Orange Blossom Girl

I have a slight obsession with smell. Not in a weird way (well I don't think so anyway). I remember at school having to write a piece about favourite smells and while most of my friends moaned and groaned about it I was secretly happy as anything. I could have gone on for pages and I can still remember what I wrote 9i won't bore you).

Recently an invite popped up on Facebook for 5 favourite smells and I of course faithfully filled it in. I thought later that perhaps my friends wouldn't be quite as rivetted by this information as I am but it was too late (apologies everyone).

Smells to me you see, are memories.They conjour back times past, sometimes good, sometimes bad.

Someone queried my choice of tomatoes as a favourite smell on my FB list and I duly explained why it had been selected.

The smell reminds me of my Uncle Arthur (not an Uncle by blood and before the Peter Kay fans amongst you ask, no he didn't once lend my dad an orbital sander). Uncle Arthur taught me how to plant tomatoes and tomato plants smell lovely.

Every year I plant tomato plants and I think of Uncle Arthur and sunshine and greenhouses and Uncle Charles (his brother, they lived together, sadly never married so sort of liked having me about).

After tomato planting we would always have tea in proper china cups (a big deal for a very little girl) being trusted with proper china cups with pink flowers and gold leaf on the handles and saucers and everything. Then of course there was shortbread, because that was Uncle Charles' favourite biscuit in the whole world.

So that's why I always have and always will love the smell of tomatoes, it's not an affectation, it's a memory. A lovely warm and cuddly one. Don't worry I won't go through them all but you can look them up if you really want to and if you want the backstory, well just ask.

Somebody asked me once what my signature scent was, every woman should have one apparently , a fact which had escaped me for most of my life.

Just one? , oh dear I will admit to being a perfume junkie with a rather vast array of fragrances (it was sort of approaching 50 when I did a recent consolidation - oops).Ranging from Chanel (No5, Crystal and Coco, oh yes and Chance) to the cheap and cheerful Lime , Vetiver and Mandarin (from Sainsburys actually and delicious).

But an actual signature scent?, er no. But perhaps she was right so the quest began, a while ago, (I'm not an especially decisive person- unless I'm being paid to be of course).

Then I remembered, the perfect place discovered a few years ago the world of Jo Malone, in the sparkly new Harvey Nichols (yes I know it's an utter betrayal of my roots etc) but it sort of amused me, being scruffy little me, wandering about amongst the footballers wife types.

Oh yes Jo Malone, truly lovely, a haven of wafty gorgeousness. Over the years I have experimented with sprays of every fragrance stocked. Heaven.

Two main fragrances always grabbed me. Orange Blossom being the first, Vintage Gardenia the second. There was an unexpected late entry Grapefruit which against all the odds I love. (I actually hate the taste of grapefruit passionately, its horrid and bitter and it stings your tongue, yuck.

Not in the running for a scent for me, not the real me, perfect for the world of work though to which it will be consigned).

Recently I was forced to make a final decision, with birthday and Christmas looming. So I did.

Orange Blossom. I guess the title of the post is kind of a giveaway.

The reason I loved orange blossom? Again its the memories it holds.

I love oranges, they're very happy fruits don't you think? They're round of course , a very pleasing shape I find and a bit squidgy and juicy. The colour orange always makes me smile too its a so what I'm loud and proud and no one is going to get me down sort of colour.

I recall orange lollies, all juicy and drip down your chinny, sundresses and daisychains and sticking out orange tongues. Then later came Sun lollies, the curiously pyramid shaped ones with no stick, revolutionary in their time a little bit daring and therefore very me.

I'll always remember eating oranges with my friend Sue, she always had oranges. She liked them lots and shared them with me, sitting on the window sill at school, long navy blue socked legs dangling over the radiators.

Sometimes we'd sit in the cloakrooms and eat oranges, those were the hiding away from the nasty girls days.Sometimes we'd sit on the grass outside under the tree at the edge of the playing field in the sun or sometimes even in the rain.

Sue liked oranges and in the start I liked oranges because she liked oranges. In the end though I liked oranges too. Very much.

I miss her, I've missed her for nearly twenty years now. I still think about her when I eat an orange and remember her smiling in the sun.

In Mallorca one of my most favourite Islands in the world unexpectedly I went to Soller on the rickety train which sort of just about clings to the side of the mountains. I remember the orange groves because Soller is the home of the loveliest of spanish oranges and the smell of them everywhere, drinking the freshest juice in the world sitting in the square. One day I want to live there, me and my scruffy dog (though she's not much on sun and she gets smellier when sweaty) with a garden full of orange trees (maybe a few lemons too , oh yes and some olives). What can I say , got to have a dream. I think Sue would have liked Soller too. I wish she'd been there to.

For me then oranges hold fond memories of special people and sunny days, so in the end the decision was easy. So Orange Blossom it was. It was still a surprise though, that it arrived on my birthday , nestling in its lovely creamy box with its big black bow, orangey loveliness from the second you open the bag (they spray that too).

So, here I am, in my happy orange blossom haze, dreaming of sunshine and smiles, the perfect signature scent for me I think.