The Smell Factor


On a whole, (although I can’t speak for Paris Hilton and some of the sorority chicks I’ve met in my day), women are relatively intelligent. We have intense jobs, we run companies, we apply mascara while in cabs, on the phone while holding Starbucks… so one would assume that we would be able to choose whom we are attracted to, right? Apparently Dial…yes, the soap company, would rather not give us that benefit of the doubt.

Dial has created a bodywash for men that in infused with pheromones, the natural chemical our body produces to attract potential hook-ups and love interests. Everyone has his or her own special pheromone (not un-like Sex Panther, which works 60 percent of the time, every time). So, this begs the question…why are you screwing with our Sex Panther? Can’t a woman decide whom she’s attracted to on her own? Ahh! This is freaking me out on so many levels!

I used to work at a fashion magazine, where there was this delivery guy who was less than favorable to look at. Kind of fat, with a somewhat hairy gut that protruded over regulation pants that were way too small for him. Every day we all said no to crack when he bent over to pick up a garment bag. However… he smelled amazing. (This is so embarrassing.) I think he wore the same cologne my first boyfriend did, because every time he came to drop off some Wang (I know, that sounds weird) or pick up some Thakoon, I had a memory relapse back to kissing at my eighth grade locker and I would against my will sort of swoon. My point is… smell effs up a women’s attraction radar a bit to begin with. Maybe your landlord smells like cookies or something, and so you find yourself lingering at the door when he comes to fix your fridge. Sort of humiliating to admit, and yet you do it. (Right? Maybe?) I also refuse to date someone who smells like my dad…no offense to Dad, of course, you smell great, but you just want your boyfriend to smell like…a boyfriend.

So, Dial…please take into consideration not only our smell radar, but our hearts, too. Who do you imagine is going to be purchasing this fragrant bodywash, given it works at all? Either those skeevy club promoters who want to liquor you up at Tenjune in order to heighten their “I gotta get laid tonight” factor, or um…that delivery guy I mentioned earlier.

Ladies, picket Target. Let’s have a sit-in at Duane Reade. This is not a good idea.

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