The Parosmia Diaries

Did you hear the one about the parosmic who went to the perfume museum?* A trip to the Osmotheque perfume museum in Versailles seemed like a dream come true when I’d booked it through Odette Toilette in April last year.   Billed as an opportunity to smell classic fragrances dating back as far as the 1800’s (in faithfully recreated “original” formulations), plus an opportunity to talk through the history of those fragrances with master perfumer Thomas Fontaine of Jean Patou, it was a trip genuinely not to be missed.   I booked gladly, and forgot all about it for the best part of the year. Come November and the time to travel, however, the trip seemed more like a cruel joke put out by the universe. Having lost my sense of smell completely in the meantime, only to have it (partially) recover, and then discover that all smells were now completely distorted, being both disgusting and nauseating, a trip to a perfume museum under the circumstances seemed rather...

I was interviewed in the Guardian the week before last (you might have read it, I’m the lady who smells sewage ), and the feedback I’ve had from that piece has been absolutely fantastic.   There was a great interaction with the people who commented, I * nearly * got on the telly about it, and then I had to spend a few days battling with both my conscience, and the Daily Mail, who want to take pictures of me looking sad whilst holding a bottle of perfume in the name of awareness raising. In the end, my conscience won out, and   I will not be looking sad in the Daily Mail any time soon, you may (or indeed, may not!) be pleased to hear. Sorry mum!   I’ve also had a million emails to respond to, and I’m slowly working my way through them, each one, whether it has been a message of support, or the sharing of a tale similar, or even the offer of some well-meant (if occasionally slightly wonky, medically-speaking) advice, or just some kind words from an expert in a rel...