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I hardly have any "scent-experience" memories catalogued in an easy to access way. The best example I have is a story from two years ago.
My girlfriend Lily had ordered a bathing suit online and for reasons that are presently unclear, the packaging was shoved in my face (playfully, I assure you). Instantly, I was taken somewhere, somewhere far back in my youth. The smell triggered something in my brain and wisps of some of my earliest memories began to take shape.
We paused whatever game or banter we were engaged in so I could think. The smell of the plastic wrapping was plastic-like, quite obviously, but also metallic, sterile, faintly medicinal. Then came the eureka moment. My brain paired the smell to the corresponding memory, and I became a preschooler again in my parents' room in their old Chicago apartment and my mother was helping me with my asthma inhaler. The smell of the plastic packaging matched the taste of my asthma medicine.
I hated taking my asthma medicine. But I love taking hits of nostalgia.
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This post is a part of Think Kit by SmallBox
We paused whatever game or banter we were engaged in so I could think. The smell of the plastic wrapping was plastic-like, quite obviously, but also metallic, sterile, faintly medicinal. Then came the eureka moment. My brain paired the smell to the corresponding memory, and I became a preschooler again in my parents' room in their old Chicago apartment and my mother was helping me with my asthma inhaler. The smell of the plastic packaging matched the taste of my asthma medicine.
I hated taking my asthma medicine. But I love taking hits of nostalgia.
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This post is a part of Think Kit by SmallBox
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