Follow Your Nose

Paradise Lost by William Blake circa 1807 PD-art

Paradise Lost by William Blake circa 1807 PD-ART

I’m a Libra, and if there’s one thing I’m always sure of, it’s my sense of smell.  I have been both blessed and cursed with a heightened olfactory nerve.  I don’t buy anything I don’t smell first.  And when it comes to men, well they have to pass the sniff test too.  I once, (okay twice), stood up a man because I didn’t like his smell.  I just couldn’t bring myself to go out with him, and couldn’t quite bring myself to tell him it was him, not me.  I always attributed this to my quirky Libra traits, until awhile back when I watched a documentary explaining that our genetic match is influenced by our sense of olfaction.  Finally a legitimate excuse for breaking up with someone.

Recently, a woman from California, (of course), had decided to stick her nose into other people’s dating lives, by setting up what she calls pheromone parties. Judith Prays, who came up with the idea, did so after several failed attempts at online dating.  She arranged these pheromone parties in L.A. and recently in New York.  Singles attending were instructed to sleep in a tee-shirt for three days, then stuff it into a ziplock bag and place it in the freezer, only to be reopened at the party.  Bags would be labeled blue or pink and be given a number to help match scent to sniffer.  Each party goer would have a chance to sniff their choice of colored bags and decide which scent suited them most.  I guess it was more polite than going around sniffing each others asses right?

So was this just an eclectic bunch of fellow Librans like myself riding the latest wave in match making, or are there cold, hard facts to support this new dating sensation.  According to olfactory research, there are facts to back this up.  We have these genes called MHC genes that are important for the immune system.   Female humans, (fish and mice), are able to get a whiff of these genes when looking for a potential mate, and it’s those MHC genes, different from our own, that we prefer.

Women seem to dominate when it comes to their sense of olfaction, and this is especially true during ovulation.  Women are like transformers at this time of the month.  Our faces become prettier, our bodies become hornier, and our noses are just waiting to suck in the odor of our ideal genetic match.  It’s like the perfect baby making storm, and men don’t realize it’s their fruit we’re looking to pluck.  I can guarantee you this was the formula for how my first child was conceived.: New Years eve + ovulation+ alcohol+ fine smell’in man+ alcohol+ ovulation= holy crap, I’m having a baby!!

Once we’ve conquered our genetic match, and spawn our superior progeny, we women are also able to clearly identify our biological offspring by their body odor.  We are olfactory superhero’s.

But, even though I’m a smellers biggest fan, I’m not sure if I were single, that I would want to spend my night sniffing t-shirts in a bag.  Call me old-fashioned, but I still like the idea of meeting the man before meeting his shirt.  I like sitting together at the bar, having a drink while leaning in real close to talk into his ear over the loud music and discover for myself the chemistry that either has me sniffing around for more, or has me and my nose, running like a bad cold.

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