Do YOU Like The Smell Of People?

Perfume.  This is an area much more suited to Lucy.  However, today, this is my topic.  It is my topic, as today it will become a mini science lesson, and a trip into the weird and wonderful.  A few weeks ago, I found an article in Metro.  For our  (few) international readers, Metro is a newspaper regularly left in the ticket areas of train stations, at the front of buses, and occasionally on seats / floors / racks of public transport for people to freely take, no charge, to give you something to do on your daily commute.  On this particular day, I was travelling to a college for an assessment, when I read this article.  An article on the smells of perfume.

Most people know what perfume smells of, I suppose. Flowers, musk, fruit,wood, earthy undertones and all that.  But why?  Why are these smells so attractive?  Well, according to this article, it is because they smell like us.  Our bodily smells.

Sandalwood is a fragrance I see everywhere.  I always thought it smelt like, well, you know, WOOD?  Turns out, yes, but no.  It actually smells sweaty.  Isn’t that nice?  One part of the article quotes a fragrance expert, Ms. Williams, who says that she went on a trip to ‘see and smell’ orchids, as she put it, and that ‘one orchid smelt like semen’.  Now, I can’t say I have ever noticed this, but generally, I do not go around smelling flowers, with hayfever and whatnot.  And it is not limited to orchids either.  Flowers that contain ‘indolic materials‘ have a smell not dissimilar to poo.  This is because, as the above link says, it is a naturally occuring component of faeces, but in low concentrations it has a flowery odour.  So essentially, my shit really does smell of roses.

So, we have that covered.  When you wear perfume, you smell like crap.  Sorry, but it’s the truth!  What other odd things go into perfume?

Most people know about ambergris, I imagine mainly because of THAT Futurama episode.  Ambergris is a solid mass of bile secretion, that is either spat up or pooed out, by sperm whales.  Intestinal tract fluids.  Yummy!  Real ambergris is expensive, at $20 a gram.  For comparison, the most expensive spice in the world, saffron is £3.50 for half a gram in Tesco.

Civet is a small wild cat.  It is also the name given in perfumery to the scent extracted from the glands of the same animal.  Glands being sexual organs.  Scent being pheromones.  You catch my drift . . . Musk is the same.  Basically, musk, the standard smell for old ladies round the country (and a Body Shop essential), is from deer.  I always wondered why I disliked the smell of musk, and now I know.  It is because I really do NOT like smelling like deer testicles.

Hyraceum, or African Stone, is the ‘fossilised’ urine of the south African dwelling Cape Hyrax, a type of big guinea pig.  The urine is dug up from the earth, and is meant to smell similar to a mix of various animal musks and tobacco.

And finally, artificial vanilla scents can be extracted from cow dung.  So, next time you are dousing yourself in Chanel No5, that godawful Calvin Klein fragrance I do so hate, that smelly one Lucy had that made me feel ill, or, for the boys, that can on Lynx you spray every ten seconds, please remember;

You still smell like crap, my dearies.



That What We Do At Night, With The Lights Off

Lucy and I met up Wednesday.  It was pissing it down outside,  I was running an hour late due to replying to emails, and I stopped to talk to a friend and go to the Post Office on the way.  We agreed to meet in Asda cafe, which turned out to be a good choice, as they had cheap coffee, and it was warm and dry.

Usual chit chat ensued, Uni, work, plans, our Scouse tutor’s wedding plans (and the PowerPoint presentations about them), people we both knew.  But then, our conversation took a sinister turn.  For me, anyway.

If I hadn’t been so hyped up on coffee, fake Red Bull and tiredness, i’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have done this in such a public place.  Especially as there was a family sitting behind us, and I was painfully aware that the daughter was under ten, and facing me, so she could probably hear every word I said.  And some of you know I am a massive prude in real life when it comes to my own activities.

We talked about The Sex.

That’s not what I actually call it.  I don’t actually call it anything in real life, as I generally don’t talk about it.  But we were there, and we were talking about it.  Stories  from our teenage years, and from Lucy, more recent years.  A boy, whom we shall call ‘C’.

C used to live in the same Halls as Lucy, when she lived in Compton.  He’d call her up for booty calls after his work as a DJ, to which she entertained him.  At the time, this was a great source of amusement for me, as she would come into class late, tired and refusing to divulge to our friend T.  When Lucy moved out to different Halls closer to the SAD (School of Art and Design), he still called her, expecting her to travel the three or so miles out of town to his, have some fun, and then be kicked out onto the street.  She no longer entertains this boy.  I do believe he is the same boy who brought his current ‘call’ to her flat and asked for a pizza.  Or something.

All this was fine, and i’d heard it before, until she said that he had said this –

“You’ll like it this time, Luce, i’ve got lube”

Cue the inane cackling of laughter.  What a chat up line.  Gold star, matey!

Which led onto my story.  My story also involves a person called ‘C’.  I can’t really divulge too much information as to who C is, as i’m massively embarrassed to have entertained such an idiot in my house.  However, I still think those close to me have their suspicions, and may even be able to put one and one together and figure it out.

When I was about . . . 14?  I know it was June, it was Shifnal carnival.  I was single.  Most definitely.  We had been drinking, My friend, her boyfriend P; and I don’t remember where C came into it, but he did.  To my house we went, and I left my friend downstairs with her boyfriend, as she never really got time alone with any of them unless she was at mine or theirs.  Me and C went upstairs to the spare room.

I didn’t plan to do anything with them, but I didn’t want to be in the same room as two people ‘getting it on’.  So we went somewhere else that wasn’t MY room.  C really was an ugly boy.  I didn’t plan to do anything with him, but we ended up getting round to it.  Then he asked THAT question –

“Do you want me to put it in you?”

What kind of stupid question is that?  NO I BLOODY WELL DON’T!  Up to this point, I think I hadn’t had anyone actually DO anything to me like that.  Not through lack of trying, but I was the ugly one in my group, and I was shy.  In fact, most of the time, it was my friends who set me up with people.  In that ‘my friend says she likes you’ kinda way.  I do remember on one of my birthdays, we were out on a under 18’s club night, and my friends were going around telling people it was my birthday and sending them my way :S Weirdest night ever, getting off with a gay male friend and a strange girl.  She was called Kimberley.  Never met her before, never met her again.

I said NO to C.  So he goes –

“OK, tell me when you’re done then.”

Um, WOW.

After a bit, I got bored and pained, said ‘yes’ to being ‘done’, and went downstairs to see if it was safe to go into my living room.

I do remember, the next day a group of us saw him in the street.  I ended up kicking him when he was on the floor, literally.  I don’t remember why, or what he said.  But he’d made me really angry.  And nobody could make any sense of my actions.

So that’s the story of my MOST EMBARRASSING EVER story.  All told in the middle of Asda cafe.  We’re so classy, yes?


This Weekend Was Fashionably Shocking!

LBD.  Little Black Dress.  It’s a fashion staple, a must in any wardrobe for the Friday / Saturday night out with the girls, but Friday night, I went through an experience that shocked my fashion knowledge.

In the club, on the dance floor (as per normal), and my mate (who I still love and like, it’s not George but a fellow Shrewsbury lady), dressed in a grey checkered workwear dress style dress, pulls a lad and smooch to match, whereas I, in my gorgeous LBD didn’t pull a single lad :(  Yes, I should be happy,  i’m a single girl!  Didn’t bat a eyelid as soon as I was dancin to B’s ‘Single Ladies’, I got girl power!  Still, it got to me bad, but not for long, say 10 mins maximum!  This means I either take drastic action on my next night out, wear a V neck, take the plunge and show it, or, go for a bright coloured dress. But im not, NO WAY, surrending to a grey checkered dress to be a Friday night ‘pull me’ dress!  THE LBD SHOULD WIN AND RULE!

Apart from that, I rode a bull in the club in my LBD so take that !!!!


Lucy xx