Smell the look

While personal hygiene may seem second nature to most of us, there are many out there who insist on insulting your nostrils with a vulgar display of rotten cabbages. I have heard word through the vines that this “man-scent” is somehow appealing to a woman seeking a mate. Let us phrase it as such for it seems rather animalistic in nature. OMG YOU SMELL LIKE ROT AND NACHOS TAKE ME NOW. Ja, nee. I ventured out on campus today to buy some milk for I just can’t seem to stomach my coffee sans cow-juice. Spare me your judgement. Let us fight the vegan fight on another day. I walked past a beautiful lady-student; immaculate hair and make-up, lovely ensemble of the latest trend fresh off the rails of Foshini or Truworths or where-ever the masses are sourcing their threads from now. I describe her as a welcomed attack on the visual senses but what really caught my fleeting attention is the way she smelled. She smelled of haute couture, manicured nails and… and… RAINBOWS. It all came together wonderfully and for once in quite a few years of avoiding eye contact with anyone, my eyes fixated on her and and I flashed her a gap-toothed smile to banish the high-waisted skinny jeans right on off of her bootay. She returned the gesture and on some remote plane, in a galaxy far away, we were knocking boots and eating flowers. Sigh. I once knew a man who insisted that one has to “Smell the look”. It’s all well and good draping the cadaver in the finest of Gucci but beneath the cloth, the smell of death lurks. A lingering scent leaves a memory far removed from the actual visual onslaught. Moments can be perfectly captured in photos but this time a song manages to do so for me 🙂

 

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