My custom perfume oil, purchased at Soapology on 8th Ave at West 13th St.
I'm a perfume person. My mind creates little stories with scent, matching aromas to distinct memories. Chloé Eau de Parfum, for example, conjures scenes of winter mornings, when I'd put a few spritzes on my scarf and bury my nose inside on the way to school. The smell that Suave creatively titled "Ocean Breeze" takes me back to Long Beach Island, when I'd slather off sand and salt with aqua-colored body wash from the local drugstore. Ever since my first bottle of perfume—Ralph Rocks by Ralph Lauren, my go-to in middle school—I've been hooked on finding a signature scent. I love the idea of leaving a fragrance footprint of sorts; something that people can identify me with. I imagined something more personal than a brand name perfume... the idea is to smell like me, not like Beyoncé or Marc Jacobs. Enter Soapology. I stumbled upon their storefront on a West Village stroll yesterday and was immediately smitten with the organic potions, apothecary-style packaging, and vintage décor. I was a kid in a candy store at the aromatic oil bar, where I sniffed dozens of natural plant oils before selecting a blend of black coconut, vanilla, and fig. The resulting scent strikes a balance between fruity and nutty, with a subtle undertone of spice. Mmmmm. Divine.