What's in Your Sniffsonium?

Matt's illustration of the Sniffsonium. I sure do love having an in-house artist.

The "Sniffsonium" is a term coined by hubby Matt and we all have one. It is that internal sanctum where we store our memories and emotions related to certain smells and scents that we've experienced in our lives, proabably from day one. Matt also calls it a Smellatorium, however that sounds like the place where not-so-pleasurable smells go to be cremated and entombed. Although, that could serve a purpose too.

There's nothing like the sense of smell to send our memory reeling back years and years to a specific moment in time. A familiar scent can evoke the person, the place and the feelings associated with that one scent. And it happens in a split-second. With a direct link from our olfactory receptors ("vacuum" as depicted above) to the limbic system, our reactions to smells occur in an instant. And as the limbic system is the part of the brain that deals with emotions, memories are conjured like a genie out of a bottle, literally in the case of perfume.

The sense of smell is so important to me and it's one of my life's great pleasures. It's fun to be taken by surprise by a scent and experience a memory unbidden. But it's also wonderful to know that I can make the memory happen by using a particular perfume or lotion. And it's startling when that doesn't. When I've had a cold and head congestion and I can't smell, I experience a momentary panic. It's like someone suddenly turned the lights out.

As I examine my Sniffsonium, these are the scents that come to mind:

Estee Lauder Youth Dew: This powdery, exotic scent is the smell of dressing up to go out. It was the signature scent of my grandmother and all six of her sisters. They each had the little faceted bottle filled with the brown-as-bourbon elixir on their dressers. With a whiff of Youth Dew, I'm instantly sitting between my grandmother, Bootsie, and Aunt Myrt in the backseat of Aunt Dot's Cadillac going out to a fancy lunch in New Orleans.

Jergen's Original Scent Cherry-Almond Hand Lotion: This is a comforting smell for me. The sweet, slightly candy scent of this brings back similar memories as above. All my aunties used it and a bottle of it was always sitting on the bathroom counter. I can rub a little on my hands today and feel my aunties near me.

Old Spice: The scent of my gravel-voiced but sweet-mannered Uncle Irvin.

4711 Cologne: The dry citrusy scent used by my grandfather. The one and only scent he ever wore.

Hawaiian Tropic Suntan oil: The smell of summer (and sun damage!)

Guerlain's Shalimar: I was eighteen when I smelled Shalimar for the first time and it was a revelation. I learned that scent can open a new sexy and exotic world.

New Orleans French Quarter: There is a damp, old wood, crumbling brick, spilt beer, bourbon splashed root-like musty smell that doesn't exist any other place.

Petrichor: It was such a pleasure when I  learned there was actually a name for the smell of the air right after it begins to rain. I remember playing outside in the hot Louisiana summer afternoons and suddenly it would begin to rain. The dusty asphalt street was so hot, steam would rise sending up a sweet and earthy smell.

And there are so many more...

So, I would love to know, what's in your Sniffsonium?

Man Ray vs. Brad Pitt

I'm sure that by now, you've seen the newest ad campaign for Chanel No. 5 featuring Brad Pitt. It premiered about a month ago and parodies have been rife. If you haven't seen, or would like to see it again,  take a look at the thirty-second spot, I'd love to know what you think. My initial reaction was "This is odd, really odd." And then I tried to be open-minded to the "new creative." The point of advertising is to get your attention and having a man tout a woman's perfume is different, and having that man be Brad Pitt definitely gets attention. But I'm sticking with my original impression; the campaign is not compelling and it's confusing. Several people I spoke with thought Chanel was introducing a new men's fragrance. 

Instead of sexy, Brad looks squirmy and uncomfortable, one dimensional. He's more listless than passionate. The ad is black and white, with an overall grungy gray feel. Brad is standing in the corner of a gray room wearing a wrinkled shirt with the tail hanging out and his hands defensively in his pockets. So instead of me feeling intrigued, captivated and drawn in to the world of Chanel No. 5, I feel distanced. And I'm an easy mark. For the last thirty years I've always had a bottle or two of Chanel perfume, and I still get giddy over a new one.

I can imagine the ad agency was told to attract a younger audience, that Chanel No. 5 is no longer your grandmother's perfume. That's the problem with a classic: it's wonderful to be so recognizable and the Chanel No. 5 scent, bottle and name comprises one of the most iconic brands in the world. But how do you market to a new audience without compromising what makes it great? How do you stay true to the brand but tell the story in a new way? Millions and billions are spent consulting with brand experts to answer this question. But at minimum, you keep it interesting. Looking up, down, left and right, Brad delivers this soliloquy:

"It's not a journey. Every journey ends, be we go on. The world turns and we turn with it. Plans disappear and dreams take over. But wherever I go, there you are, my luck, my fate, my fortune. Chanel No. 5. Inevitable." 

Ho hum. Brad, is that a cliche in your pocket or are you just bored to see me?

A L'Heure de l'observatoire: Les amoureaux, painting by Man Ray, 1932-1934

About the same time that this campaign premiered, Matt and I went to the Legion of Honor to the Man Ray | Lee Miller: Partners in Surrealism exhibit. Now there's a story of modern passion, romance, glamour, artfulness and rich, fascinating lives, all the qualities I associate with Chanel No. 5.  Man Ray was a chick magnet. The more I read about him, the more girlfriends I discover he had, from Paris to Los Angeles. And they all seemed to happily pose nude for his camera or paintbrush. Lee Miller was his love from 1929 to 1932 when they lived together in Paris. She left him and he was devastated. Man Ray did the above painting of Lee Miller's lips and wrote these words, wrought with passion:

"It is seven o'clock in the morning, before the hunger of the imagination is satisfied. The sun has not yet decided to rise or set -- but your mouth comes. It becomes two bodies separated by a horizon, slim, undulating, like the earth and the sky, like you and me and so like all microscopic objects, invisible to the eye. Lips of the sun, you draw me endlessly nearer, and in this instant before awakening, when I cast loose from my body -- I am weightless -- I meet you in the even light and empty space, and, my only reality, kiss you with all that is left of me: my own lips."

I read those words in a crowded museum on a Sunday afternoon and Man Ray's love and longing swept me up and carried me away to a world of romance. If you're going to use a man to sell perfume, give me one that leaves me wanting more! In this instance, a dead Man Ray has more life than a live Brad Pitt.