Healthy and attractive human smells

Here are the scientists saying (roughly) some of the things I was saying in an earlier post about why we ought not to wash too much or take baths and showers too frequently, or use scented stuff in our laundry.

Baths and showers

A long while back I mentioned the idea that it's better not to wash too much. The thought is two-fold.

First, washing too much is unhealthy, and undermines the natural ways in which our skin and hair keep themselves protected against wear and tear and germs and things.

The second thought is that washing too much destroys our natural attractiveness to each other and prevents us from maintaining healthy relationships.

This is damaged partly by washing off the natural smells that make us attractive to other human beings, especially to bodies of the opposite sex and to our mothers and brothers and sisters and things. It's also damaged by putting on other non-human smells, especially the smells of soaps and shampoos and deodorants and other potions, which may seem pretty to us when we choose them in the shops but aren't actually very sexy as the smell of another person (as opposed to being delightful as the smell of a rose or a lily of the valley or a honeysuckle or a lavender flower; actually most of them don't seem to be any of those but some much worse artificial perfume which would be most distressing to find in a hedgerow). Hence the increasingly high divorce rate and frequent break down of intimate relationships. That's the thought.

And of course it's damaged in rather insidious ways by the clinging smells imparted to our clothes and linen by artificial perfumes in washing powders and fabric conditioners (about which I've written before). I have had several very miserable experiences recently of having to partake of a first rate meal, or even just a good homely meal, while sitting next to, or opposite, someone who smells like the vent from a college launderette. You anticipate a lovely meal of asparagus with garlic butter, with the delightful bouquet of a good wine under your nose. Instead you're constantly and repeatedly transported to that terrible aisle in the supermarket where they sell "laundry products": things that are obviously designed to appeal to people who naturally smell disgusting (I suppose. After all you wouldn't use those products if you smelled nice by nature, would you?)

The longer it is since we last used such artificially scented products ourselves the more intrusive it seems to become when one sits near someone who uses them, or when we have such a person in the house, and the more intolerable it seems. I suppose if you wear such clothes and sleep in such bedlinen you don't realise that the smell is coming from you, and that it's terrible to those who notice it. And I suppose you go around the world not realising that there are parts of the world that smell just lovely, by nature. Indeed there are some real people who have really nice smells too. Maybe some of those people under the horrible smelly clothes also would smell lovely, if you could only find out. And then you would like them and want to spend time with them, instead of longing to get away. I'm wondering whether to start a campaign to change all this by actually telling people that they smell horrid.

A third thought is that washing one's body too much and taking too many showers is wasteful. I'll come back to that.

The smell of clothes brought in from the washing line

Sometime last week the breakfast show on Radio Norfolk indulged in a bit of reflection on what are the nicest smells and the ones that make you say "ah" when someone reminds you. Listeners were invited to phone in. A number of "ah" smells were mentioned, including (some I remember) the smell of lighting a match, the smell of rain on hot tarmac, the smell of newly mown grass, and the smell of pigs. I forget what the excuse was, though it might have been the fact that the scientists at UEA have decided that they've worked out what causes the smell of the seaside.

One smell that was mentioned, which I also agree is very special, was the smell of washing when it is brought in from hanging in the garden. I mention this here, because it is a smell that can't be achieved any other way, and it's not obvious that it would strike you as a lovely smell if you hadn't learnt to associate it with a particular set of positive experiences. I also mention it because it bears no resemblance whatever to the acrid and pungent scents that those who market washing powders and fabric conditioners describe as "laundry fresh" or "sunfresh". In fact it is a rather mellow and blunt kind of smell, with no sharp edges.

It's not clear to me whether you'd get this wonderful pure smell of fresh air and clean cotton in your laundry if you'd washed it in the detergents and conditioners that have those powerful pungent artificial scents in, the ones that cling to the laundry both wet and dry. Indeed the conditioners seem designed precisely to do that: they are made deliberately not to wash out at all.

Sometimes if I buy second hand clothes it takes several washes to get rid of the terrible smells of other people's washing powders. even blowing in the garden is of no use at all. You can't wear a garment until that smell has gone. It drives you mad.

I'm not sure how some people live with the terrible smell of the clothes and sheets and pillow cases and towels and all that, if they wash them with those pungent products. I used occasionally to stand next to someone in the choir who must have washed her clothes in that kind of stuff. Fortunately she's left now, but even the incense was not enough to smother the acrid pong. I presume that if one lives with that smell in the house and one's bed and one's wardrobe all the time, the brain shuts it out and no longer finds it offensive.

But does it inhibit sexual attraction? More on this anon.

What does it mean to be green?

It means that when you could do something using a machine, or you could do it just as well or better without using the machine, you do it without using the machine.