Smells Like Nostalgia
Words by Kelsie Fitzgerald
“…Well, whatever the reason, I’m not sure why, this smell makes me feel like home or something; I find it very comforting”
An excerpt from a conversation I’ve had with various people throughout my life and the usual response is either a “that’s fucking weird” or “OMG ME TOO.” Now, it sounds innocuous enough. How could this cause such a divide amongst those I’ve spoken to? Well, the subject matter is about smells, and more specifically our associations with different smells we come across in our lives. From the people I have spoken to about this there are some people, like myself, who feel this very strongly and have smells which remind them of places, people, even a specific time in their lives. On the other hand, there were those who thought this was a bit strange to be honest and didn’t spend their time smelling things, and that’s okay too.
Now you may be thinking, Kelsie, what the feck does smell have to do with nostalgia? Well I’m going to do my best to dive into it, without making this a college level essay. Nostalgia is one of my favourite things as a hoarder of sentimental things that remind me of people, places, or even certain moments of my life. According to Alan R. Hersch “nostalgia may be considered a yearning to return home to the past -- more than this, it is a yearning for an idealized past” and I’m sure most people could agree. For the most part nostalgia is akin to getting a hug, to remember something from your past in a fond manner. Psychiatrists mention that yearning for an idealised past is more a ‘screen memory’, one in which multiple memories come together and the brain filters out the bad bits, essentially an idealised memory of the past. Going along with Hersch here “nostalgia, unlike screen memory, does not relate to a specific memory, but rather to an emotional state”.
My understanding from this is that nostalgia is an attempt at reliving times of pleasant emotional states. Often, these idealised emotional states are attached to our senses and even inanimate objects, which are associated with these emotions. Now the psychology of odours and their associations within the brain is nothing new and has been mentioned as early on as Freud. Using basic anatomy we can see that the nose basically connects to the frontal part of the brain through the limbic system. Essentially, I’m saying that the evidence is out there. You can do your own research if you’re as fascinated as I am. With the science-y bit over, it’s time to talk about the good, the bad and the weird of smell nostalgia, or as I’m now calling it - ‘smell-o-vision’. If you’ve ever seen That’s So Raven (great show btw), when Raven has a vision, it’s very distinctive. That’s how I feel when I smell something and suddenly, I’m physically present but spiritually and mentally I’ve left my body and I’m somewhere else entirely.
For the most part my affinity to smells is a good thing and often brings me comfort and happy memories. One of my favourite smells in the whole world is the smell of creosote, which for the uneducated is a now banned preservative used on wooden electricity poles. This smell is so ingrained into my being that I can smell it like a sniffer dog sniffs out cocaine in an airport. Much like the smell of petrol, this odour is opinion dividing if you’ve ever smelt it, but for me it reminds me of my dad. Pauly, my dad, works in the ESB and for my formative years he was a linesman, a dangerous job, especially for my young mind at the time. While for most creosote has an overwhelming chemical smell, in my house it meant it was around 5pm and dad was coming in the door. It meant hugs and comfort - that he was safe and back to us.
To look at another comforting odour association I think of wild garlic, such a distinct smell often found throughout the countryside by the ocean. Quite a savoury smell to say the least, it can be overpowering but for me it unlocks summers spent in my nana’s bungalow in Graball Bay, Crosshaven. Making our way from the make-shift parking area to her bungalow and walking the fields with her visiting friends and hearing all the old stories. When I smell wild garlic, it simply reminds me of her and Crosshaven, having a 7-up in Cronin’s pub before spending the evening at the merries.
While certain odours can bring forward wholesome and fond memories the same can be said for the not so good ones, of course for the sake of this light article I won’t mention unpleasant things, it’s meant to be fun after all. However, there’s nothing like the smell of sambuca to bring me right back to my debs’ night and leave me feeling the same level of shame and regret as I did the day after, even now seven years later. If by chance you’re reading this and were at my debs and spoke to me... No, you didn’t. Another smell that has been tainted for me is Jack and Coke, which brings me back to a period where I was drinking in local watering hole the Bróg a lot and reminds me of a rather lengthy period of a bad mental state.
This one isn't a particularly traumatic memory, moreso it’s a very specific smell which has stayed with me. It’s a very particular smell – a faint mix of leftover cleaning products and the ingrained smell of fried onion and garlic, permanently exuding from all surfaces – add a dash of 30 or so sweaty teenagers and you have the smell of my old home-economics classroom.
I am well beyond my school years now, in fact I haven’t stepped foot in that Home-Ec room since I was 15 years old and doing my Junior Cert, yet I can still visualise that smell clear as day and be transported back to being a spotty, smelly teenager, who admittedly forgot about getting her cooking ingredients until the night before.
Disclaimer: that classroom wasn’t life changing or special nor was it the happiest place of my life, but there is a reason that whenever I encounter this mix of smells that my brain cells go into panic mode about forgotten ingredients. It all comes down to relatively simple science.
Perhaps one of the more interesting categories of odour nostalgia are the straight up weird ones which catch you off guard. Consistently if I smell a particular men’s aftershave it brings me back to maths class and after school study, where one of the boys I had a crush on wore it to school every day. One of the oddest times I’ve experienced a proper vision-like state after a smell was only recently; an event which prompted me to write this article. I was simply walking through one of the school’s corridors where I work and I was overcome with a disinfectant smell. I had not smelled this since I was approximately 11 years of age. But smell it I did, and suddenly I found myself in Salt Hill, Galway. How bizarre that one simple odour could transport me back to a mobile home I stayed in once when I was on a holiday with my family.
This may be a ramble of my thoughts, but I think it’s fair to acknowledge the importance smell can have on us, while we often hear about sight or sounds smell can often be overlooked when in fact it can have a very strong psychological impact on us. Much like most things in the world, companies and advertisers use our sense of smell to entice us to buy their products – think along the lines of gendered smells, especially shower gels. If you’re a woman you simply must smell like a sweet, delicate lavender flower but if you’re a man, there will be no flowers for you, for you must protect your musk. If you have read this article in its entirety, I hope it’s got you thinking about smells which have shaped your life and the people, places, or moments which you associate them with - whether they be good, bad, or even weird like my own.
If you would like to learn more about nostalgia based consumerism through the sense of smell you can read this paper by Alan R. Hirsch, mentioned above.
