Bottling Amsterdam: A Scented Love Letter

If you could bottle up your twenties, what would it smell like? Ours would be a blur of strobe lights, limerence, late nights, and transformation. The scent of becoming, shaped by the city that held it all.

Photo Credit: Cleo Goossens

They say that our sense of smell is the most vivid pathway to memory. A scent can unearth a moment long forgotten. A fleeting thought, a feeling, a place you once called home, a version of yourself that no longer exists.

If you had to bottle up your twenties, what would it smell like?

Well, for me, it would probably smell like limerence, sonder, and the teenage drama I haven’t quite outgrown. Like that one boy. Like sweat, stroboscope lights, late nights bleeding into early mornings. Like confusion. Like freedom. And, always, like the city where it all happened.

There’s something deeply romantic about the idea of trying to trap a moment in time into a scent. Like writing a letter, you can wear. For Anastasia and me, that city is Amsterdam. The backdrop of our twenties (so far, at least). A city that’s fast and slow all at once. A place where you can choose your own pace, your rhythm. A place that lets everyone have their own thing without asking for an explanation.

Enter Le Labo, a brand we’ve both loved long before our paths crossed. If you were to hug us both at once (lucky you), you’d be hit with a confusing yet strangely symbiotic cloud of Another 13 and Rose 31. Even the numbers are inverted. Call it fate, or just Aa being Aa.

As we kept circling around this idea, how to contain our Amsterdam, how to bottle the blur of becoming ourselves, Le Labo came along and invited us to experience their attempt at just that: bottling the essence of Amsterdam.

Mousse de Chêne 30 does exactly that. Moss and patchouli ground it, while their synthetic boosters, crystal moss and clearwood, bring sharpness and lift. Then there’s cinnamon, pimento bay oil, and pink pepper to spice things up. It’s elegant but tense, familiar but strange.

If you’re not into poetic metaphors, here’s the practical version: Mousse de Chêne 30 is a neo-chypre fragrance. (And no—’neo-chypre’ isn’t just a word we made up.) A neo-chypre is essentially a modern twist on the classic chypre fragrance family, which is traditionally defined by a blend of citrus top notes, a floral heart, and a mossy, woody base. 

While classic chypres lean sharp, green, and structured, neo-chypres introduce softer, more unexpected accords that feel contemporary and layered. It’s traditional and progressive all at once. Just like Amsterdam, when you really think about it.

To celebrate its launch, Le Labo took us on an excursion that felt like Alice in Wonderland meets Summer Camp meets The White Lotus. Picture a scenic boat ride to Durgerdam, drinks on the deck, potions waiting for us in our rooms, and a long dinner that melted into an even longer night in the study. Morning swims followed, and the entire experience struck that perfect balance between suspense and serenity. 

And somewhere between the lake, the scent stations, and the delicious food we got to talking. About smell, memory, and everything in between.

IN CONVERSATION

Here are a few of the things we asked each other along the way…

Anastasia: You know what I’ve been thinking about during this whole trip? If your twenties had a base note, what do you think it would be?

Awa: If a base note is the scent that stays after everything else fades, then mine would be a mix of restless curiosity and residual teenage angst. There’s still some awkwardness there, moments of stumbling. But underneath it all, there’s something fresher: the slow, steady realization that you’re the one steering. That adulthood isn’t a switch you flip, but something you circle back to again and again. 

They say scent is the most powerful trigger of memory, more than sight, more than sound. It hits before you even realize what you’re remembering. So, what’s your strongest scent-related memory?

Anastasia: Well, my strongest scent-related memory takes me right to my teenage years. My first love wore a Montblanc perfume, which I discovered was extremely popular at that time because I could smell it on anyone from 2 meters away, and I thought it was him. Although the perfume is definitely less popular these days, whenever I smell it, it still brings back memories of that innocent, childish love that I felt at the time. 

With Amsterdam as the backdrop of (y)our memories these past few years, what do you think its heart note would be? Does pink pepper make sense to you?

Awa:  I’d say the heart note of the city is something that gives you a rush — a little unexpected, soft yet with an edge. Amsterdam gives you the feeling of freedom laced with friction. That’s why pink pepper makes sense. It’s warm and slightly floral, but there’s a kick to it. It doesn’t overpower, it lingers, spicy and subtle at once. 

And while Amsterdam may be our chosen home, if you go inward, beyond the city, beyond geography, what does home smell like for you? Is there a scent that takes you back?

Anastasia: One smell that always reminds me of home is that of… sulfur. Unexpected, off-putting and a bit odd, I know, but let me explain. The neighborhood I grew up in Tbilisi is called Abanotubani, which translates to ‘bath quarter.’ It’s the home of the dome-shaped Georgian sulfur baths that were my brother and I’s childhood playgrounds: One of my most vivid and cherished memories is us running around and climbing up and down these domes.

A soft sulfuric smell was the backdrop of it all, so although I would not wear it as perfume :), I still appreciate the smell as it instantly transports me back to those sweet times. It also captures the love-hate relationship I’ve developed with Tbilisi over the years, just like the scent I always find it hard to adjust when going back home, but the more I linger there, the more it wraps me up in a warm embrace and the initially unpleasant scent somehow disappears. 

Scent is intimate. It lives on skin, clings to memory, and tells stories even we haven’t fully understood yet.

Mousse de Chêne 30 isn’t just Le Labo’s ode to Amsterdam, it’s an invitation to reflect, to root down, to remember. It’s proof that sometimes, the most personal stories aren’t told in words, but in the way something smells when it hits the air just right.

So if you ever find yourself wondering what your twenties smelled like, or what your chosen city sounds like in scent form, this might just be your answer. Or at least, a really good beginning.

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