Painfully shy, Aftel would only interact with Cohen via correspondence. For two decades, she dodged his many invitations to meet. Only when he lay dying of leukemia did she relent. "He was just so kind and generous about me and my work," she remembered of their meeting. "I was so scared, I wanted to leave right away, but he said, 'I have a new song. Would you like to hear it?' I kept thinking, 'Don't start crying!' So, he played it for me, and it was unbelievable, and he just went on until he had played the whole album. And, I just don't have words for what a transcendent experience love is."

— Perfumer Mandy Aftel talks about her friendship with Leonard Cohen, and many other perfume matters including her fragrance Memento Mori, in A perfumer's obsessive quest to recreate the fragrance of lost love at Salon.

Skeptical? Smell for yourself. In one corner of the museum, Aftel has set out synthetic versions of jasmine, rose and vanilla alongside their natural counterparts. To my nose, the synthetic scents all feel familiar — the vanilla recalls Bath & Body Works lotion, or a Yankee Candle, while the rose wafts a harsh, chemical-laced note that suggests a cleaning product. Smelling the natural versions is like the olfactory version of removing a cataract from your eyes and suddenly seeing the world in vivid color...

— The San Francisco Chronicle goes to Mandy Aftel's Archive of Curious Scents in Berkeley, California. Read more at Mandy Aftel’s perfume museum seduces with whale vomit and other curious scents.