Lotion, shampoo, hair-gel or food?
That is the question that plagues me on a daily basis as I enter my bathroom and get myself ready for the world. That is the question that I am obsessed with asking when I smell that which makes my stomach rumble. That is the question that fills my head as I smell my beloved coconut and my hunger takes hold.
Yet what I should be asking myself first, before jumping off the ingestion-bandwagon is… Is what I’m smelling lotion or shampoo or hair-gel or food?
I should not feel the urge to ingest my coconut-smelling shampoo and conditioner. I should not want to gulp down the peach scented lotion I spread across my arms. I should not think of how to garnish my mango-smelling hair gel and I should not be thinking of what wine goes best with my raspberry-scented body wash. I should not lick my lips at the first sniff of licorice wafting forth from a bottle of after-shave nor should my stomach rumble at the moment I inhale a strawberry/passionfruit menagerie from your lipstick container nor should I giggle as my hunger pangs dissipate the minute I smell that kiwi-scented room spray.
Is what I’m smelling lotion or shampoo or hair-gel or body wash or lipstick or after-shave or room spray or deoderant or candles or food? And if you know the answer can you tell my stomach, because it is the most confused organ in my entire body.
Perhaps the better question is, why must products smell so much like real food items that they make us hungry? Why must bathroom products smell more like food than the food itself? Why must we be faced with the idea of food while we are not eating, but trying to better ourselves and improve our appearances? What’s wrong with keeping these scents to things we do not want to eat?
Here’s a perfect example: I do want to eat coconuts but I do NOT want to eat rainforest flowers. I do want to eat peaches but I do NOT want to eat the freshness of snow capped mountains. I do want to eat kiwis and passionfruits and licorice and raspberries but I do NOT want to eat things like the ocean breeze or drink things like liquid from a mountain stream. And while I would like to eat bananas and pineapple I do NOT want to eat fresh moss or drink the remaining winter rain.
Now do you see? Now do you understand?
When I walk into the bathroom I do not want to feel the need to ingest food items. When I rub a white stick under my arm, I do not want to feel the urge to take a bite out of the monolithic stick of hygiene. When I rub a washcloth over my body I do not want to ring the remnants out into my mouth nor do I want to open my mouth wide as shampoo drips across my face. These are urges that I wish could be stopped, but yet they are ones I have no control over as long as companies keep making hygiene products that smell like foods I want to eat.
What started with scratch and sniff stickers has become a multi-million dollar industry.
And so I ask shampoo makers to return their products to the days of Prell, when shampoo looked like medicine and smelled even worse. I would like to ask deoderant makers to stick to National Geographic locales as the inspiration for their scents. I would like candle makers to re-think the fruity flavors and go with candles that smell like the kind of wax you put in your mouth come Halloween time. I would like to ask the hair-gel folks to stop making hair-gel that makes me want to eat my head (which happens to be filled with Peppermint Patties) and instead go back to the flourescently-colored, antiseptic smelling liquids, gels and foams. Can we do this?
And do this quickly?
I have a shower to take, and I’m really damn hungry.