the erratic, aromatic tumblr of
nosygirl.net
nosygirl.net
Flower Arrangements by Parker Fitzgerald for Kinfolk magazine Vol. 7
spring fever flavor
(Source: wildthicket)
Thomas Brown, The Scent of Darkness
http://thomasbrown.info/its-nice-that-magazine/the-scent-of-darkness
(Source: propaedeuticist)
“When she bleeds the smells I know change colour. There is iron in her soul on those days. She smells like a gun.” ~Jeanette Winterson, Written on the Body
(With apologies to & appreciation for Slaughterhouse 90210.) I wanted an excuse to post this quote, and to let this photo commemorate the week I unsuccessfully attempted to read every single Spring Breakers think piece on the internet.
LETTER TO MY DOWNSTAIRS NEIGHBOR
Hello! This is Heidi from apartment 34. I was wondering, do you have a cat and if so, do you so totally fail to change its litter box that the smell makes me feel like I live in your apartment, not mine? Or maybe did you die a long time ago? Are you maybe just dead in your apartment? To be fair to you, I’ve always had a vivid sense of smell. I can remember the smells of every one of my boyfriends—one smelled of flan, one of wool sweaters removed in fall from the wooden drawers in which they’d spent the summer, one of Pears soap, one of paisley (imagine what a paisley would smell like—like a father, I guess), one of puffed rice, one of coffee that’s percolated upward through the top of a skull. I once had a confused relationship with a smoker. I kept trying to get a sexual read off of him, but he just smelled like smoke. I deemed him unknowable and broke up with him. I wondered how anyone could fall in love with or want to fuck a smoker. It would be like falling in love with a bar or a restaurant (before the smoking ban) or with the traffic island outside of JFK. And who can eat in a restaurant that smells of bleach? There’s a popular restaurant near my house that stinks like a public swimming pool. I take my food to go. My son also has a strong sense of smell. He notices when I use a different body cream. He says, “you don’t smell like my mom.” This is what the smell of your apartment makes me want to say to my apartment—you don’t smell like my home. This doesn’t smell like my life.
I am crazy about this paragraph and want to read loads more about Ms. Julavits’s “vivid sense of smell” and need to find out whether she’d be willing to do a Nosy Interview. [Thanks to @emilygould for making sure I saw this.]
“My daughter is 8, and she doesn’t care about scent. She smells lovely and biscuity and her mother bans perfume. That’s probably a wise move: her mother knows, like her father does, that the beginning of scent in bottles is also the end of innocence. Shouldn’t there be a time in a person’s life before yearning? Shouldn’t there be days before the onset of doubt?”
“Tailor-made for preening, with a top note of sandalwood, a middle note of tonka bean and a base of self-righteousness.”
Campfire Cologne. Safe to *watch* at work, but NSFW in another way, depending on the size of your beard, & your company’s policy regarding small cubicle fires.
“Mixing multiple wavelengths that span the human visual range equally makes white light; mixing multiple frequencies that span the range of human hearing equally makes the whooshing hum of white noise. Neurobiologist Noam Sobel from the Weizmann Institute of Science in Israel and his colleagues wanted to find out whether a similar phenomenon happens with smelling.”
