THE SCIENCE OF SCENT

We’ve used scent to soothe and offer respite for aeons. In the Neolithic period, fragrant ointments were used to cure a variety of maladies, while aromatherapy is so-called for its ability to offer solace in a moment of discord. Lavender-infused smelling salts were the go-to Victorian remedy for the plant’s ability to reduce a soaring heart rate and placate levels of the stress hormone cortisol. Studies also show that frankincense, which was traditionally burnt in homes to bring about good health, is proven to soothe the respiratory tract, slowing our breathing and evoking a sense of calm.

Smell does more than just offer a little cursory consolation; it can change our behaviour entirely as fragrance expert Roja Dove discloses: “Scent is our first response to encroaching stimuli, whether that’s sniffing sour milk before we drink it or smelling a fire before we see it, often making us anxious. It’s the same with soothing scents – they have a cocooning effect that relaxes us.

When scent enters the nose, it travels through the cranial nerves straight to the olfactory bulb which helps the brain process smell. This bulb is part of the limbic system and can easily access the amygdalae, a group of nuclei which play a vital role in our emotional memories.

“That’s why scent isn’t just an accessory or a device to mask odour, it’s a brain-altering cocktail of ingredients,” Dove continues.

It’s curious, too, that when areas of the brain connected to memory are damaged, the ability to identify smell is also impaired, while studies into the brains of those suffering from depression have shown that their sense of smell is significantly reduced. Fragrance can uplift us in other ways, too. In an Austrian study, researchers wafted the smell of oranges and lavender in front of participants, who felt less anxious, more positive and calmer compared with participants who were exposed to no fragrance at all. And a study at Wheeling Jesuit University in the USA found that peppermint increased motivation and confidence – at one point, Reebok even built a peppermint smell into some of its sports bras to play on this effect during athletic activity.

A MOMENT IN TIME

But as powerful as scent is, it can’t turn back time. Last August, while Stylist was creating its art issue at the Saatchi Gallery, my phone raged non-stop before becoming a messenger of the cruellest kind. James had been hit by a car less than 500 metres from my home in Wales; he was killed instantly. In a fleeting moment, I’d lost the person who’d defined so much of my life; the person who helped me choose my university, who convinced me I was smart despite my caustically low teenage self-esteem and told me I was just as beautiful without the piercings and rainbow-coloured hair as I was with them. That nanosecond of pain was unforgettable; it should be bottled, purified and given as a form of punishment to the vilest of villains. I felt like every organ in my body was slowly starting to putrefy inside me as the world drained of its justice and meaning.

It has been over a year since that day but the weight of losing James still bears down on my chest like a colossus. It’s not until somebody you love passes away that you realise how entwined they are with your neurological being. ‘Things’ aren’t the same anymore. Flannel shirts and certain band T-shirts make me think of him, and if any Pearl Jam songs play on the office radio, I have to go outside and take a moment. Other facets of my life have subconsciously evolved too, since his death my once-cherished gregarious power scents sit relgated on a display shelf, like tarnished, once-adored religious icons. My heart just can’t relate to their asphyxiating heaviness any more. They smother me, like a velvet cloak in the arid desert heat and the very hint of their syrupy-sweetness catches the back of my throat, flicking a switch in my brain that says, “these heavy scents aren’t you any more.” I’ve got all the confidence I need now, and so much of that I owe to his unending belief in me. Now, I want something that complements and blends with my inner essence, not something that masks it. Something I don’t need to hide behind. “When you’ve been through a life-changing event, you don’t always want scents around that are reminiscent of the past,” Dove explains. “Many women change their entire fragrance preferences after break-ups, divorce and menopause – anything that’s a big milestone in their life.” For me, the bold statement I used to make with my fragrance isn’t the statement I want or need to make anymore.

The healing power of scent