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neonanimaI wish I could say that I developed an interest in fragrance because I was a sensualist, because smelling the world was experiencing it and I couldn't get enough of that. But I associate my first bottles of perfume with a sudden, brief explosion of conformism from roughly ages 11 to 13. By chance, a popular girl was my neighbor and an outgoing little Aries jock. We hung out all summer before I went to middle school. I must've seen it as a chance to reinvent myself and I wanted to wear the uniform—American Eagle, Tommy Hilfiger, Abercrombie & Fitch, Gap.
Someone gave me a set of Bonne Bell's Bottled Emotions. "Shy" was my favorite, or maybe "Mello" - a little vanilla-y with warm, calm spicey sweetness. I wore them accordingly and aspirationally. "Flirty" or "Playful" if I was going to see a boy I liked, "Crazy" if I was hanging out with the Aries friend, etc. (These are going for absurd prices on eBay now and I can't even find "Shy." Tragic.)
It's uncomfortable thinking about the reasons I wanted so badly to wear the Tommy Hilfiger brand. I don't remember any special love for the aesthetic and I'm pretty sure I've always thought the colors and logo were boring and generic, so it had to have been all about class for me. No more Social Security House in the Woods, no more boys saying I looked like a "hooker" because I wore black tights under ripped denim shorts, no more the neglected and unloved, unlovable whelp. I would be the clean (white), cared-for (rich), preppy (white), comfortable (white, rich), pretty (white, skinny) New Girl. This New Girl who wore Tommy Hilfiger smelled, of course, like the Tommy Hilfiger fragrance Tommy Girl.
I haven't smelled it in a while, but I think I'd still find Tommy Girl a nice scent. Fragrantica says the top notes are apple tree blossom, camelia, mandarin orange and black currant; middle notes are lemon, honeysuckle, grapefruit, rose, lily, mint and violet; base notes are magnolia, jasmine, cedar, sandalwood and leather. It's not a preppy, WASP-y smell, which is what I associate the brand with in retrospect. I remember it smelling fresh, youthful, not like any one particular thing in its notes — like the fragrance itself doesn't want to neglect any of the popular sweet scents of the time. The oranges and apples big at Bath and Body Works at the time are all represented. The prettiest and most classic flowers are all there.
The less racially-socioeconomically loaded scents from my adolescence were Bath and Body Works, and these seem to be the first run of products that made them a Thing. My grandmother, my sister and I all loved there lotions, so there were always bottles of Country Apple, Cotton Blossom, Sweet Pea, Cucumber Melon, and Freesia around. Cotton Blossom seems to be the one that I ended up using the most often, my I-don't-like-this-but-my-hands-are-dry go-to. I think because this is the scent I wore around the house, to bed, and not so much when going out, it's the one I associate the most comfort with. It was cozy and cool, not breezy and light so much as it was a douse of wet but clean linen.
I don't remember many natural smells from this time. It was all new clothes, rank department store Paloma Picasso, powder foundation, the plastic and glossy booklet paper of new CDs. The one organic scent that stands out is the pungent, sulfur stink of overcooked collard greens. I remember them hitting me as soon as I walked in the door after school and crying out my offense like I was entering a sewer.
Someone gave me a set of Bonne Bell's Bottled Emotions. "Shy" was my favorite, or maybe "Mello" - a little vanilla-y with warm, calm spicey sweetness. I wore them accordingly and aspirationally. "Flirty" or "Playful" if I was going to see a boy I liked, "Crazy" if I was hanging out with the Aries friend, etc. (These are going for absurd prices on eBay now and I can't even find "Shy." Tragic.)
It's uncomfortable thinking about the reasons I wanted so badly to wear the Tommy Hilfiger brand. I don't remember any special love for the aesthetic and I'm pretty sure I've always thought the colors and logo were boring and generic, so it had to have been all about class for me. No more Social Security House in the Woods, no more boys saying I looked like a "hooker" because I wore black tights under ripped denim shorts, no more the neglected and unloved, unlovable whelp. I would be the clean (white), cared-for (rich), preppy (white), comfortable (white, rich), pretty (white, skinny) New Girl. This New Girl who wore Tommy Hilfiger smelled, of course, like the Tommy Hilfiger fragrance Tommy Girl.
I haven't smelled it in a while, but I think I'd still find Tommy Girl a nice scent. Fragrantica says the top notes are apple tree blossom, camelia, mandarin orange and black currant; middle notes are lemon, honeysuckle, grapefruit, rose, lily, mint and violet; base notes are magnolia, jasmine, cedar, sandalwood and leather. It's not a preppy, WASP-y smell, which is what I associate the brand with in retrospect. I remember it smelling fresh, youthful, not like any one particular thing in its notes — like the fragrance itself doesn't want to neglect any of the popular sweet scents of the time. The oranges and apples big at Bath and Body Works at the time are all represented. The prettiest and most classic flowers are all there.
The less racially-socioeconomically loaded scents from my adolescence were Bath and Body Works, and these seem to be the first run of products that made them a Thing. My grandmother, my sister and I all loved there lotions, so there were always bottles of Country Apple, Cotton Blossom, Sweet Pea, Cucumber Melon, and Freesia around. Cotton Blossom seems to be the one that I ended up using the most often, my I-don't-like-this-but-my-hands-are-dry go-to. I think because this is the scent I wore around the house, to bed, and not so much when going out, it's the one I associate the most comfort with. It was cozy and cool, not breezy and light so much as it was a douse of wet but clean linen.
I don't remember many natural smells from this time. It was all new clothes, rank department store Paloma Picasso, powder foundation, the plastic and glossy booklet paper of new CDs. The one organic scent that stands out is the pungent, sulfur stink of overcooked collard greens. I remember them hitting me as soon as I walked in the door after school and crying out my offense like I was entering a sewer.