Beauty closet, Burt's Bees hand creme

This little glass jar of hand cream smells so like banana cream pie I can taste it, and the texture is thicker than thick; it is absolutely irresistible. (Cream pies were a genre unavailable to me as a child, so they possess a very specific glamour, showcased as they invariably were in those rotating electric pastry cases. Something about the juxtaposition of the fresh banana slices with the alluring, never-proffered pudding stuff underneath made the banana especially desirable.)

So this cream would mesmerize me no matter what, but I wouldn't actually wear it were it not for the following truly miraculous quality: The second it sinks in, the banana scent retreats—completely. No cloying I'm-trapped-in-a-bakery fragrance trail. You're left with nothing but plump, hydrated skin—and the powerful urge to open the jar again.