We believe in the transformative power of pure perfume! Intense emotions and vivid memories are connected with scent; it is truly the most magical of senses.
If you or someone you know has experienced the undeniable force of fragrance, we ask you to share your story!
It can be romantic, funny, sad, miraculous, spiritual, or anything you choose. We would love to hear about your experience!
Each month a “Power of Perfume” story winner will be selected to receive a complimentary Heaven’s Alchemy Sample Set.
Here are the rules:
1. “Power of Perfume” stories must have a title and be under 500 words. If over 500 words, may be edited.
2. Submit via email to info@Aidanaryl.com. Please write the word “Power of Perfume” in the subject line.
3. Please do not use brand names or surnames (last names) in your story. Brand names and surnames will be edited if included.
4. Please provide your contact phone number, your name, city, state (or country). We will use your first name, the first letter of your last name, city, state and country to identify your story and to mail prizes. Prizes will be shipped to U.S. and Canadian entries/addresses only.
5. Aidan AryL Enterprises, LLC (AAE) reserves the right to select the final winner (or winners). All stories submitted become the property of AAE. You agree to give up all rights or claims to any materials you submit to AAE. AAE may publish stories on the internet, in print or in any other form.
6. We ask visitors to our website to vote for their favorite story by sending us an email at info@Aidanaryl.com. Please write the word “Vote” in the subject line and the title of the story for which you are voting.
7. All info collected by AAE may be used as market research or to contact you regarding product promotions. AAE reserves the right to modify, amend, change or cancel any part of this offering, rules or prizes.
February, 2013 Stories
THE LEGACY OF MEMORY
It was our last time cuddled together, I'd never be able to hug her again, once I got up I'd have only this last moment to imprint her forever in my heart. The touch of her elegant slender hands, the now boney curve of her shoulders, the serene expression on her face, the beautiful arched eyebrows, and the greying dark brown hair still wet from her last shower. She was my mommy, the person who protected me, encouraged me, taught me to be the woman I would become. She was poised and strong yet always an aura of a fragile girl clinging to her in a way only her daughter identified with. The last five years cancer stealing her from us slowly while she held her family together. At 35 I still needed my mother and hated letting her go. Trying to absorb every detail to commit this to a final memory of her, to hold on to every single bit of my mother including the soft caressing fragrance that had always welcomed me into her loving arms. For years I locked this memory deep within my heart for fear of the flood of tears that I knew would pour, closed the door to protect myself from the pain of loss. Closed photo albums, scarves neatly packed away, and her fragrance collection boxed up and hidden in the dark corner of my closet. I missed her, but my memory was strong and I knew her love was with me always, yet I still could not allow myself to wear the comforting fragrances we had both shared and enjoyed discovering. Now 12 years later, I long to know how she would like the new gourmand fragrances, would she find them unique and fun, would we have one of our fun mother daughter trips to the beauty counter to test out makeup trends and sample new fragrances. Would she ask me before my birthday, "something frivolous or utilitarian?" Only to surprise me with a gift a mother uniquely chooses for her daughter. Even though she is not physically here with me now, I look forward to experience the world of artistic fragrance tour such as you have created. I'd love to share my joy of fragrance with my husband and son and know those memories will be long lasting.
-Leanne S., Salem, Oregon USA
April, 2012 Stories
Fragrance is one of the forces in our lives where a split second can be infused into our minds and hold you captive for eternity. Cinnamon, milk, fennel, black pepper, chives, vanilla, caramel, musk and cedar: the scent of my first love’s chest. He smelled less like cologne and more like a man and it made me think of ancient temples with incense burning in the background. I looked up at him as we were still in a hug and couldn’t stop trying to distill the scent of his body into the imaginary flacon of my memory. I was so used to the way his body smelled it came as a nice surprise. I think he was embarrassed I had buried my face into him.
The moment was brief and I knew immediately I had to recreate it. For the following months I sought after any and every perfume that was categorized as spicy, woody or aromatic; I sampled all the fragrance blends offered at natural wellness and aromatherapy stores, all to no avail. Anyone who’s tried to recreate a fragrance knows that the whole idea is laughable—even blending essential oils drop by drop comes nowhere near knowing the formula, or in this case, the real thing. After months I had perfume oil I personally blended using essential oils of cinnamon, cedar, black pepper, ylang-ylang, vanilla and myrrh but in the end it is like comparing a light bulb to the sun.
He had the softest hands and a way with his big eyes, but the thing I remember most about him was that minute I had spent in his arms, praying that it would never end. The cologne he usually wore had musk, sandalwood, vetiver, bergamot and some sort of light floral if I remember correctly; it was nice, but all along I hoped to smell him underneath all that stuff. And all I have left is a memory and a vial of perfume oil. To this day, if I close my eyes and try hard enough, I can still smell him as if he was standing in front of me like a still-life photograph.
-J.S., BC, Canada
July, 2011 Stories
THE LOVE POTION
I had to find the perfect one. I spritzed the air and sniffed. Spritz, sniff. Spritz, sniff.
It couldn’t be too modern-scented. I definitely didn’t want something that smelled like it was distilled right from a high-fashion model. No, I needed something evocative and alluring; yet it also had to permeate the imagination with timeless aromas.
I needed a love potion—the perfect bottle of perfume for a devious plan: I was going to use this perfume to create an enchanting sense memory for my fiancé on our wedding night. If I succeeded, it would be the single most unprecedented victory in the history of soul-mates. Spritz, sniff. Spritz, sniff.
“Ma’am, could I help you with anything?” the saleswoman asked meekly.
“No. I’m just browsing… Thank you,” I replied curtly. But I wasn’t browsing. I was sealing the fate of my marriage. I thought, Of course everyone knows that our strongest memories are linked to the sense of smell. But no one knows how to harness that force like I do. I became more feverish as I inhaled the fragrances, hungry for my Bottle of Destiny. And then— Seductive! Spicy! Warm... Enduring… Innocent? Yes, it was all of these things: it was the perfect perfume.
Picked, purchased, and planted into the future memories of my fiancé. The delicious scent lingered in my head, whispering its promises of eternal love. I mean, I did love my fiancé in a way that was rational and spiritual. But a woman needs to take charge of her own passion if she is to truly succeed as someone’s life partner. In a world where the media wages war on our minds and bodies, we must find ways to triumph. We must take control of our senses to shine with confidence and find fulfillment.
At long last the wedding came. My husband and I shared our gratitude and paid our dues to those who wished us well. Soon it would be time to consummate our promise.
We arrived at the honeymoon destination; my husband came with his suitcase and I came with a plot. I dressed my body and my face. I styled my hair. But no woman in the state of passion is complete without her perfume. So I pulled out the slender bottle and embellished myself with the scent. In mere moments, the fate of my husband’s memories would be sealed: my youthful, seductive image would be forever burned into his thoughts, and all by the power of my potion. I fragrantly entered the room and we embraced.
After all these years I sometimes wonder if I was wrong to do it. I ask myself Was I being too manipulative? Did I brainwash my husband? Was I just as maniacal as the assault of the advertising world on us? Well, consider this… whenever I spritz on my secret weapon, my husband comes running and embraces me as though he’s seeing his wife for the very first time. Is that really so evil?
-Stephanie E., Los Angeles, California USA
May, 2011 Stories
Going through a divorce can be an emotionally devastating life event. In addition, to losing a husband, I lost my job, which was working in 'our family business.' He was a manufacturer's rep and would be on the road most of the week. I was responsible for the office functions.
I had received a bottle of perfume from a girlfriend for my birthday. It seemed the perfect fragrance for me so I began wearing it all the time. Over the years, I would dress for business and arrive at the showroom every morning, fashionably dressed and well groomed. I would arrive just after dropping the children at school and stay the morning working on our company's books all by myself, waving through the glass to an occasional passer by.
We shared the showroom with Steve who, with his wife, Shelly, had become good friends of ours socially. I rarely saw him at the showroom, as he would usually arrivein the late afternoon, well after I had left .
During the emotional 'settling of legal affairs period,' I stopped by to see both of them at their home one afternoon. I felt as if whatever life I had been living all those years would cease to exist. Whatever I had built as a career, a wife, and in friendships with couples would all soon fade away. So, the two of them were making suggestions and cheerfully trying to prepare me for what my future could be.
We all make our mark in life in ways we think we know and ways in which we are simply unaware. For a brief moment, his wife left the kitchen and Steve looked frankly and sadly at me. I still remember what he said to me, even now, 20 years later. "You know, there's another thing I will miss about you not working at the office anymore.....after a long day in the stores, or a trip on the road, I would come into the office, smell the air, and know you had been there."
-Ronnie A., Naples, Florida USA