A few weeks ago I was watching a movie with a guy friend, and you know how the little cup holders are right on the edge of the seats, between yours and the next one so that the person sitting beside you pretty much has to invade your personal bubble to take a sip of his soda – or ice lemon tea? Well, every time my friend stretches his right arm to grab his drink I get a whiff of his cologne and sweet mercy, it was one of the most intoxicating smells I’ve ever experienced. It wasn’t so strong that it assaults your nose and causes an overwhelming impact, but sensually subtle with a hint of spice and musk.
Now I’m an expert in neither perfumery nor bio-science, I don’t know why certain eau de toilette work better on some than others. I can only guess that the magic berries, fairy dusts and vanilla extracts form some sort of intricate little dance with the pheromone particles we secrete; and that the combination of said particles are unique to each human being. What smells irresistibly enticing to one person can be downright pungent to another.
So now, I’m sitting there half paying attention to Maleficent and half anticipating the next wave of that sexy, inebriating scent; and every time it hits all I can do is close my eyes, inhale deeply and hope he doesn’t notice a thing. This must be how Edward had felt about Bella that first day of Biology class, albeit sans the whole ‘I want to drink your blood’ debacle. Admittedly, I ended up playing furtive elbow/shoulder bumps for the rest of the film.
After he drove me home, I became obsessively curious about pheromones; enough to spend a couple of hours in front of my laptop with my trusty friend, Google. One article suggests that the “airborne compounds send signals about your moods, your sexual orientation and even your genetic makeup.” I find it fascinating that pheromones and our sense of smell can play such a central role to how attractive we find a certain individual.
Really, it’s one of the few weapons men can use against us girls (well, this girl at least). It’s like my kryptonite and not many guys know to exploit this sweet, sweet gift of theirs. Any guy, platonic or otherwise, whose smell can make me want to burrow my face in his neck, continue to trace down his jawline and slowly, but inevitably, proceed to his lips has gold stars all over his name in my book.