I bought a bottle of perfume from a tiny, dark chemist's shop in Bury St Edmunds in the 1960s. It was Russian and the label was in that language, so I don't know exactly what it was called. It had a sultry, orange scent to it, and, of course, when it was finished, I could never find it again. However, Diorissimo does smell very similar and that has become my favourite perfume. I agree, MiceElf about the power of scent. In my teens, I wore a perfume called Manhattan and, at this time, I was going through a very unhappy relationship. Twenty years later, in a fish and chip shop of all places, I suddenly felt very sad for no apparent reason, until I realised that the woman in front of me was wearing Manhattan.