Illustration by James Taylor / Harvard Gazette
Have you ever been out in public and smelled a scent that brought you back to a certain time in your life? Or remembered a specific person?
When I put on perfume, that is the goal that I set out to have—to be associated with a fragrance so intimately that one can’t help but remember me in public if they encounter it. I remember an anecdote my friend once recounted to me of her sleeping at a library and being woken up by smelling my perfume somewhere. She looked up and I wasn’t there, but she knew at one point that I was. Thus, for me, my perfume mediates my expression of self in how it becomes part of my identity—so much so that if I leave the house without putting it on, I’ll go back to just ensure that I have so I can rid myself of the sense of something missing. On the other hand, for my friend, my perfume mediates her perception and memory of me.
Another friend once texted me that they put on an old hoodie that I borrowed in high school and the scent of my perfume had still been left behind on its collar. At that point, we hadn’t spoken to each other in over a year, and I had changed what perfume I wore daily by then. How much more had changed between us, between how they see me, between how I saw them? Their memory of me was confined to that one instance.
We forget that objects have a history. They shape us in particular ways. We forget why or how they came to be. – Sherry Turkle
Dawn Goldworm, the co-founder of an “olfactive branding company” explains that smell is the most developed sense in a child up until the age of around 10 when sight takes over; thus, “smell and emotion are stored as one memory” in your childhood. (Walsh, 2020). We can liken this back to Marcel Proust’s evocative object (which Turkle (2007) put as “perhaps the most famous evocative object in all literature”): the madeleine. When dipped in tea, the madeleine brings Proust back to his youth, opening him to “the vast structure of recollection.”
This phenomenon, aptly named the Proust effect, is when strong, vivid, and emotionally-charged autobiographical memories are involuntarily triggered by smell and taste (Green et al., 2023). Scientifically, this is because the part of the brain that handle smells and odours have a direct connection the regions of the brain related to emotion and memory.
One role of theory here is to defamiliarize them. Theory enables us, for example, to explore how everyday objects become part of our inner life: how we use them to extend the reach of our sympathies by bringing the world within. — Sherry Turkle
If we look at scent through the lens of Proust and relate it back to Charles Sander Peirce’s Model of the Sign, we begin to see how scent emerges within a system of signification. In my case, my perfume becomes a signifier that represents me, the signified, through memory and scent-association. The interpretant is then capable of interpreting this meaning only if they have both encountered me and my perfume before. Scent becomes a means of language and communication in a way that is profoundly human: we understand it only in relation to and in terms of other things—and memory is formed through a social system of constantly remembering.
If we go even further, then scent and perfumery become a powerful and evocative form of media, in the way that mediation is a form of negotiation between the mediator, our olfactory senses, and what is being mediated, our memory. Yet, this medium is often untapped. When we think perfume, we think of an aroma that is pleasant, fragrant, and palatable to be used for everyday—but this limits and confines the form completely.
The infamous Secretions Magnifiques from Etat Libre d’Orange seeks to subvert this by creating a nauseating, eerie odour reminiscent of melting plastic, sweat, blood, semen, rot, and perversion. Would anyone wear this perfume? The average person would say no for fear of smelling repulsive, yet reviews on Fragrantica, an online database for perfume enthusiasts like Letterboxd is for film and Goodreads is for books, describe it as “deliciously offensive”, an “excellent conversation starter”, and “a work of art.” This specific perfume becomes a medium for evoking a feeling that is vile and primal to the extent of disgust. It transforms the idea of perfume from being one for daily use into an object to be consumed as an art form that inspires memory in a guttural sense.
Hence, if scent and perfumery are a medium of communication, then it is important to emphasize that, along with every other medium, it is also political and tied to institutions of power. Dr. Ally Louks’ thesis on olfactory ethics presents this argument through the intersectional study of olfactory oppression by establishing the underlying logics of how smell creates and subverts power structures through film and literature (2024). A poignant example she uses is how in Bong Joon Ho’s Parasite, the rich associate the poor with the smell of sewage. Let’s place this idea in the context of our everyday life: how often do we associate femininity with flora, masculinity with musk, wealth with cleanliness, ethnicities with the smell of their food? These associations have relevance in understanding what we know of the world.
Indeed, my perfume can evoke the memory of me, but only if you know me. Recognizing that rose is feminine but Axe body spray is masculine and Aesop incense is upper-class but Bath & Body Works’ A Thousand Wishes is middle-class and so on is a learned behaviour. Our ability to associate a fragrance with a memory is limited by what we understand from our own experiences—how we can put this unknown scent in relation to what we already know. That last part, what we already know, is key. Certain scents become analogous to certain concepts and ideologies, which calls into question our preconceived notions and biases about gender, class, sex, and race.
So I ask: what can conversations about the evocative power of scent teach us about how we see—no, smell—and thus perceive, the world?
References
Green, J.D., Reid, C. A., Kneuer, M. A., & Hedgebeth, M. V. (2023). The Proust effect: Scents, food, and nostalgia [Abstract]. Curr Opin Psychol, 50(101562). https://doi.org/10.1016/j.copsyc.2023.101562.
Louks, A. (2024). Olfactory ethics: The politics of smell in modern and contemporary prose [Doctoral dissertation, University of Cambridge]. Cambridge University. https://doi.org/10.17863/CAM.113239.
Secretions Magnifiques Etat Libre d’Orange. (n.d.). Fragrantica. Retrieved October 4, 2025, from https://www.fragrantica.com/perfume/Etat-Libre-d-Orange/Secretions-Magnifiques-4523.html.
Turkle, S. (2007). What makes an object evocative?. In S. Turkle (Ed.), Evocative objects: Things we think with (pp. 307-326). MIT Press. https://www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctt5hhg8p.39.
Walsh, C. (2020, February 27). What the nose knows: Experts discuss the science of smell and how scent, emotion, and memory are intertwined – and exploited. The Harvard Gazette. Retrieved October 4, 2025, from https://news.harvard.edu/gazette/story/2020/02/how-scent-emotion-and-memory-are-intertwined-and-exploited/.
This summer, I actually worked in a perfume store named after Proust, so this post already sounded so familiar to my heart! Scent is such an underappreciated sense, I am very glad to see people discuss it in detail as the means of mediation: your paragraph about the politics of smell was specifically very well-articulated.
I find perfume a unique way of self-expression, because the person wearing the perfume usually cannot smell it (at least, if it is good for you). A customer once even asked: what’s the point of putting it on if I can’t smell it throughout the day? What do you think about this one-way communication of perfume in terms of mediation?
I just loved your post! The way you outlined scent as both memory and communication struck so deep and personal with me. I definitely have been one to experience those moments where a smell instantly sends me back to someone or something else, and the story of your friend recognizing your perfume at the library totally did just that.
I also loved how you bridged this to Peirce’s semiotic model and Proust’s madeleine—it made me think that scent was its own language. The part on Parasite and the politics of smell was especially vivid; I didn’t know how scent can be a marker of gender or class.
Your post actually caused me to think about how much of ourselves we leave behind in terms of smell, and how other individuals might recall us based on something as fleeting as an odor.
Hi Xelena!
It’s funny you used perfume as an attribution to memory for this post. Just days ago, I switched back to a perfume I used when I was a first-year university student. I had just seen a friend I met in first-year that I have not connected with recently; I am now in my third year. The first thing she said to me after we hugged was, “you switched your perfume, I feel like I am back in first-year.”
Your theme of how the body/senses are a medium for memory is prevalent here, however I noted another cool connection which would be memory and time. The Time & Space chapter in Critical Terms for Media Studies establishes memory as a medium of demonstration for a “new now”. The chapter states that memory is bringing past experiences to the current moment, this is a small example of how time is malleable. Perfume highlights how memory can essentially transport one to a different time via memory.
Another insight of yours I found completely fascinating, was the institutional involvement of how we perceive the world through smells. How Axe Body Spray is masculine, while Chanel No. 5 is feminine. I think this ties in with our chapter about law, and the concept of juridification. Law is all encompassing in our daily lives, there is not a sector of our lives where law is not present. I find the same phenomenon happening with corporations setting societal norms through marketing.
Lastly ,I wanted to note the creation of a semiotic system that is created around perfume. You stated that perfume can provoke a memory of you, but only if one knows you. I find this an interesting example of semiotics, because people can only understand this symbol of yourself if they know the context of you. People can only understand a semiotic system if they know the context of which explain the symbols and language.
Super interesting and vast dynamics one can explore through your post! It is so interesting how many connections I made to our class in this one comment! I am super interested in the institutional puppet strings that have trained our brains to associate scents with societal norms, I was wondering if you could elaborate on that!
Great post!
Hi Xelena,
It would be remiss of me to not acknowledge the genius of this title firstly. But overall, I really enjoyed this post because you focused on a specific sense and how it almost acts like an extension of your identity. Learning about the Proust effect was also pretty eye-opening. I remember texting a friend of mine just last week, telling them that it smelled like 2016 for a brief moment when i smelled a bag of Taki’s. Good to know there’s a name for that! Sometimes scent assumes its own identity and thus has taken part in somehow shaping your own life.
I also think scent has the power to form connections and form a bridge to get to know other people through their own anecdotal stories, like this post does. I’m no stranger to asking which perfume someone’s wearing.
Genius title, love it. I immediately connected with your piece from your introduction. I love smelling things. I read the attached link on Secretions Magnifiques from Etat Libre d’Orange and the reviews are so divided. My favourite “pro” from the reviews: “Perfect fragrance for necromancers and/or roadkill fine dining events”. I’m genuinely so intrigued and curious to smell this.
Hi Xelena! I found your post really educational, namely: the Proust effect. I had always had experiences with this kind of recognition, (for example, one whiff of ‘clean laundry’ scented detergent and I’m back at my grandma’s house) so it’s nice to have a name to associate with the phenomenon!
Despite not being a huge fan of perfume (a lot of them give me a headache), the scents that my mum and sister wear still comfort me. I feel like this ties into your discussion of scent as an agent of memory and emotion. It’s odd to me that so many people experience emotions that are tied to smells yet it remains low on the chart of senses we prioritize. Smell can act as a precursor to things we may not be able to see or hear and yet it is only really noticed when something is particularly good or bad.
To answer your final question: I believe our general ignorance of our sense of smell limits us. We are subconsciously ignoring a whole datapool that is offered to us and we often make no strides to appreciate it until it is gone (and I think many of us have rued this ingratitude the second our noses get stuffed).
The moment I read the title, I was hooked because I enjoy testing out perfumes. The opening paragraph is very relatable; scents definitely affect how I view certain people. This relates back to our evoked object assignment and signifier conversion in class. The moment we become connected to something like perfume, it becomes part of our identity, and it’s hard to separate the two. Spraying perfume after getting ready and before going out just makes me feel better. Certain scents evoke memories of specific moments. For instance, if I smell a sticky perfume, it reminds me of Love Island season 6 because that’s when it became popular lol.
I enjoyed the quote you incorporated by Dawn Goldworm. It’s very relatable to help strengthen your argument. You mentioned that ‘’perfumery is a medium of communication’’ which I thought was interesting because I never heard of that before. But I think this ties back again to our conversation about Signifiers and Meaning. The power that these objects automatically hold and become such impactful parts of our lives.
Hi Xelena！I really enjoyed this post! The way you connected scent with memory and identity was so relatable—I’ve definitely had moments where a smell instantly brings someone back to mind. The example from Parasite about the politics of smell was super interesting too. I never thought about how scent can reflect power and class before. Such a thoughtful and unique take!
Hi Xelena! This was so interesting to read, and the title itself was really intriguing! I appreciate how concisely you explained theories and concepts you mentioned throughout your paper, and it was very easy to follow! I find it really interesting how scent to you has afforded self-expression, and how it represents something else to those consuming or being in the presence of your perfume. I read Gina’s post on her evocative object before this, and it’s cool to see how scent has corresponded to different things for you guys, and how scented air and scented liquids can afford self-expression in vastly different ways. It was also interesting to read about how scent has led to numerous associations over time, both in real life and as depicted in the media.
To answer your question, I definitely agree that scent is a powerful sense in that a lot of times, our association with a certain scent to class, race, or gender has been systematically ingrained in our thinking and behaviour. I even remember commenting on Kim Chi’s post on how the smell that emanates from my lunch box (and the baon inside it) would usually evoke a disgusted reaction to my Western friends who had never tried adobo or tortang talong before. I would have never explicitly put two and two together about how these stereotypes have been placed also through our sense of smell, so I greatly appreciate that you touched on this in your blog post! Amazing work!