The women of Twin Peaks: Before and Without the Darkness (A Scented Tribute)

March 6, 2025 will be the 49 day anniversary of David Lynch's passing. A lot of tributes have been posted since then, celebrating his many masterpieces. I didn't want to jump in just to strike while the topic was hot, so I waited until I had a chance to sit with my thoughts and write something I genuinely mean. So here, at last, is my tribute: a Twin Peaks perfume anthology of sorts. In many ways, scent is memory, and these characters deserve to be remembered not just for their tragedies, but for the essence of who they were before that or could've been if not for that.

I had ideas for many characters (Josie Packard x YSL Babycat? Yes.), but this piece had to unfold naturally, so I let the characters choose themselves. I didn’t want to force connections just for the sake of including everyone. In the end, it was the core group of women of Twin Peaks who most easily lent themselves to reveries about how they could be connected with perfume. What would they wear that would instantly tell you who they are?

The heroines of Twin Peaks are usually portrayed as symbolic of the darker truths behind a seemingly quaint, normal, and simple world they dwell in. As someone who thought and felt deeply about this story, the darkness that David Lynch wanted to bring to light was obviously not lost on me. I get that this story was about revealing dark things that had been hidden. I get that part of the point was to stop reducing people to easy, simplistic assumptions about who they were, and to really look further than the surface. I get that there’s darkness lurking everywhere, because we’ve all experienced it at some point or another.

But I also can't help but feel grief and injustice for the things that befell every one of these beautifully complex people. In light of all the well thought out, beautifully explained commentaries on the painful tragedy of Twin Peaks, I find myself always stifling the urge to say, "I know. They were utterly doomed and there was so much trauma...their lights were all snuffed out so unfairly...but the beauty in them wasn't only wrapped up in their pain, was it? Can't we just for a second celebrate who they were *before* the darkness took them away?"

Because I don't think anyone wants to be remembered only for their tragedy--tragedy isn't identity. These characters were people, and people deserve to be remembered for who they were, not what someone else tried to reduce them to.

So, this piece is about how the women of Twin Peaks may have wished to be seen and remembered. It’s about the life they must have dearly wished they could have had--or at the very least, it’s how I see them, had they not been brutalized and irreparably changed by the hands of others. This is the way our Twin Peaks friends could have been, and the way we all prefer to remember our real-life loved ones, no matter what it was that may haven taken them away. Because, we, who really loved them? We knew them.

1. Laura Palmer – Glossier: You

Laura Palmer was supposed to remain your best friend for life. She was supposed to be your favorite babysitter, who you'd one day run into and introduce to your own kids. She should've been the childhood sweetheart you married and grew old with. She was meant to have a normal, happy, stable life and just be, without the weight of so many secrets that weren’t hers to carry.

I know what you’re thinking: ”But Laura wasn’t that girl. That was the whole point. Did you even watch Twin Peaks?”

But hear me out:

Laura was that girl. Before the nightmare began, before the darkness crept into her life, that’s who she was. And more than anything, it’s who she wanted to be. Laura wasn’t born in shadows. She was supposed to be allowed the right to be happy, safe, healthy and OK. That wouldn’t have made her shallow, wouldn’t have made her simple. Trauma is not the only thing that makes a person complex. She would have been brilliant, beautiful, wise, and full of life even without her suffering.

The tragedy of Laura Palmer isn’t just that she was taken from the world, it’s that the life she should have had was stolen from her before she ever had a chance to live it. But she should also get to be seen as more than a mystery or a tragedy. She should have been allowed to be just a girl, not forever remembered as just the girl wrapped in plastic.

Yet, in so much of the Twin Peaks conversation, Laura’s suffering always becomes the defining element of who she is. And while the darkness is such a defining part of her story (as it is for all victims), it shouldn’t be all that we see. Laura Palmer deserved more than to be reduced to a symbol of pain. Her tragedy was the lost potential, wasn't it? And the way that other outside forces took over her story and turned it into one of suffering? That part isn’t what's romantic or beautiful—nobody enjoys being a martyr. So why is the tragedy all that we tend to see in Laura?

We can see the heartbreaking beauty in Lynch’s portrayal of it all, and that is undeniably beautiful. It reminds me of the sweet hippy in “I Love You, Alice B. Toklas,” who finds beauty in everything about life, including death. You have no idea how much I back that message…but when it’s real life, and it’s your Laura, everyone agrees it would’ve been better if the tragedy had never happened. I think, sometimes, that Lynch had such a tender and compassionate way of framing pain, that we almost get lost in the beauty of it.

And that's a kind of salve, a necessary band-aid…actually, I think it's love. I think he loved these characters so much that he didn't want to deny the beauty that was still a part of their story, even in its real and actual darkness. So I get that finding the beauty within the pain is more than just a way to cope and try to make lemonade out of the bitterest lemons. Showing us the painful beauty of suffering is an un-acknowledged and often denied truth about life that Lynch brought to light with deep compassion.

But because I'm selfishly sometimes overwhelmed by the injustices of these beloved character's circumstances, I'm indulging in a more brightly focused tone for this tribute.

And, so, that’s why to me, Glossier You is Laura's scent. Not something dark or sexy. Just warm, close, comfortable. It's the scent of someone who is real, who you recognize in your own life. With notes of musky amber, wood, and the soft, almost creamy touch of iris, it evokes the sense of someone familiar. It’s soft and gentle, just like that aspect of Laura that deserved to be seen and loved for its natural light, and not only the tragic darkness.

Glossier You smells like the girl you loved before you even realized it. The girl you missed before she ever went missing. It’s a warm, inviting hug in scent form. It's the familiar, clean smell of a girl's bedroom after she's just gotten ready to go out. It’s the normal, simple, totally OK part of Laura that should have been allowed to exist naturally. But we can still recognize it if we look past the tragedy and see her for the light she truly was.

You is that version of Laura who was allowed a life of peace and normalcy.

2. Audrey Horne – Hermès: Twilly d’Hermès

Audrey Horne wasn’t just the beautiful girl who everyone saw on the surface. She was a kind, deeply good soul, always willing to make sacrifices for love. Beneath her playful and sometimes chaotic energy was someone who would do anything for the people she loved. She wanted to be useful, seen, and loved.

Audrey’s coy sweetness wasn’t a game—it was her essence. She wasn’t trying to be coquettish. She just happened to be a knockout, but her goodness was the thing that made her truly irresistible. The real game was the one where she played the role of the sexy, dancing vixen.

Agent Cooper saw straight through that ruse. Clear as day, he saw, instead, her intelligence, kindness, and loyalty. And, of course, she fell head over heels for that validation.

The heart of Audrey was in her willingness to give, to love, and to be there for those she cared about, often without ever actually being seen or fully understood herself. She wasn’t seeking attention just for the sake of it, she was seeking love. And she deserved, like anyone does, but especially for the depth and goodness that was so obviously inside her. And while she may have seemed caught up in her own playful fantasies at times, that was just the shell. Inside, Audrey wanted to be seen, and, above all, to prove that she was worthy of love.

Hermès Twilly d’Hermès isn’t the immediately sexy scent you’d think Audrey wore. Instead, it captures her irresistible sweetness perfectly—the joyful, free spirit that would run barefoot in the rain, laughing, clutching her heels just to meet you for a picnic lunch in the grass. Its lively opening of ginger and fresh bitter orange mirrors Audrey's playful side, while the rich, floral tuberose and sandalwood at its heart reveal a woman with more depth than meets the eye—warm, grounded, and full of soft complexity. The fragrance is fresh, yet also enveloping, as if it's both lighthearted and deeply personal.

It’s the scent of a girl who is playful and fun, but with an undercurrent of something deeper. Audrey Horne was someone willing to give, sacrifice, and offer love in ways that others might never fully understand. Twilly is the fragrance of a girl who would grow up to be a bombshell, yes, but who was always so much more than just her appearance.

Audrey’s true magic wasn’t in her physical beauty, it was in her unshakable kindness, gentle heart, and willingness to give all of herself. Twilly d’Hermès embodies the girl who lived to make others smile and would stop at nothing to show love…and who would have loved to be truly loved herself.

3. Donna Hayward – Ralph Lauren: Lauren

Donna Hayward was the best friend you planned to raise kids with, be each other’s maid of honor, or maybe just go to college together and work at a boutique, sharing a tiny apartment with too many candles and too much wine. She was steady, loyal, and always there. She was the kind of friend you swore you’d never drift away from.

But Laura was slipping through her fingers, into something Donna couldn’t fully see or understand—something deeper, darker, unreachable. And Donna, in that restless, lonely space where so many teenage girls find themselves, was left watching. The brightest light in her life was burning out, and she didn't realize at first that the glow she admired wasn’t something to aspire to. It was a fire being suffocated. Laura wasn’t radiant because of her pain, her pain was consuming her.

Donna wanted to grow up, to be independent, to be dazzling like Laura. Except she could never quite let herself fall fully into the abyss. She didn't realize, at first, that it was better that way.

Donna’s scent is Lauren by Ralph Lauren. A soft, fruity, floral chypre with its crisp green top notes, delicate rose and jasmine heart, warm oakmoss and a sandalwood base. It’s refined, feminine, and effortles. It's the kind of scent that lingers on the sweater you borrow from your best friend. It’s neither overly innocent nor dangerously seductive, but something in between.

Lauren is for the girl who was always a little more responsible, a little more careful, the one who wanted to follow, but never quite stepped over the edge. It’s for the friend who stayed, even when she wasn’t sure how to, and for the woman who grew up with an arsenal of depth and experience that wasn't necessarily always gained firsthand, but was, rather, the result of watching over someone else. Lauren beautifully captures the familiar, protective warmth of a classic chypre, but is rescued from the depths of austerity by a citrusy pineapple note that also radiates an easy smile when you need it most. For Laura, Donna tried to provide a steady self assurance and stability, even when the earth was quaking around then. Although she may have stumbled, she held on with strength and grace. A lot of chypre scents are dismissed as too safe, mature or conservative, but just like Donna, Ralph Lauren's Lauren has plenty of sweet, bright and optimistic fruit notes that manage to surprise you with their sense of refined youthfulness and a feeling of stable, pretty elegance.

4. Norma Jennings – Frédéric Malle: Lipstick Rose

Norma Jennings deserves Lipstick Rose. It’s the Norma that Ed sees. It's not the perfume of the kind, steady woman in the Double R Diner, but a dazzling star. It’s the Norma that even Norma can see when she looks through Ed’s eyes, which is why she's still in love with him.

One of the only times she allows herself to feel like something beyond just the woman who feeds Twin Peaks and mothers Hank, is when she sees her beauty and worth reflected back at her by Ed Hurley.

Even if their love is impossible for so achingly long, Norma bears it with grace, dignity, and unwavering respect for herself and everyone else involved. She is the ultimate example of “elegance under war”, a phrase from Maki Nomiya that I once associated with Lipstick Rose’s glamorous scent, with its strength in self-expression and under difficult circumstances. But the true embodiment of that phrase is Norma.

The kind of energy it must have cost her to maintain such poise while having to step aside and see her true love all over town, year after year, while trying to remain unfazed, is extraordinary. The restraint, the quiet suffering, and the way she never let it turn bitter. Frederic Malle’s Lipstick Rose is fragrance that wears its glamour like armor, its romance with self-respect, and its powdery elegance with unwavering strength. It's perfect for what Norma carries every day.

And because of Hank's manchild ignorance of what he had in Norma, I’m replacing that song, just for this post, with I Picked a Flower, by Jarvis Cocker and The Pastels.

Sorry, Hank. Ed picked this flower.

5. Shelly Johnson – Versatile Paris: God Bless Cola

Shelly reminds me of someone I knew a long time ago. That simple, effortless beauty--50k watts of smile that radiate pure laughter and fun. She ends up in situations where she never should've even dared tread. Every time, just like a moth to a flame.

But Shelly wasn't made for the life of struggle and fading into the background that she got stuck in, and it's only Gordon Cole who sees this -- or rather, hears it.

Gordon suddenly experiences something miraculous when Shelly speaks:

He can hear her.

No shouting, no hearing aids, no struggle. Her voice cuts through, perfectly clear.

And Gordon doesn't only see a waitress at a small town diner, he sees an absolute firecracker of a girl that blows him away the minute she opens her mouth.

For years, Shelly has been dismissed, used, ignored, trapped in a cycle where she gives love and care to people who don’t listen to her. But then Gordon Cole, of all people—the man who literally cannot hear—hears her.

And isn’t that what Shelly always wanted? Not just to be loved, but to be truly seen and heard?

Because here’s the truth: nobody ever really hears Shelly.

Leo never heard her, he only controlled her.

Bobby never really heard her, he just loved the idea of saving her, but as soon as reality set in, he lost interest.

Gordon’s sudden ability to hear Shelly isn’t just a comedic quirk. It’s a small, almost magical affirmation that she is special, that her voice matters, that someone is listening to her—really listening—maybe for the first time in her entire life.

And the beauty of it? Gordon doesn’t want anything from her.

Shelly, with her sweet, sparkling, magnetic charm, is Versatile Paris' God Bless Cola. Its slightly spicy juiciness is the closest to a realistic cola scent that I've yet to find—just like Shelly's refreshing beauty is the first real breath of fresh air that Gordon's ears have ever been knocked into action by.

It brings a comfortable, casual and familiar magic, like a newly snapped open bottle of soda on a hot day. It's a lot like the somehow thirst-quenching relief and the magical jolt of sharpened senses that Gordon hears in Shelly's voice.

While God Bless Cola doesn't quite have the effervescent aspect of a real soda, the toasty caramel and vanilla notes hit the nail on the head for something like a vintage cola scent. It screams Double R Diner. There's also a layer of warm, buttery popcorn that adds so much fun to this fragrance. You'll find it hard not to imagine scenes of late night cinemas, with their deep red carpets, upholstery and drapery all covered in shadows and dim lights--a suburban alternate universe of the Red Room, where Shelly goes out on double dates and lives a much easier life.

God Bless Cola, even in its title, insinuates the hit of happiness and relief in enjoying a simple pleasure. To feel thunderstruck by such a small, pure thing as a soda is a lot like the arrow that catches in Gordon Cole's heart whenever he hears the voice of this overlooked diamond who serves him pie and coffee, smiling and completely unaware of why on earth she has such an effect on this man.

And for one small, fleeting moment, Shelly Johnson isn't just finally heard--she is magic.

————

All of David Lynch's characters are magic. The residents of Twin Peaks are, so much so that we feel like we know them. We love them, we see ourselves and our loved ones in them. We became deeply invested in their lives. This is just my small tribute to some of them. It's my way of remembering them the way I would if they were my sister, my friend or my mom. I hope it let's you see them in a brighter light, too, like the one they all carried somewhere deep inside, and the one David Lynch wove so magically into all the lives he touched with his art and his famous ability for kindness. Once something like that touches you, it's never really gone. It changes you and it'll always be there, behind your eyelids and in other surprising places, waiting to be found in beautiful and mysterious ways.

Thank you for being, DL.