I recently had to move my bedroom from one room to another within my house. The first step to switching rooms was to move the easiest things first--my clothing. This process was rather drawn out only because I had a large abundance of clothing that needed to be sorted. Finally nearing the end of a closet I had previously thought of as relatively small, I noticed a dress I hadn’t worn since sometime last fall. This pretty, yet modest white and brown polka dotted dress, had garnered many compliments on what was probably the only and last day I would even wear it.
It was still wrapped in its plastic cover from the dry cleaners. Feeling sorry for the neglected dress, I tore the plastic from the metal hanger. Immediately after the dress was uncovered a distinct and familiar smell erupted. It was the smell of my ex-boyfriend. The dress had sat at Chris’ house before we broke up, soaking in the smell of the other clothing smashed into his closet.
I took one deep breath drawing in the former beaus smell and, feeling ashamed for doing so shoved the dress into my new closet. The smell of my ex does not bring back the last few days together or whatever reason we broke up, but comfort and memories of time spent at his house.
This simple little dress had sent my olfactory memory into overdrive. I stood before my new closet a little lost and wide eyed wondering what I should do next.
I probably should have left the plastic on the dress.