I don’t have as much a signature scent as I do a signature feeling.
I want to exude sweet innocence, but with a rich complexity. I often lean towards delicate florals and comforting lactonic notes.
December 30, 2021, 8:00:00 PM
Samantha Golden Raskin
I was backpacking through Europe a few years back— we were in the French countryside, staying at a Chateau we had happened to find on AirBnb on the train to the town. It was serendipity. When we arrived, we found our room, golden sunset pouring in, with dust floating in the light just as you’d imagine storybook magic to look.
I opened the old window, and sat in the creaky sill, swinging my tired legs to the outside. The damp, earthy aroma of the antique, well loved wood and the sharp greenery of grass, consumed me, simultaneously reminiscent of the familiarity of an old book, and the augur of adventure to come. I was invigorated. The next moment, I found myself leaping onto the damp seemingly untouched grass and grabbed my bicycle, despite not having ridden since the age of 8. My limbs and inquisitive spirit took over as I was barreling through down pathway, alongside pastures of grazing horses and golden fields of crops.
A clearing up ahead drew me in, and I collapsed on the grass with a blissful sigh. I discarded my shoes and as many layers of my clothing as I could, feeling wholly independent for the first time in my adult life. I basked in the feeling of glowing warmth, fresh and unexplored greenery, basking in my own youthful naivety, treating this unfamiliar ground as an old confidant. When I look back on this memory, I am once again overwhelmed by the feeling of utter carefree bliss.
If I could bottle this moment, it would capture the sweet and vegetal scent of the fresh greenery, not only of the damp grass, but the greenery of youth. Fresh leafy aroma, an edge of citrus, mellowing out with a mild sweetness of vanilla, warmth of amber, a base of comforting smoky notes and dampened old wood.