Orange blossoms, horse stables, bubble gum, motorcycle gasoline, straw, Chanel No. 5, and that pleasant, earthy aroma that arises after rainfall, known as petrichor. Each a singular scent, but with the powerful capacity to evoke infinite memories and emotions, visions of people and places, moments both past and present. When we asked the following six women what aromas they loved (and why), which ones conjured specific memories, and how certain scents exist in their work, whether in the form of rituals or as elemental components of their processes, we knew no two individuals could possibly offer the same responses.

That’s the remarkable, ever-astonishing nature of scent: perhaps the most haunting and inscrutable of the senses for the very fact that something invisible, intangible, and silent can tap into the same perceptions elicited by the others, often unlocking parts of ourselves that have remained dormant for years. And thank you dear science, but is it any surprise that studies have shown that women are more sensitive to scents than men?

Whether it’s the dangerous, illicit feeling of that first whiff of ammonia, or the summery sweetness of straw as it’s warmed and turned pliant to shape into hats, these are just a few of the scents plucked from the catalogues of our subjects’ vast and varied lives.