Chapter 1: The Reality of Body Odor

Let’s get straight to the point: I have a noticeable scent.

While many might find it unremarkable, my particular aroma resembles that of onion soup. I can emerge from a hot shower, my skin radiant and glistening, with the mirror still foggy from steam — and yet, there it is: my smell.

This journey began around the age of twelve, coinciding with puberty, and is compounded by my hereditary hyperhidrosis — a condition shared with my mother and aunt, who also experience excessive sweating.

Throughout high school, my underarms became the focal point of my existence. Attending boarding school only intensified my fixation on controlling my odor. I would change outfits multiple times daily, applying various deodorants such as Secret and Teen Spirit, and when insecurity struck, I turned to Mitchum or Speed Stick for men. Their fragrances, ranging from Pink Crush to Mountain Air, often felt more chemical than comforting.

As I frantically typed papers in the computer lounge, sweat would cascade down my sides. After field hockey or lacrosse practice, I’d sneak into the dining hall restroom to scrub my underarms with soap, hiding behind a stall door. I even resorted to lining my shirt with paper towels, pinning them between my arms and body to combat the dampness. For special occasions like prom, I relied on an aluminum chloride antiperspirant prescribed by my doctor, which left my skin red and irritated. Yet, the discomfort felt justified; it was a small price to pay for control over my body.

My mother, burdened by her own past struggles, would often grimace at the car ride home, catching a whiff of my scent. She would inquire about my day, only to wrinkle her nose in dismay. “You have a strong odor right now,” she would say, while I gazed out the window, my response a mix of defeat and defiance.

The human body has two types of sweat glands: eccrine and apocrine. Eccrine glands are found across the body and secrete directly onto the skin’s surface, while apocrine glands congregate in areas rich with hair, such as the armpits and groin. When body temperature rises, the autonomic nervous system — which regulates functions outside of our conscious control — activates these glands. The sweat produced is odorless until it mixes with skin bacteria, which breaks down lipids into butyric and propionic acids, resulting in scents reminiscent of vinegar and onions, especially after puberty when we begin seeking romantic partners.

Why do I sweat more than others? Is it my love for garlic? My taste for chocolate? Spicy foods? Or perhaps my genetic makeup? The answer is likely a combination of all these factors. However, one thing remains clear: my odor is not a result of poor hygiene; it is simply part of who I am.

Despite the anxiety surrounding my reputation as “The Smelly Girl” in high school, I still engaged in plenty of awkward, exploratory sexual experiences — from the woods to the back of cars — and surprisingly, my scent didn’t deter my partners. I was diligent about my hygiene, treating my odor as a foe to be conquered, but it didn’t define my sense of identity or femininity.

When college came around, a shift occurred within me. I grew weary of masking my natural scent with products. I decided to embrace my smell as a form of rebellion against societal norms.

“You smell!” my friends would shout, laughing. “I know,” I’d reply with a smirk. “People aren’t meant to smell like Fiji Breeze; I smell like a human!”

Then came Louis and Arnold — two significant relationships back-to-back. Louis adored me but despised my scent. Over two years, he often voiced his discomfort, despite my attempts to manage my smell. By then, I had developed a healthier relationship with my odor, using natural deodorants and embracing a more socially acceptable scent.

In contrast, Arnold loved my smell. He would nestle into my armpit, breathing deeply and playfully demanding, “Give me a huff.” After a workout or a night out, I would jokingly flaunt my sweaty shirt before tossing it to him, and he would feign fainting from the odor. It felt fun and intimate, highlighting how crucial scent is to my identity and relationships.

However, this led to a pressing question: why did my smell appeal to Arnold but repulse Louis? What is the link between attraction and odor? What psychological factors influence our preferences for certain scents? Are pheromones a genuine factor in attraction?

To delve into these questions, I reached out to Dr. Michelle Marzullo, a professor specializing in human sexuality at the California Institute for Integral Studies.

Dr. Marzullo introduced me to Affect Theory, which posits that our experiences are shaped not only by narratives but also by non-verbal elements — such as mood, atmosphere, and feelings. She explained how these factors influence our sexual desires and behaviors, noting the complexity involved in understanding attraction due to the myriad of influencing variables.

Food and sex, she suggested, often intersect culturally, with our preferences evolving over time. For example, what was once considered delectable may change dramatically, influenced by cultural shifts and trends.

Dr. Marzullo also touched on the emergence of various kinks and their cultural underpinnings, using the example of the practice of bukkake in Japanese pornography, which arose from regulatory restrictions and has since become a widespread fantasy.

The Social Issues Research Center published a Smell Report that outlines the complex narrative surrounding body odor in Anglo-Euro contexts, detailing shifts from viewing scent as an indicator of disease to perfumes becoming a choice for aesthetic appeal.

Historically, the use of heavy animal-based fragrances was common, with women utilizing these scents to enhance their natural odor. This practice changed with advancements in hygiene, leading to a preference for lighter fragrances that didn’t raise questions about cleanliness.

In 2017, I found myself on the brink of moving in with Louis when my scent once again became a point of contention. One night, dressed in a pink crop top, I felt vibrant and alive, yet he remained distant, not touching me on the dance floor.

After a tense conversation, we found ourselves at Albany Bulb, where our disagreement escalated. Louis argued that he made efforts to attract me, so why shouldn’t I do the same? I retorted that my smell was an intrinsic part of who I am and shouldn’t be a source of embarrassment.

Despite his insistence that he loved me but wanted me to wear deodorant, I felt suffocated by the idea of conforming to his expectations. I spent the day making a homemade deodorant, convincing myself it was a necessary compromise.

At the wedding we attended afterward, I worried my scent would once again be a source of shame. Yet, in the photos taken that evening, we appeared joyful and carefree, highlighting the façade we often maintain in relationships.

The Smell Report indicates that scent preferences are deeply personal, often tied to specific memories. Certain universally liked fragrances, like vanilla, evoke pleasant feelings, while others can elicit disgust.

Dr. Marzullo reassured me that Louis’s aversion to my odor wasn’t a reflection of my worth but rather a complex interplay of biological and societal factors. She explained that while some hormonal signals might trigger attraction, the science behind pheromones is still inconclusive.

The renowned White T-shirt study illustrated how women’s preferences for male scents often depend on genetic compatibility. However, the nuances of how these preferences play out in male evaluations of female attractiveness remain largely unexplored.

Dr. Marzullo emphasized that attraction is influenced by a multitude of factors beyond mere genetics. Our environmental and cultural contexts shape our relationships with scents, significantly impacting our connections with others.

Ultimately, she highlighted the inherent risks of intimacy — being vulnerable and trusting another person during such a personal act. Yet, through our complexities, we find joy and pleasure, making the journey worthwhile.

Chapter 2: The Science of Attraction and Smell

The first video, "Human pheromones: are we the scented ape?" by Dr. Tristram Wyatt, delves into the scientific exploration of how pheromones influence human attraction and behavior.

The second video, "Science of Sex - Smell," investigates the intricate relationship between scent and sexual attraction, shedding light on cultural perceptions and biological factors.