Apparently, smelling like everyone else is the new definition of individuality.
A while ago, I wrote about my misophonia.
How certain sounds can drive me absolutely insane. The chewing, the swallowing, the enthusiastic drinking.
Well, apparently my ears weren’t enough.
Now my nose has joined the party.
And unlike most parties, this is one I would very much like to leave.
I Can Smell You Before You Arrive.
I’m serious.
My sense of smell has become ridiculously sharp. I can smell people from a distance. I notice changes in people’s natural body scent. Sometimes I genuinely feel like I can smell their hormones.
And perfume?
Oh, perfume.
I can smell that through a closed door.
A CLOSED DOOR.
Someone walks past my office and suddenly I’m sitting in what feels like the fragrance department of an airport duty-free shop.
Except I didn’t go shopping.
I didn’t ask for a sample.
And I certainly didn’t request the full experience.
But It’s Expensive, Darling.
Here’s where things get interesting.
We have one of those beautiful, expensive stores around here. You know the type.
Luxury skincare. Hair products. Exclusive fragrances. Beautiful packaging. Even more beautiful prices.
The kind of store where buying something almost feels like joining a private club.
And apparently, that’s exactly the point.
Because once a certain product becomes fashionable, suddenly everyone needs it.
Not because they necessarily love it.
But because it’s the thing to have.
The right brand.
The right bottle.
The right shopping bag.
The right scent.
Congratulations.
You’ve successfully purchased the same individuality as everyone else.
And now the entire office smells like it.
I’ve Never Been Good at Following the Crowd.
Maybe this is where my personality becomes slightly inconvenient.
I’ve never understood the obsession with doing something simply because everyone else is doing it.
If something becomes ridiculously popular, my first instinct isn’t to buy it.
It’s to walk in the opposite direction.
Not because I want to be difficult.
Although, admittedly, I’m quite good at that.
But because I genuinely don’t understand why popularity should determine personal taste.
I love beautiful things. I appreciate quality. And I certainly have nothing against spending money on something you genuinely enjoy.
But there’s a difference between having taste and buying a personality.
Expensive doesn’t automatically mean elegant. Popular doesn’t automatically mean good. And exclusive doesn’t automatically mean interesting.
Sometimes it just means you’ve paid a lot of money to smell exactly like the person sitting next to you.
Only louder.
Your Perfume Has Entered the Meeting. You Haven’t.
What really gets me is the quantity.
One spray? Fine.
Two? Whatever.
But some people seem to approach perfume as though they’re trying to meet a minimum spending requirement.
Spray.
Spray.
Spray.
And just in case someone on the other side of the building missed it…
One more.
By the time they arrive at work, their fragrance has already attended three meetings and introduced itself to the receptionist.
And then there’s me.
Sitting at my desk, wondering how a smell managed to travel through a closed door.
Honestly, at this point, I don’t even need to check who’s in the office.
My nose has already done the attendance list.
Should I Tell HR That Everyone Stinks?
Now, obviously, I work in a professional environment.
And diplomacy is generally appreciated.
So walking into HR and announcing that the building smells like an overpriced department store probably isn’t the smartest move.
“Good morning. I’d like to raise a concern.”
“Of course. What seems to be the problem?”
“People are wearing personalities in bottles, and mine doesn’t agree with them.”
I can already imagine the silence.
So instead, I do what every responsible professional does.
I smile.
I continue working.
And silently question every life decision that led me into a room with someone wearing half a litre of luxury fragrance.
If I Mention Your Perfume, It’s Not Necessarily a Compliment.
This might be the most useful information I share today.
If I say, “Oh, I can smell your perfume,” please don’t immediately light up with pride.
Because there is a very real possibility that I’m not complimenting you.
I’m simply trying to find a socially acceptable way of saying:
“Your perfume is currently occupying more space than you are.”
And yes, I know.
You probably think you smell amazing.
Maybe your friends told you so.
Maybe the sales assistant assured you it was their bestseller.
Maybe TikTok convinced you that this particular fragrance is the secret to becoming irresistible.
Wonderful.
But I regret to inform you that my nose didn’t receive the marketing campaign.
To me, you stink.
Not necessarily because your perfume is bad.
But because I can practically taste it.
Maybe I Just Don’t Like Being Told What to Like.
And perhaps that’s the bigger issue.
The older I get, the less patience I have for trends that everyone follows without questioning.
The must-have products.
The must-visit places.
The must-wear brands.
The expensive things we’re apparently supposed to admire because someone influential told us they’re worth admiring.
I’ve spent enough of my life figuring out what actually works for me.
I eat differently. I think differently. I make choices that don’t always fit the popular narrative.
And I’m perfectly comfortable with that.
I don’t need a label, a trend or an expensive bottle to tell me who I am.
And I certainly don’t need to smell like half the population to feel like I belong.
First My Ears. Now My Nose.
Since changing my lifestyle, I’ve noticed that my senses seem more intense.
My hearing changed. My sense of smell became sharper. Whether that’s connected to my diet, sensory processing or something else, I can’t say for sure.
But I do know that what other people barely notice can sometimes feel overwhelming to me.
And just like with my misophonia, it’s not something I can simply switch off.
Which makes modern life rather interesting.
Apparently, I’m now surrounded by people I can hear eating from across the table and smell arriving from across the building.
Fantastic.
But here’s the thing.
You don’t have to be loud to be noticed.
Not with your voice.
Not with your clothes.
And certainly not with your perfume.
Sometimes a little less makes a much bigger impression.
So wear what you love. Buy what you genuinely enjoy. Spend your money however you please.
Just don’t confuse popularity with personality.
And please, for the love of everyone sharing your oxygen…
Put the perfume bottle down.
You’ve sprayed enough.
With love, from the woman who can smell your expensive personality through a closed door.
