I’m sure I’m not alone in hankering after that ever-so-allusive signature scent.

You know, ‘the one’. A perfume that suits your every mood, always hitting the desired olfactory spot. It would deservedly accompany you on every adventure life throws at you. It is a scent that would become so entwined with your persona that it is difficult to distinguish where the fragrance finishes and you begin.

The problem is, I’m a bit of a ‘perfume whore’. A fickle creature that flirts with a scent for a while before moving on to something else.

Perhaps I could learn something from the first guest post to be featured as part of The Scent Series. Helen {a rather fabulous bride-to-be and fellow academic} came to fragrance a little later in life but, having found her signature scent, has remained faithfully devoted ever since…


I have inherited an acutely sensitive head from both my Mum and Dad. Cloying headaches, sickness-inducing stuff. As a result the scent memories which are most evocative for me are household, everyday smells from my childhood. The aroma of garlic and onions from my Mum’s numerous curries, the scent of her Avon lipstick. The way my Dad’s uniform smelt when I gave him a cuddle at the end of the day. So for me to try and find a perfume was always going to be a bit difficult.

Teenage trips to town were a nightmare of hoping to get out of Boots or the Body Shop as quickly as possible and then spending return bus journeys to the village trying to conquer the nausea from sitting next to my best friends who had invariably doused themselves in random samples. School discos may have allowed the tiniest squirt of Impulse body spray (there was a fairly light and fruity one called O2?) but even that contained some sort of base note which distracted me and my poor head and I would end up trying to wash it off in the toilets.

I was resigned to being perfume-less which was OK for a while but I had a nagging feeling as I grew up that having a signature scent was an elegant ‘adult’ thing to do. I wanted this! I made friends who smelt truly wonderful and yet as soon as I sniffed their bottle or tried a sample for myself, it was too much.

Then, in the summer of 2007 I was sent to the US on a business trip. On my first day in New York I arrived way too early for my appointment at the public library, so decided to kill time at the Sephora on 5th Avenue. No perfume hell entrance here! It may have been the intense air conditioning, but I found myself in the fragrance section at the back and didn’t have the urge to run.

The philosophy stand enticed me with simple packaging and beautiful words. Next thing I knew I was squirting a sample stick with Amazing Grace and feeling slightly panicked. A sure-fire recipe for headache and disaster. But for once my stomach didn’t churn, nor did my head pound when I smelt the delicate perfume.

Despite rising excitement (finally! a perfume!) I remained cautious. I promised myself that if I could stand the smell after my meeting, I should return and buy it. And I could. So I did.

At the age of 25, I found my scent.

Helen ready to hit Broadway, having just purchased what would become her signature scent.

In the lightest possible way, the scent is empowering. But I’m pretty sure this is to do with the time and place in which I bought it, rather than the ingredients. It represents a heady mix of independence, apprehension, excitement and elegance for me. It became part of my daily armour for pretending I knew what I was doing (see also: lipstick, suits, heels). It reminds me of suitcases, hotel bathrooms, feeling both wildly liberated and way out of my depth. But it has now become part of my everyday.

For my wedding next year, I too would like to create a new scent memory. I’m not going to stray far from my comfort zone – Philosophy have a few other perfumes and I’m keen to give them an experimental ‘sniff’ in the run up to the big day. It may be quite a hunt – although most products are available online, I’ve yet to find anywhere that stocks a comprehensive Philosophy range over here. But my current scent will take some beating. After all, when it comes down to what I want to smell of (and to quote the Philosophy packaging verbatim!) it all comes down to one word. Grace.

I really enjoyed reading this, thank you so much for sharing your perfume tale, Helen!

I have to admit, I’m not very familiar with the Philosophy range as it isn’t stocked anywhere local to me, but I’m certainly very keen to have a ‘sniff’ now!

Philosophy describe Amazing Grace as a floral fragrance…

Top notes: mandarin, grapefruit and bergamot
Middle notes: freesia, jasmine and rose
Base note: musk

Reading about Helen’s devotion to this scent has really made me wonder about ‘the one’. If you could only wear one scent, what would it be? A tough question, no?

Loveaudrey xxx

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