Goodness me, I had an e mail from the Tillers yesterday. I am sure you remember Vigne Bookshop It was our go-to place for years and years for library books. There was nothing quite like the delicious smell of an old Vigne library book.
Christian Vigne Bookshop was in Fife Street near the City Hall at first, but then they moved, as Vigne Bookshop, to further down Fife Street towards Famona.
The Tillers took us through the very bad years when there were few new books, certainly no Kindle and online books and so their little shop was very precious.
Subscriptions to the library were minuscule and Brian and Jill were always there to try and source a particular book for their customers.
When books became more available, new tomes trickled in but one could still pop in and immerse oneself in the that very poignant, rather musty aroma that only a bookshop can produce.
Every bibliophile knows it, loves it, craves it - the smell of a well-read book. It's so popular that you can even find old book-scented candles, but what creates that signature smell The answer is a little morbid, because what you're really smelling in the pages of old books is the scent of dying plants. After all, paper is made from plant fibres.
These can be derived from straw, bamboo, flax, and many other sources, but in the modern day, the most common material for paper by far is wood pulp. Since trees are living organisms, paper is an organic material, and as with all organic things, it decays as it ages.
Library fragrance smells like a combination of old paper, leather bindings, and a touch of wood polish. Usually, it gives an old, musty scent that's reminiscent of parchment, ink, and the subtle aroma of aged wood. Notes of leather add depth and richness, signifying well-worn reading chairs, while a hint of polish brings to mind wooden bookcases or even the library's parquet flooring. Sometimes, there may even be a slight vanilla-like sweetness to invoke the comfort of hours dedicated to peaceful, solitary reading. This unique aroma attempts to capture the tranquillity and the nostalgia evoked by old libraries.
Thank you to Jill and Brian Tiller for many hours of exquisite happiness as a result of your little bookshop.