Have you ever had that feeling when you can’t remember what something looks like — its shape, its color, even its name — but if you ever see it again, you’ll know immediately that yes, that’s it? Like a melody you can’t hum and don’t know where it came from, but the moment it starts playing somewhere in the background, you recognize it within seconds.
A long time ago I had a perfume. Probably ten years ago, maybe more. I didn’t remember the name, what the bottle looked like, or even how it smelled. But I knew for sure that I loved it. Loved it enough that sometimes, completely out of nowhere, it would just surface in my mind, and every time I’d think — damn, it’s such a pity I don’t remember what that perfume was. The only tiny clue left in my memory was a vague image of a red bottle. Over the years, I honestly gave a chance to every red bottle I ever came across.
And then one day, during a random trip to Winners, I was walking past the fragrance section when my eye caught on one particular box. I googled the name right there and saw that exact bottle. Next thing I knew I was already opening the package, not even leaving the checkout area, spraying it on myself and… The feeling was strange. It was hard to separate the joy of the scent itself from the joy of actually having found it at all. It felt like thinking you missed your train — and then finding out it was delayed.
This perfume is one of those I can actually feel on myself throughout the day. It doesn’t disappear after a few minutes. I can forget about it, and then suddenly catch the scent on myself again — and every single time it brings an aesthetic frisson.
Honestly, I don’t know whether it was really that good back then, or whether memory just made it special. But the fact is, I “lost” it — and then by pure chance found it again. And it’s still one of the most pleasant accidents I’ve had in recent years.
Amor Amor
Cacharel
