The power of scent; an ode to Stella.

Stella by Stella McCartney*

Stella. The name of our family pup who used to sleep beside my cot and run to wake up my mother if I ever awoke in the night. Stella. Also the name of the scent I have worn during some of the most pivotal and also some of the most simple, everyday moments of my life.

Pressing my fingers up to the misty windows of the bus on morning commutes. Moving to new places. Exams. Graduating from University. When I found myself falling in love with books all over again. Wandering around supermarkets, deciding what to make for dinner. So many I love you's. Cuddles with Ralphie. A few painful goodbyes. When nerves built whilst sitting in waiting rooms. Tangled up with the scent of evening rain. Birthdays. Christmases. A couple of plane journeys. To concerts. When making bad decisions, and a few good decisions too. To remind me of home when I haven't been there physically. To remind me of who I am, who I used to be, who I can be when I haven't been present mentally. Sitting on clifftops looking out to sea. Blowing bubbles in countryside villages. Dreaming of where I want to be, and figuring out how to get there.

I have received many bottles as gifts, given almost as many as gifts. And I probably never would have discovered it if it weren't for this space on the internet where I have spent so much of my early twenties. Those important years I have spent learning what it means to be myself.

To me Stella smells like strength, vulnerability, pure unapologetic joy, painful rawness, silliness, a comforting embrace, truth, determination, confusion, a smidge of certainty and the hopeful uncertainty of all the things that are yet to come.

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What is your favourite fragrance? 

What does it smell like to you? 

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New York in a Few Words

Chasing the sun half across the world in a tin can with wings. I cannot get my head around plane travel. • I don't think I've ever eaten as much in a single day as on our outbound flight. From pretzels, to mini fab ice lollies, to love hearts sweeties. Top marks Virgin Atlantic. • Paying for extra legroom: 10/10 would do again. • Manic taxi rides. • Pockets of solitude nestled within the general hustle and bustle. • A cityscape of dreams hotel view. • Feeling overwhelmed at first, but soon settling into city life. • Walking fast, learning how to effectively zip in between lost tourists and food carts. • Learning to time the crossings perfectly. • Dogs in coats. • Silly purchases. • Enormous Chocolate chip pancakes. • Getting a little carried away in Strand Books. • Dodging comedy central audience finders, bus tour operators and open arms of Elmo, Mickey or a Minion. • Late night CVS snack runs. • Avoiding the subway and walking almost everywhere, soaking up city vibes. • A city that implores you to look up, and not always at the floor. • Standing at the top of the Empire State Building just after sunset. • The discovery of the little wonders that are Jolly Ranchers. • Happily taking photographs for cute families as a memento of them enjoying every second of their holiday. I hope they look back on them fondly in the years to come. • Seeing The Starry Night up close at MoMa. Magic. • Finding the New Yorker sense of self-assuredness beginning to rub off on me a little. • Finding the work of Erica Baum and Sara VanDerBeek in the Guggenheim. • The Statue of Liberty in silhouette as the sun set behind her. • Lots of smashed avocado and orange juice. • Endless possibilities. • The sound of almost perpetual car horns. • The calming pace of Central Park early on a Sunday morning. • Never once feeling unsafe. • The beautiful eeriness of quiet streets closed to traffic for the Macy's Parade. • A whistle-stop trip to Sephora. One word: overwhelming. • Back to JFK in an enormously oversized I heart NY jumper, because why the heck not? • Turbulence. Turbulence. Turbulence. • Greeted by the most beautiful sunrise I have ever seen as we came in to land in London. • So good to be home, but forever changed by six days in New York City.

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