• Remember Old Spice?
    I’m not talking about the uber-viral transformation of the brand in recent years epitomized by the “Old Spice Guy” suburban-porn style TV commercials (although that was pretty impressive). I’m talking about the way it smelled when men wore it in the 40s, 50s, and 60s. The way the Old Spice Old Guys wore it.

    My grandfather was one of them. Yours was, too, I’ll bet. He shaved with their soap. It came in a ceramic mug with a bristly brush and he lathered up with that stuff and then slapped on the cologne. Copiously.

    Oh, that smell. Not the sea and sailors, but Papa Pete, the Elks Hall and shuffleboard dust.

    I’m a twentieth-century girl, living in the twenty-first century. I don’t just dig vintage. I am vintage. I remember…
    Red couch
    nubby and rough
    flecked with black
    wide flat fabric buttons
    twisted in tiny chubby fingers
    Pale blonde hair bent
    into awkward tufted curls
    skinny legs scraped knees flung reckless
    across grandpa’s lap
    Tender ankles
    in folded white socks
    the rustle of taffeta
    yellow chiffon dress
    wide satin ribbon dangles
    Papa, rough man
    nubby as the couch
    whiskers blunt and whiskey-breathed
    whispers endearments in tiny pink ears
    Baby girl skin rides
    across tobacco-rich flannel
    old spice and beer
    The red couch
    It’s Wayback Wednesday. What takes you back to simpler times and the places and people you’ve loved?

    For me, nothing takes me back in time quicker and simpler than the smell of jasmine tea. A whiff of it transports me back to my childhood days running around with my cousins in my grandmothers house. Some days, I really miss those times.


    Mmm. Jenn, WRITE about your grandmother's house. I'm begging you...