DISCLAIMER: Scent presents a very broad topic, so I am quite severely limiting this discourse to much more narrow confines. In fact, I recently looked up something I had remembered from Faulkner’s The Sound and the Fury that had to do with a particular scent-related sentence (ow, pun power), and as I skimmed through the book for the phrase I wanted, I realized that almost the entire novel has to do with smells. If William Faulkner was preoccupied by the sense of smell, then we should have a pretty good clue as to how much power certain scents have over us…
ANNOUNCEMENT: First, before really writing anything thoughtful, I declare that I am going to lobby Amazon to change the name of Whole Body (part of the Whole Foods franchise) to Wholfactory Body. Anyone who has been to Whole Body knows exactly what I am talking about and why I am beginning this campaign. Any support in my efforts to reach Amazon would be welcome.
Next, while I appreciate invention, especially well-intended invention geared to helping us mitigate the chaos (and fallout therefrom) of life around us, I have a problem with one such invention. This would be Febreze. Poor Febreze. I am assuming the product’s goal involves protecting the innocent from 1) overripe trash; 2) cooking-gone-wrong smells; 3) bathroom indelicacies; 4) pet residue — among many, many more olfactory offenses.
However, a couple of basic problems undermine the entire Febreze raison d’être. For one thing, Febreze itself is a nasal assailant. Good god, that stuff is strong. However, it has passed certain consumer tests, I guess, as it has inveigled itself into a ton of other products other than just aerosol anti-odor sprays. I find it in trash bags, laundry detergent, and many other cleaning products that boast the “Fresh Scent!” that Febreze-to-the-Rescue offers. I have fallen for these tactics and bought a few products coated in the Febreze formula. Those products came into the house for all of 24 hours at most, and then went straight to the bin. The smell — well, Faulkner would have had a field day with it.
Another problem with Febreze, that may not entirely be Febreze’s fault, stems from its fundamental raison d’êtrethat I mentioned, above. Why do we have Febreze? To create our own household Wholfactory Body? I don’t think so. I have dashed in and out of Wholfactory Body enough times to know that I do not want a house radiating — à la nuclear fallout — strong perfume/soap smells. Febreze’s basic purpose is to fix something that has gone wrong. Inevitably, when the nose catches a whiff of Febreze (or a gale of it, more likely), the brain receives a signal. Not the “Aaahhhh, what a fresh smell!” signal, either, but “I smell Febreze; what died?” signal. Which, in turn, leaves us uneasy, leery — what’s underneath the cover-up? That smell is part of a conspiracy to mask something terribly amiss.
For example, have you ever gone house-or-apartment hunting, and immediately, as you cross the threshold of the space for rent/sale, you get a blast of Febreze? Has that smell ever made you think, “Good start; the place smells great”? Probably not, I am guessing. More likely, once you cross over into the Febreze forcefield, you stiffen and think, “Clear and present danger.” You know that somewhere in that apartment/dwelling lurks an ongoing smell problem. You may not know what it is, but if it is bad enough for the realtor or seller to whip out the Febreze, that particular dwelling is going to stay on the market for a long time.
And while I am on the topic — and also to point out that Febreze is not alone in this semi-defamation-of-character rant — I think the same issues pervade (pun party!) the “scented candle” phenomenon. A few years ago, scented candles were really popular. I daresay a lot of us went into gift-y stores and enjoyed picking up the candles and sniffing them, checking out the different smells. Do you remember doing this? I totally went after the enticement of candles titled “By the Sea” or “Warm Vanilla” or “Wildflowers in Spring.” However, the popularity of these products seems to be on the decline. Hm. I wonder why. Could it be because, once lit, those things do not smell so good? The “Smell of Christmas” turns into the coughing-fit-of-Christmas? Well, if you are one who, these days, sees scented candles in a shop and passes them by with a “Hmph,” join the club. Even better, if you are one who enters a house decorated with scented candles, you wonder, again, if your host may have a rodent or plumbing problem.
As ever, I really hate complaining (is that evident, ahem?), and I do not like attaching my personal, negative vibes to other people’s enjoyment of whatever-it-is that I happen not to like. However, I write about Wholfactory Body, Febreze, Scented Candles and a host of other things because, I get this (pun alert) sense that I am not the only one who has at least a suspicious reaction to a “THIS SMELLS GOOD” situation. Perhaps I am paranoid. Whatever the case, if you are within a block of Wholfactory Body anytime soon, just check the air around you….
