So everyone has that “one” perfume—their first “adult” or “grown-up” scent. For me, it might actually be two… or maybe even both.
The first one takes me back to when I was about 14 years old. We were in a Sears department store. My parents weren’t particularly wealthy, so buying perfume was usually out of the question. However, my dad had just gotten a new job with a significant increase in income, and for once, we were allowed to pick out something we wanted (within reason, of course).
I had every intention of buying new clothes, but as I walked through the fragrance aisle on my way to the clothing section, something stopped me. I don’t remember exactly which perfume it was, but something about that moment drew me in.
As I sat down to write about my first “grown-up” perfume, I initially only thought about the one I’m about to mention. But as I started writing, I was suddenly transported back to that Sears store. It all clicked, and I realized—that was where my true olfactory journey began.
As I wandered around trying different perfumes, one completely stopped me in my tracks: Cacharel Anaïs Anaïs. This fragrance has been around since 1978, and it has this incredibly nostalgic, almost comforting quality.
The top notes include bergamot, black currant, galbanum, hyacinth, honeysuckle, lavender, lemon, and white lily. The heart expands into a lush bouquet of carnation, iris, jasmine, lily, lily of the valley, Moroccan jasmine, orris root, rose, tuberose, and ylang-ylang. It settles into a base of amber, cedar, incense, leather, oakmoss, patchouli, sandalwood, and vetiver.
Anaïs Anaïs was actually the very first perfume released by Cacharel, and it remains one of the most nostalgic scents across generations—my parents’, mine, and maybe even my children’s one day.
It’s the kind of fragrance that transports you. It reminds me of that one cool, sophisticated aunt who shows up for birthdays and holidays—effortlessly elegant. She appears in the doorway like a quiet statement, asks how you’ve been, and pulls you into a delicate hug before handing you a card with something special tucked inside.
There’s a strange familiarity to the scent. A soft swirl of incense wrapped in florals, grounded by sandalwood and amber. It feels warm, nostalgic, and quietly refined.
That memory leads me to my second “first” grown-up perfume: Valentino Donna Born in Roma.
While they share some overlapping notes, they couldn’t feel more different. Donna Born in Roma opens with bergamot, black currant, and pink pepper, followed by jasmine, jasmine sambac, and jasmine tea. It dries down into bourbon vanilla, cashmeran, and guaiac wood.
I had just decided to purchase Dolce & Gabbana Light Blue Eau Intense as my first designer perfume as an adult. While the sales associate was preparing it, another associate approached me and sprayed Donna Born in Roma on my wrist.
I remember thinking, “Wow… this smells expensive. This smells grown.”
I immediately added it to my purchase.
To this day, it’s one of the few perfumes I consistently repurchase the moment I run out—which says everything about how much I love it.
So, can someone have two “first grown-up” perfume experiences?
I think the answer is yes.
