When I was in sixth grade I had a Kodak Brownie Fiesta camera. In addition to the joy of taking photographs with the camera, I got a special kick out of the smell of used flashbulbs. A sort of spicy, burnt smell that I really enjoyed.
Fast forward to recent times when we picked up some Bath & Body Works Deep Cleansing Hand Soap scented with Kitchen Herb.
Damn if the scent of this hand soap wasn't identical to the smell of spent flash bulbs from my Brownie Fiesta camera! How does this happen?
Fast forward to recent times when we picked up some Bath & Body Works Deep Cleansing Hand Soap scented with Kitchen Herb.
Damn if the scent of this hand soap wasn't identical to the smell of spent flash bulbs from my Brownie Fiesta camera! How does this happen?
- Current Mood:amazed
Comments
What's so amazing to me is how odors always evoke the most emotionally intense memories for me. After that, I find that music has the greatest emotional impact (you know, that song from a date that just makes you weak-kneed with nostalgia and misery...). But more than anything else, a smell that I can't even name or identify can suddenly take me back years and make me think I'm somewhere else entirely.
Odd, isn't it?
This is a topic that has long fascinated me. Whereas olfaction is usually ignored in most introductory psychology courses, I spend a full class on the topic.
Uh-oh!