Amelia Earhart, Freckle Cream and the Power of Signature Style

I have always been fascinated by Amelia Earhart. I’ve devoured countless books about the adventurous aviator, listened to Joni Mitchell’s haunting “Amelia” on repeat for hours and, after being terribly disappointed by the movie version of her life, seriously considered writing my own screenplay. If my firstborn had been a girl, there’s a good chance Alex would have been Amelia.

So I was immediately drawn to an article my friend, Lisa Rowan-Gillis, shared on Facebook today, Can a 75-year-old jar of freckle cream unlock the mystery of Amelia Earhart’s disappearance?

It seems researchers have just discovered pieces of a broken jar that resembles Dr. Berry’s Freckle Ointment, a 1930s anti-freckle cream that Earhart could very well have been carrying with her on her fateful flight since she was pretty open about the fact that she was not a fan of her own freckles. I love this!

Now, I realize that people may not want to start talking “beauty” about one of the most daring and accomplished women in American history and may wonder if every story about a female has to include a discussion about looks – I get that and I totally agree. But I would find it equally endearing if, let’s say, a tube of hair gel was found at the site of John F. Kennedy Jr.’s plane crash and it was known that he didn’t like his natural coif.

Little everyday details like this serve to humanize bigger-than-life icons and make it easier to relate to them: “Oh, she hated her freckles too – yet she became the she first woman to fly solo across the Atlantic. Guess it won’t hold me back from going to law school or medical school — or the grocery store.”

That’s not why I wanted to write this, though. After reading the article, my first thought – which really should have been something like, “Wow, it’s so great that they’re finally learning more about Earhart’s disappearance” – was actually, “Hmmm … I wonder which product would make someone think of me?”

I started considering whether I have a signature style and, if I do, which product defines it. I went straight to the person who would give me the most direct, honest and accurate answer – my daughter.

“Sara,” I asked, “Is there a product someone would find somewhere and know that I had been there?”

“Your yellow sunglasses,” she answered without missing a beat.

“Really?” I crinkled my nose in disgust. I do not – repeat, not – want to be defined by those sunglasses. Yes, they’re cool in a vintage-y kind of way but they’re so not me. My husband convinced me to buy them because they’re definitely interesting and out of the box for me, and I wear them all the time because they were too expensive to rationalize replacing, but I am way more of a black frames/dark lenses kind of a girl. The idea of being defined by those yellow sunglasses is sort of horrifying to me.

“No,” I said, calmly, trying to shake that image from my mind. “Not something I wear. A specific beauty product.”

“Your perfume that smells like fresh laundry,” she answered, again without missing a beat. “The one called, like, Fresh Laundry? But you’ll never want to admit you wear something that smells like laundry.”

“Of course I will,” I smiled, relieved to be rescued by Philosophy’s Pure Grace. I love that scent. LOVE. I had to Google “Fresh Laundry” to prove to my daughter that’s not the real name of it and then I had to Google the whole Demeter fragrance library (which I happen to adore) whose contribution to the genre, Laundromat, is closely related but is not my scent.

I wear Pure Grace all the time, layered by shower gel, scrub, body lotion, cologne and even hand soap. It is a light, simple scent which, according to Philosophy is “the clean smell of soap and water; the memory of fresh air woven into a set of crisp, white cotton sheets; a cold deep breath on a snowy winter night; the best summer morning you have ever known; the one white t-shirt that feels better than the rest.” True!

I always feel better when I get a whiff of Pure Grace. I literally feel myself relax. Spraying it on before I leave the house makes me feel complete — makes me feel like me — and ready to face the day. And I get a surprising number of compliments on it, especially while hugging — which I guess I do a lot.

So, yes, Sara, I am happy to admit I wear something that smells like fresh laundry! I wouldn’t want to be defined by doing laundry all the time (trust me, that is so far from accurate, it wouldn’t work anyway) but having a signature scent that is as clean and comforting as fresh laundry? I’m actually standing a little straighter and prouder now.

Signature style is as individual as each one of us. It doesn’t matter if our product of choice is something as quirky as laundry-scented perfume or anti-freckle cream – as long as it makes us feel comfortable in our own skin and gives us the confidence to soar.

This post originally appeared on my former blog, StyleSubstanceSoul.com.