Small Moments of Scent: January
Ditch the resolutions and seek out these 3 things to smell instead
'New Year, New You!' is the sentiment I would shout every January in my previous life as a fashion editor, asking the readers, 'What are you going change about yourself?' Like a bullet, hurtling towards the next, the new, anything but this. And those words didn't just pay the rent, they were my belief system.
And then last January something snapped and I didn’t want to propel forward, I started thinking more about stopping time, and in a bid to do that, I dialed down everything that clouded my days. It wasn’t easy, I had to cut out some people entirely (I am a Scorpio, sorry!) which made room for a precious friend that I hadn't seen for years to come back into my life. I used an auto-timed scheduler to post my Apotheke perfume on Instagram, so I didn't have to have it on my phone, which made headspace for this newsletter.
I stopped making plans and felt confident in saying 'no' if social offers didn't quite work for me. I started cycling to rivers or lidos to swim and read and got obsessively into growing vegetables (for fun!). I’ve always thought I was an extrovert (someone who gets energy from being around people), but in fact, solitude felt so much more refreshing. I stopped eating things other people wanted me to eat. I just said, ‘No thank you’. I could see my life from above, like a series of linear stories all running at the same time, and I could control them.
I abstained from extreme work pivots (which is hard to do when you have a small business in a recession), and I cut down on the numbing stuff like watching TV, and mindless alcoholic drinks, often I didn’t want them, or watching TV at all, I just didn’t know what I wanted. I stopped making money for no other reason than generating it. If it wasn’t going on what I wanted, I wasn’t going to make it. I sat with the boredom, which wasn't as bad as I feared it might be. I started saying ‘I don’t want that, I don’t want to do that’, and when people chose not to hear me, I said it again.
Once I started streamlining, it felt so good that I wondered how I had fitted it all in. How did I drink, travel, talk, scroll, watch, shop, share, work, and serve other people's needs as much as I had before?
And now, in a naturally gentle moment of the calendar, having pared so much back already, I have shored up in a foreign land that's even quieter and still, and I am trying hard to hold on to the edges for a little while and see what happens.
If you’re a 'type A' personality, or a woman born in the '80s, or just a woman at all, it can seem hard to resist pushing towards the next, the new, and can feel like the ultimate rebellion to just duck down in the trenches of the moment and simply exist for a while.
Last week when my nine-year-old said the girls in her class got Drunk Elephant products for Christmas, and did she need to get some? (Anti-aging skincare that costs 50+ quid) I wanted to die. It took me until I was 38 to realize my life was not a performance for others, couldn’t she just have a tiny bit more childhood before she had to start navigating this? Maybe I could move her to an isolated island, far from the conditioning that her value is equal to the effort she exerts on the maintenance of her youth and beauty. (Especially while she’s young enough to avoid brushing her teeth.) When I came to terms with the fact that the island move was not an option, I thought I should lead by example and show her that women don't always need to optimise, and start by not making a list of New Year’s resolutions. Instead, I made a different kind of list: a list of things to smell this month (or next month, if that's when I get around to it.)
I am going to get through January with no plans, no big ambitions, and just sit in the cave of winter, listening to the river that has burst its banks outside my window, stop time by seeking out some everyday things to smell, and chat to my daughters about everything except the importance of self-optimisation and anti-aging skincare.
If you want to stop time too, here are three of my favourite everyday things to seek in January that will help you be in the moment.
Tea
Not dusty, papery teabags thrown into scolding water and downed in front of a screen, but pretty loose tea, that you can spend the good part of a Saturday seeking out in a specialty store.
I've stocked up on camomile this month because the balls of honey-scented blossoms remind me that spring will come again. I also refreshed my Earl Grey jar with lavender. The bergamot is bright and acidic and speaks of the Calabrian sun under which it grew, and the lavender is nostalgic and clean, they make a perfect pair. If you don't already drink loose tea, that’s your brief for the weekend. Start with camomile, or an Earl Grey, or if you prefer something sweet go for vanilla chai. The experience starts with your nose. I dare you to stick your whole face into the jar and inhale for a blast of joy on a January day.
Herbs
If you cook, now is the time to break up some bay, or rosemary and add it to a sauce. Summer is stored all year round in their oily evergreen leaves and stalks.
If you live in the country (lucky you) go on a walk and identify the bushes of bay, rosemary, thyme, and sage you can whip a few stalks from. Fill your pockets and return home like a pilgrim laden with treasures. If you live in a city, (lucky you, too) you'll have access to one of those international grocery stores that sell fat bundles of fresh mint, basil, and dill. Replace the lettuce or rocket in all your salads with handfuls of fragrant chopped mint and basil for the rest of January.
Citrus fruit
Not that I have anything against the humble jaffa, but this morning I asked my fruit and veg guy for a blood orange - I just wanted to sit with the superior scent and see the jeweled tones in the winter sun. They remind me of Campari cocktails in high summer and a really good salad I had once, made with the ruby red pith, thinly sliced fennel, and pomegranate. He said they’re hard to get this year, I'll keep looking.
If I can’t get one, I might go for the sharp, champagne note of a pink grapefruit. I love the essential oil as a sparkly top note when blending a natural perfume, but the actual fruit depresses me, something to do with crash diets and being a teen in the ‘90s, perhaps I need to start drinking Paloma cocktails to rewire some deep distrust I have for grapefruits as a whole. I like to buy citrus fruit like others buy flowers, just to look at and smell, and prop in the middle of the table in some pretty glassware, adding intrigue to a gloomy room.
If you do come across a bergamot, don’t hesitate to buy it. They’re easier to find for those who live near artisanal food stores or are travelling to Italy. The knobbly, gnarly-looking fruit is visually somewhere between a lime and an orange, they’re not as pretty as an unwaxed Sicilian lemon, but incomparable when it comes to smell and taste. Olfactory-wise is one of the most prized top notes in the perfume world for its dry, smokey, sultry citrus touch. (It's the one in Earl Grey and our perfume The Thinker). Cut it up and add it to a jug of iced water for the most decadent H2O you'll ever drink, or to gin and tonic if you’re feeling fancy.
Whatever citrus you meditate on this January, run your fingernail along its skin to release the essential oil, breathe in, and watch its gentle spritz in the low-lying winter sun. When people ask me in workshops, 'What is an essential oil?' I always mention this small act. It's as easy as that to release the oil and experience the plant's 'essence'.
I hope you feel inspired to rip up the to-do list and plan one of these perfumed pilgrimages for your weekend instead, because to smell is to breathe, and to breathe is to meditate. And in a world where everything needs to have a point, to stop and just consider the notes of something for a moment is an act of rebellion.
Happy New Year everyone. x