Vergißmeinnicht Sirykid

A little journey into the past is what the perfume oil means to me. I am feeling a bit reflective at the moment, as an old, aged, charming lady passed away recently at over 90 years old. I was close friends with two of her children in the mid-70s, and my then-best friend was almost to become her daughter-in-law. Even today, the family is still close to me, although I now have good contact with other children of hers.

By chance, I came across my old perfume oils again the other day. I never managed to throw them away. Sandalwood and patchouli were all the rage back then, and the oils were pocket money-friendly. One felt a bit rebellious with the scents Opium and Orient.

I quickly sniffed the oil, and the balsamic scent of sandalwood is still there after about 50 years. I wonder if it is really genuine sandalwood oil or whatever. In my mind's eye, I was back in the 70s with the kids of the aforementioned lady. I took a short but sentimental time trip with the scent. Nothing special in today's time, but back then, they were treasures. A ribbon was threaded through the loop in the cap, and one wore the little bottle, which holds about 5ml, as a pendant around the neck. The simple, somewhat rustic label suggests a purchase around 1975. Later, they became colorful, and my taste in scents changed as well. I won't wear the scent and its friends, but I will take them out for a little time travel and have a sniff.