I don’t have a “who are you” story that can fit into the 300 word zone. Instead, I will tell who LiquidKarl, the name I chose for my for-this-class handle is.
Memory and scent seem to be inextricably linked. Our current scientific understanding of this stuff says so (I had an article to like here, but EZProxy is being a jerk; will relink when on campus), and considering that, I don’t feel too ridiculous saying that I remember my mom as White Linen. Dad and Pap are 4711. I remember Nana as Emeraude. My favorite babysitter was Beautiful. Middle school was alllll Love’s Baby Soft (or Lemon, or Jasmine, or Soft Musk; we all got that gift set that had all them all and they were all goooood). My best girlfriend in high school was clove cigarettes and “peach” oil from Wicks and Sticks at Century III Mall.
I like smells, good and bad, and perfume has become a serious hobby in my adult life. I think that in all of my futzing around I am really just looking for ‘my’ scent. The pursuit is a surprisingly rewarding thing, if you like smelling stuff. Keep smelling and your nose evolves, and things that used to read as fussy will read as crazy complex and interesting and wearable.
So, Liquid Karl. It was one of the ‘signature’ scents released by fancy fashion duder Karl Lagerfeld in the 00’s. It allegedly smells pretty good, BUT THAT NAME. Liquid Karl is the worst name that I have ever heard for something that is supposed to smell good.
LIQUID KARL. That’s me, until I figure it out.