02 July 2019

Scent from the Past

Smells trigger strong emotions and memories.

On Sunday, reading In The Lavender Fields Of Surrey on the Spitalfields Life blog, I was stopped in my tracks by this image of a can of Yardley's talc powder.

It immediately brought to mind my beloved grandmother, my mother's mother. Buying a gift for her was always easy — she used copious quantities of Yardley's talc and always appreciated more.

Except I knew immediately that although the can was similar it wasn't the Lavender scent she used. Aromas are so redolent that I soon came up with the right one — April Violets. Yardley's is still selling that talc so I have another nostalgia item on my list to buy while I'm in England in October for RootsTech London.

What about the aromas from your past?

Don't miss the RootsTech London 3-day admission give-away.

7 comments:

Anonymous said...

Ivory soap. BT

S4Ottawa said...

Fpr my mother, it was definitely Yardley's lavender.

Jane Down said...

For me its Pond's Cold Cream. My maternal grandmother always used it. Even today when I smell it, I am transported back to the 1950s and am sitting on her knee.

Cookiequeen said...

You can find me standing in the bread aisle, with my eyes closed, inhaling the aroma of fresh bread. Brings back strong memories of my grandma and I looking into the back of the bakers truck that would arrive once a week at the cottage. Would she buy a pie or tarts or just a loaf of bread?

Sophronia said...

April Violets and Lavender will always be two of my favourites, but I doubt many will relate to my very favourite. It is a specific type of oil used in the past in race car engines and recognized worldwide by race enthusiasts as Castrol R, the R standing for race.

JDR said...

Sophronia: I wonder if that's the same distinctive odour I associate with my local motorcycle Speedway. As it wafted to you walking from the parking lot it raised the pulse five points.

Anonymous said...

Castrol brings back many happy memories — the thunder of big Corvette engines booming over the dunes at Bridgehampton or echoing back and forth between the hills at Lime Rock and competing with my brother to see who could bring home with the best photographs. He always won. — G