Apparently, I smell like a teenage boy.


Rub a dub dub, there’s nothing on Netflix.

I love baths, but not Bath and Body Works. It’s just not my thing. I don’t like to smell like food, it’s weird. But…sigh…since I’m a female and I live in America, I receive tons of this stuff every holiday: cookie-scented lotion, watermelon hand sanitizer, Santa Cinnamon butt wash. I don’t like to be wasteful, and I do sincerely appreciate the thought behind each and every gift I receive from anyone, so I use it. From December 24 until mid-March my skin, hair and hands smell like everything from Papaya to Coconut to baked goods. I think I’ve used every lotion and wash that company has ever put on the market. It’s not a bad group of products, but I prefer darker, muskier scents. I like Black Opium and Secret Obsession, and I’m the only person I know my age who wears Chanel No. 5. I like older, stronger smells.  I do not want to smell like a fresh little strawberry in a puppy’s mouth on a pink beach, I prefer to smell like a French prostitute who has been chain smoking Marlboro Reds all day.

So we’ve established I’m not a Bath and Body Works girl. At least, I wasn’t until two weeks ago when I was digging around in the bottom of one of my Christmas gift baskets. I came across this stuff, Lemon Zest Sugar scrub. It looked suspicious, but shorts season is approaching so I figured I could use it on my scary ashy knees. I usually make my own, if you’re interested you just mix coconut oil and white sugar with lemon juice and scrub away. It’s cheap, natural, and it works. A few times I felt fancy and put pureed ginger and orange zest in it but I don’t recommend that, it clogs up your tub drain with what looks like secret vomit in the pipes of a sorority house. Just a word of advice.


Okay, back to the point. Lo and behold, this was the most glorious thing I have ever smelled. It didn’t smell like lemons, it had some odd cologne-ish fragrance. The scent lasted all day, and it reminded me of something familiar and pleasant I couldn’t quite place. I wanted to spend all day smelling my elbows. I smelled so good I wanted to ask myself out to dinner and put a roofie in my own drink. Two friends and several people at work confirmed this as well…they sniffed me and said, “What are you wearing? That smells familiar.” I said, Bath and Body Works Energy scrub. They said, “No, that’s not it. What is that? I like it, I know that smell.” And they sniffed again.

After about ten days of using this stuff, today I solved the mystery. Or rather, my best friend did. He had consumed a few beers and was staring at me in an odd, petulant way.  Almost bitchy. “What’s your fucking problem, sister?” I hissed. His response: “Umm. Are you wearing that horrible 90s teenage boy aftershave? Drakkar?”

Holy crap. A lightbulb went off above my head and then shattered. That’s the smell. That is exactly what this stuff smells like. Like standing downwind of any cluster of males under 18 in high school. My first boyfriend pretty much took baths in Drakkar, and he was a lovely person, probably still is. Maybe that’s why I found the smell subconsciously comforting. It reminded me of being 16.

I’ve been walking around smelling like a teenage boy. For over a week. And you know what, I don’t think I care. In fact, I’ll buy another tub of this next time I’m at the mall, walking around. Smelling like a teenage boy.


About lyssalouhoo

Me doing stuff. Sometimes I travel, sometimes I cook, sometimes I write. I have a dog and a cat. I enjoy my own company. That's about it.
This entry was posted in bathing, beauty, cosmetics, wellness. Bookmark the permalink.

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