a bottle of extrait, as well, because it is so lovely.

In my twenties I wore a number of fairly popular and easy to obtain, highly advertised perfumes, one of which was Diane Von Furstenberg’s Tatiana. I believe my bottle came from the Cosmetique club, which sent a collection of makeup, skin care, and an occasional fragrance once a month for $10 or so. I was working in Oakland at a place that made jewelry and roach clips, and had a really good family in the people I worked for and with, so my memories are fun.  I was excited to try it again, because I really loved it back then. The instant I tipped some vintage edp out of my sample vial onto my wrists I travelled back in time. It is a deluxe white floral, rather tropical fragrance, sweet, sunny, and the right kind of soapy. Youthful, but in no way juvenile.  It’s beautiful, but do I really want to wear it again? After a few hours I began to feel a little uncomfortable in my skin. Maybe I will wait for a sunnier day and try it again.

I stumbled on two versions of vintage Revlon Jontue, Perfume Concentrate and Cologne, so tried them both.  I wore Jontue like mad when I was in my 20’s, and loved the soft sensuality of the advertising. Trying these may have been the most charged moments of this whole experiment – I wore Jontue a lot, really loved it, and my scent memory systems were on overdrive. I wasn’t remembering specific things – mostly my old friends and coworkers, and our environment and culture. Jontue is a woody floral scent and although it is really lovely, it is a bit too cloying for me now. It would have been perfect then – nice and sweet for my younger self.

Pavlova, by Perfumes Payot, was a parental gift, and one of my favorite bottles of perfume, with its beautiful floral wreath design. It was quite adult and always made me feel a bit more grown-up than I was – not old, just more mature. It made me have better posture when I wore it. The bottle I have now smells just as I remember it, and again, I am amused in finding that I was really enamored of a dreaded chypre. Wearing it as I write this, I am sitting a bit straighter in my chair. Maybe since the muse for the scent was the lovely ballerina Anna Pavlova, it inspires one to be more graceful and upright. I can see wearing this scent again – it is dry and green, with a mossy, slightly soapy underbelly.  I will enjoy pulling out that pretty Nouveau bottle now and then, too.

There was a point in my late twenties when I had moments of feeling like I was coming into myself as a person, finding out what it really meant to be an independent woman in the world. For those moments I chose Estee Lauder Private Collection. When I wore it, I felt like it matched the woman I was becoming: forthright and full of character. It is known for its unabashed greenness, and although it has mostly floral notes, I never think of it as a flowery scent. When I tried to wear it again, it no longer worked for me at all. It was too strident and loud and sharp. I can appreciate it, but no longer want it in my airspace. Now that I am older and have reached a point in life where who I am matters more than what people think of me, I no longer need the armor the Private Collection afforded me.

I have enjoyed this fragrant trip back in time. Although many of the fragrances I tested were not suitable for me now, I cherish the memories, and love the fact that I have these perfumes on hand to wear now and then when I feel nostalgic. Many thanks to my perfumista friends who helped me obtain samples of some of these vintage fragrances. Collecting vintage perfumes can be a crapshoot, and your assistance was invaluable.

I hope I have inspired you to try a few of your old loves. Let me know if you have done that, or what your favorites were back in the day.

–Tama Blough, Editor