When I was a little girl in the early ‘90s, I spent a lot of time hanging out in the home of an old woman named Alyce, a distant relative who was something of a second mother to my mom. I loved padding across her plush cream-colored carpet, admiring her knick knacks, and breathing in the trail of rich, spicy amber scent that was unmistakably “Alyce.” Her signature fragrance was Estée Lauder’s Youth Dew—a scent that, despite being a remnant of the ‘50s, played a crucial role in my future fragrance palate.
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