Lisa O
Certain scents hit you, and suddenly, you’re back in your room, at school, or out riding bikes with your friends. You didn’t think much of it at the time, but those everyday smells stuck with you. Here are ten scents from the 1970s that bring childhood rushing back the second they hit your nose.
Freshly Opened Can of Play-Doh
Twisting off the lid of a new Play-Doh can was a little event in itself. That salty, doughy smell was weird, but you liked it anyway. The scent stayed on your hands long after you were done. Even when the colors got mixed and dried out, the smell still said “playtime.” Just opening the can was enough to bring back afternoons spent on the floor, making whatever your imagination allowed.
Mimeograph Paper from School
Before you even looked at the paper, you smelled it. That sharp, inky scent hit your nose the second the teacher handed it out. It was part chemical, part something else you couldn’t explain, but every kid knew it. You’d press the sheet to your face like it was normal. No one questioned it. It stuck to your hands, your books, and somehow made even the most boring quiz feel more important.
Johnson’s Baby Shampoo
That yellow bottle was in nearly every bathroom. The scent was soft and soapy, not too strong, but once you knew it, you never forgot it. It filled the room during bath time and stayed in your hair after. You might not remember every bath, but you remember that smell. It meant bubbles, plastic toys, maybe a little crying, and getting wrapped up in a towel when it was all done.
Plastic Toys Right Out of the Package
Opening a new toy didn’t just look exciting—it had a smell too. That plastic scent hit you the second the box came open. It wasn’t exactly nice, but it meant something brand new was yours. You didn’t worry about what it was made of. You just tore the package open and started playing. Even now, sometimes walking past a toy aisle brings a bit of that smell back.
Pine-Scented Cleaning Products
When the house smelled like pine, you knew someone was on a cleaning mission. The floors were probably wet, the windows open, and you were told to stay out of the way. That sharp, fake-forest smell was all over the place. It wasn’t good or bad—it just meant things were being scrubbed down and put back in order. If you smell it now, it still smells like Saturday morning at home.
Wet Pavement After Rain
Right after a summer shower, the streets gave off a warm, gritty smell. The mix of wet concrete and humid air was oddly calming. It meant your bike tires would leave tracks and the grass stuck to your legs. You didn’t stop to notice it back then. But now, the moment that smell returns, so does the memory of jumping puddles and being out way past dinner time.
Bubblegum from Baseball Card Packs
You didn’t buy those cards for the gum, but the smell was part of the experience. That sweet, chalky scent hit you as soon as you tore open the pack. The gum snapped in half before you even bit into it, but it didn’t matter. The mix of sugar, cardboard, and a little dust was oddly perfect. It was the smell of trading cards at recess and hoping for your favorite player.
Campfire Smoke from the Backyard
You didn’t need a campsite for the smell of a good fire. One whiff of wood smoke meant something was happening outside. You might have been roasting marshmallows or just watching sticks burn. Either way, your clothes and hair picked up that scent and carried it into the next day. It stayed in your hoodie and your pillowcase. That smell still means warmth, people close by, and a night worth remembering.
Freshly Mowed Grass
That earthy smell meant it was Saturday. Lawnmowers buzzed in the background while you watched from the porch or ran through the yard barefoot. It wasn’t about chores. It was about freedom. The scent of grass mixed with sunscreen, sweat, and whatever snack you brought outside. It wasn’t a clean smell. It was a real one. One whiff now still brings back sunburnt noses and endless afternoons with nothing to do.
The Scent of Crayons in a Pencil Box
Opening your pencil box released a wave of waxy, colorful scent. Crayons didn’t just smell like art supplies—they smelled like creativity waiting to happen. Some were dull from use, others still sharp with paper wrappers peeled halfway down. That scent lived in classroom corners and filled rainy-day afternoons at home.