The Smells of A Good Life

I read sometime ago that the sense of smell is the strongest trigger for memories. I have to agree. The smell of fresh grass is the obvious one. Takes you right back to childhood and all that. There is also the smell of dog crap melting in the spring permafrost which Canadians will know all too well. (Yes, I know permafrost does not melt, but the dog crap certainly does).

But the terrible thing is, there is a war.

A war on smells - fragrances to be more polite - in some places. The office where I used to work in Canada one day put up a sign that we were not allowed to come to work smelling of perfumes.

Odd that, because most soaps and deodorants, are perfumed. I guess what they want is people smelling of body odour instead. No doubt, one particularly sensitive soul lodged a complaint, and HR in their self-preservation, decreed NO MORE SCENTS.

It’s all so scentless. It makes no scents.

Having moved to Europe, the whole thing makes me laugh. Everyone seems to add some fragrance to themselves before leaving the house. You can go hiking or running, and the other runners will pass by, dragging behind them a vortex of olfactory delights.

I am pretty sure they pump flower fragrances into shopping centres too.

Apartment building hallways are a mesmerizing mix of cologne, perfume and roasted onions and peppers. These mix with the floral bouquets from the flower pots in every window. I can only imagine what the guy from the office would say. Maybe collapse in a fit of olfactory aggression.

I doubt it. I actually believe that the same person that prevented us from spritzing in the morning loves going to Europe. I will bet you that Karen loves the quaintness of European towns with the smells of oranges and light tobacco mixed with fresh coffee.

It is so very European, don’t you know.

They will spend thousands to get on a tour bus in Europe and be assaulted by all kinds of smells. Happily. Only to return and go full-Nazi on office cologne. Out with the senses, and in with the sterility.

Growing up in this part of Europe, I remember autumn very well. It was the time of mushroom picking, with the incredible smells of moss and fresh porcini. And it was the time for stuffed peppers, because that’s really when peppers are harvested.

The stuffed peppers, cooking in tomato sauce, produce the most sweet and comfy smells in the world. Entire towns and cities were covered in a virtual haze of the smell of heaven. Maybe even a literal haze. If there is a smell in heaven, I hope it is of warm stuffed peppers.

The Smell Test of the Good Life

I have devised several highly-scientific and empirical tests that determine, definitively, if you live in a decent place. If none of these tests pass, then you really need to consider your life decisions.

Why live in a place that is depriving one of your senses of what it was designed to do. To understand the world via your nose.

From experience, it is kind of an all or nothing test. They will either all smell nicely, or none will. One test will suffice.

On Vegetables

These should ALL smell stupidly good. This is a no-brainer: peppers, apples, mushrooms, onions, carrots (yes, they have a smell), tomatoes. Here is what a tomato should look like. You can smell it right off the screen.

The Croatian island of Rab has some of the best I have ever tasted.

On People

Everyone should have a fragrance. If you don’t have money, go to Eurospin (thank you Italia) and buy a fragrance for 5 EUR. They are all good. Spray it liberally every time you go out. Don’t worry, they fade quickly. Why not buy two different ones? Spray one on each side of your face. No one cares. Don’t give your split personalities a reason to argue. Spritz like Fritz.

Remember: Always err on the side of too much perfume. People will respect you more if you have a strong fragrance. More perfume - more respect.

This is probably historical. Maybe farmers never had enough money for perfume, and no one wanted to be seen like a farmer. It is what it is.

On Clothing

Right - as we now understand that it is never enough, when it comes to fragrances, make sure to buy fully-scented laundry detergents. Specifically Persil. The German brand.

This provides a nice base-note to everything else. All other smells in Europe build upon the foundation of Persil. Do not forget this most important truism.

There’s no need to look into the history of Persil. Probably it has something to do with the German, em, industrial expansion in the 40s. But hey, they would have needed a good detergent for those fab-looking uniforms. Hugo Boss would have nothing less, I’m sure.

In Public Areas

Look, Europeans like to talk and drink and smoke. This will not change, so be ready for it.

Here is where this whole sensual world comes together.

Imagine this - people put on their cleanest clothes with the Persil undertones, while applying several sprays of budget Italian perfume, to meet in a cafe next to a vegetable market, across from the bakery. The waiter brings strong espressos, while they light up their cigarettes. Pigeons pass overhead, having been frightened by the moped, whose sputtering engine adds more fuel to the smells.

Can you even imagine what this is doing to the central smell processor in the pre-frontal cortex? Or is the amygdala?

It doesn’t matter where - what matters is that this scene is lighting up the brain like white phosphorous. There is much buzzing and whirring of synapses firing, and memories being retrieved, and romantic feelings flying willy-nilly, aimlessly, all around the square. No one knows what’s going on. The waiter is having a cigarette and thinking about his first girlfriend. The pigeons disappear behind some bushes. Everyone is high on smell.

And this is first thing in the morning.

For the untrained nose, it is total war. It is merciless and persistent and unapologetic.

This is where it’s at. If you can handle this, if you can love this, then there is no going back.

How can you return to your sanitized cubicle that smells of vinyl carpet, old running shoes and reheated cardboard pizza?

You can’t. It is impossible.

And you shouldn’t.