When my high school boyfriend and I broke up, my uncle gifted me the exact same laundry detergent used by my ex’s laundry lady. “So you can still smell your Jason,” my uncle joked. And though I laughed heartily, I couldn’t help but remember why the scent stuck with me in the first place.
Scents have a unique way of sticking with us, and they often trigger vivid memories, even when least expected. In fact, scents can tie us to our roots, help us rediscover our pasts, and connect us to people whose paths have crossed ours, regardless of how fleeting it might’ve been.
When everyday fragrances trigger nostalgia
According to Gideon Lasco, MD, PhD, a medical anthropologist and professorial lecturer at the Department of Anthropology of the University of the Philippines-Diliman, something as simple as the detergent your mom used or the smell of food cooked at home can bring in waves of nostalgia.
Kim Kardashian once talked about how she still can’t stand the smell of Mugler’s 90s classic Angel because it reminded her of a woman her father used to date. And, perhaps, a universal experience most Filipinos can relate to, is catching a whiff of Juicy Cologne on your friends in the morning, and all the boys at school practically marinating themselves in Axe Body Spray. When I smell For Her by Narciso Rodriguez, I’m immediately taken back to my college dorm room. I can almost picture my roommate spraying it on before a date.
The same goes for more intimate memories that come to mind when you catch a whiff of scents connected to people you had deeper connections with, like the lingering fragrance of a lover’s perfume. Lasco believes that this could explain why, historically, Filipino sailors would take their lover’s clothes or handkerchiefs on their long voyages, holding onto those scents for comfort.
He goes on to detail how even Jose Rizal’s famed Crisostomo Ibarra kept a memento of his love, Maria Clara—“a piece of paper in which were wrapped some dry, blackened leaves which gave off a sweet odor.”
The connection between scents and cultural identity
Just as personal scents can evoke powerful memories, certain scents in the Philippines carry deep cultural resonance, often linking us to places, experiences, and even traditions. These scents might be so ingrained in our daily lives that we barely notice them, but they shape our collective “olfactory knowledge,” Lasco explains.
For those more familiar with rural life, the smell of uling (charcoal) or siga (burning leaves) is unmistakable, and could possibly bring to mind specific instances from one’s life in the province. Similarly, the sweetness of sampaguita could take someone back to church (perhaps a wedding or their first communion) or even remind them of sitting at the very front of a jeepney. Aqua Allegoria Jasminora by Guerlain carries notes of the Philippines’ national flower.
Lasco further paints a picture of a “smellscape”, describing how coastal communities are typically associated with the scent of freshly-caught fish, the same way entering a mall just has a distinct, unmistakable “mall scent.” These sensory experiences contribute to the roots of our connection with places we’ve been. If you’re looking to incorporate more coastal scents in your repertoire, try Reveal by Calvin Klein or Jo Malone’s Wood Sage & Sea Salt.
Scent, it seems, doesn’t just linger in the air—it lingers in the memory, weaving itself into both our daily lives and the cultural fabric of our country. It’s the invisible string connecting past and present, love and loss, place and identity. So, whether it’s charcoal or your mother’s favorite perfume, one whiff is all it takes to remind us of who we were and, in some cases, who we might still be.
