Scent Memories: My Great-Grandma's Perfume

I made a delightfully sentimental score while browsing an antique shop last weekend.  My family was visiting and my dad loves this particular store as much as I do, so we try to hit it up when he's in town.  We could spend half a day in there, poking around.  There is so much cool old stuff to admire and figure out and puzzle over.  My dad will tell me stories about remembering this-or-that brand of soda or soap.  He'll pick up toys he always wanted or remembers from his childhood.

This is how I came to learn that my great-grandma wore a perfume called Evening in Paris.

With Joyce's Quilt as the photo backdrop--for extra antique awesomeness.

My dad uncapped one of the bottles and we had a sniff.  It made my dad smile.  I decided that my sentimental soul couldn't resist.  I wanted to wear my great-grandma's perfume.  I had to take a bottle home with me.

It smells light and fresh and vaguely reminds me of roses and baby powder.  It seems a perfect grandmotherly fragrance.  There actually was an Evening in Paris powder set for sale, too, which my great-grandmother also used.  I love family stories like that.  Little things.  Everyday things.

I told my niece, Keleigh, about it and we both put on a dab.  Now, despite the fact neither of us ever met her in life, Kel she knows what her great-great grandma smelled like, too.  My happy heart did backflips.

I'm wearing Evening in Paris today.  With a string of my grandma's pearls to cap it off.  Oh, my heart!  It is full of familial warm fuzzies.