If I close my eyes and smell an old, slightly stale bottle of Estée Lauder’s Intuition or Big Red chewing gum, I am transported back to October 19, 2002 and the night my husband and I had our first date (and I began to fall in love). I recall what he was wearing, what I was wearing, and, most remarkably, I remember the way that I felt—that utterly hopeful, joyous, and alive sensation that perhaps only first and new love found in youth can evoke and that as we grow older sometimes only fully return to in our subconscious world of dreams, away from the realities of adulthood and parenthood, etc.
Likewise, nothing floods me with more clear and endearing remembrances of our beloved Boxer and first baby, Guardian, than breathing in his scent—a mixture of cheesy popcorn paws and adorable, though some might just say “stinky,” dog aroma—left on the inside of his leather collar. Though we lost him over eight years ago, with one inhalation, I effortlessly recall him in more concrete ways than I do when looking at a photo or video of him. I recollect specific moments—how he followed me up and down stairs as I put away laundry, into the bathroom for a pee, and how he sat with me after I dropped a glass bowl on my toe and couldn’t even walk to the phone. I remember how much I love him and miss his playfulness, loyalty, calming presence, and endless patience with the antics of a wild little boy who could command the wildest of wild things.
Our senses connect us to the world and help us create vivid memories and to recall moments in time, and, indeed, science has long proven that no sense is stronger for us humans than our sense of smell. Studies have revealed that mothers prefer their own offsprings’ scent to others, even during their more odiferous stages of puberty, and that an older sibling’s jealous impulses may be allayed and a bond more quickly made by inhaling a new baby’s pheromones, released at the crown of the head. Research even suggests that women have the ability to smell genetic coding that would allow them to pick a mate perceived as most suitable for reproductive purposes.
With our noses leading the way, it’s unsurprising that “the business of fragrances is booming,” with the rich and famous putting their names on glass bottles of perfume and cologne (J Lo’s “Glow,” Beyoncé’s “Heat,” David Beckham’s “Instinct,” etc.) that, with their gimmicky names, promise beauty, sex appeal, and overall success to the wearer.
Companies have even used, as a business strategy, “scent marketing” to strategically “trigger” “scent associations” and, thus, certain behaviors and emotions with the hope that consumers will enter a building, stay longer, spend more, and come back. And, in many cases, these chemical concoctions are correlated with exactly those desired behaviors. According to Business News Daily, hotel chains, airlines, and even Disney have created “signature scents” that clients can expect and rely on. And, they come back with their wallets filled, ready to spend more.
Of course, scents and scent producers can come in many types and are used for different purposes (business and individual), ranging from perfumes and colognes, liquid plugins, gel and wax burners, incense, essential oils, potpourri, scented detergents and cleaners, and health and beauty products.
Though the scents may seem appealing and, for some, do a good job of covering up our “less desirable” human odors, many of them are highly toxic to our bodies and environments and make being in spaces where such chemicals are present intolerable to people who suffer from Idiopathic Environmental Intolerance (IEI) or Multiple Chemical Sensitivity (MCS). Environmental Intolerance can begin “rapidly or gradually” and usually happens “when a person with certain risk factors is exposed to a particular chemical or, more frequently, a mixture of chemicals.” Many times, the triggers are synthetic chemicals, but exposure to molds or Lyme disease has been known to “injure and sensitize the immune and/or nervous systems” in ways that “render individuals intolerant to subsequent exposures of those chemicals at concentrations that don‘t bother most people in the same way.” As a result, such individuals can experience symptoms that are “disabling” and undergo “great suffering” during exposures, “forcing them to withdraw from virtually all social spaces” (recognitioninclusionandequity).
My family and I have experienced firsthand the difficulty of escaping such chemical scents, which has made our involvement in many activities nearly impossible and our search for housing a darkly humorous series of unfortunate tales.
When our son Milo was five, he attended a local dojo for ninjutsu classes. He quickly showed a proclivity for martial arts that made him stand out among his peers and those more advanced in belts, and so we began to take him five days per week since he was motivated to practice, advance, and receive badges. During his lessons, my daughter (interested in taking classes herself as soon as she reached the required age of three) and I would sit and read or watch the participants. After some months, however, Milo developed a chronic cough, and our daughter was diagnosed with reactive airways and had asthma attacks that required breathing treatments and ER visits for what to others would be minor colds or viruses. I remembered the incense sticks that were constantly burning at the dojo, and I began to research health effects associated with them, of which there are many. I immediately reached out to the owners of the dojo and requested that they cease all use of incense. Though they begrudgingly agreed to try essential oils, which would seem a safe and non-toxic (and even healthy option, we are told by Whole Foods and other good folks we trust!) alternative, research shows that essential oils in fact release toxic VOCs that are especially troubling for people who experience breathing issues and that naturally derived or “Green” products, as they are marketed, often contain and put out harmful chemicals, per the University of Mass. Amherst. Ultimately, the dojo’s owner refused to stop burning incense, stating in response to my continued concerns and pleas to make the space safe for participants and despite the fact that other children enrolled began experiencing similar breathing issues, “I miss my smoke.”
We then tried dance lessons for our children in our neighborhood studio, and to our dismay, the small space was inundated with the chemical smell of plugins. The kids began to cough, their eyes grew red, and I immediately began to get a migraine, sore throat, and itchy, painful pin pricks in my skin. A short walk around revealed numerous Glade plugins of different scents. Because our daughter, Camila, had been desperate to take dance and because Milo had just lost ninjutsu, I decided to try and make things work and presented the owner with research on the health effects of scented plugins I had been collecting and asked if he might consider changing practices. While he implied that he would not have a problem with such a change, his main dance instructor did, and the entire season became an ideological (and literal) battle of will between us, with her utilizing the plugins every day and me yanking them out from their home behind seemingly every couch and end table and uncomfortably “standing my ground” for the times when my children were in class. Needless to say, the experience was marked by stress, and we did not re-enroll at the end of the year.
Since then, we have been unable to take music lessons in various private homes and music schools and dance at other studios, including most recently at the area dance school, an unfortunate reality for my sweet and endlessly understanding children, because of the same fact: despite earnest requests to change practices for the health of all involved (including, obviously, those who work there), the answer is always the same—that everyone’s “personal requests and preferences” cannot be “accommodated.” Along with insisting on the use of synthetic chemicals to cover the unpleasant odor dancers emit when “they sweat,” I was told, the dance school goes so far as to mandate that all dancers 12 years and older wear deodorant, despite parents’ health concerns with such commercial products or a child’s unique physical needs/sensitivities.
What is more, during our search for housing out-of-state, we found it next-to-impossible to find livable housing because whether for rent or for sale, the homes we looked at were marred by a chemical legacy that left the spaces unlivable for us. We would drive with our children, both excited and anxious, for hours to see a promising house, walk in (masked), and immediately feel a myriad of effects that would sometimes last for days after leaving. When with dismay we asked our realtor if this sort of practice was common in that area, she replied that her experience is that most sellers have either used scents prior to selling or that their realtors rely on chemical scents to “draw in” buyers to and mask unpleasant odors in listed homes. I ask, What happened to the best scent being a neutral, aired-out nothing? When did “clean” become synonymous with a cover-up? Why don’t people just bake a batch of chocolate chip cookies before showings?!
The truth is, companies/businesses/individuals/realtors that/who insist on using these products are harming human health and environments, and although some bodies may not perceive the threat as immediately as others, such chemicals are toxic for all who come into contact with them (not to mention for our planet, which cannot handle the chemical burden of the countless plastic casings and accompanying chemicals that are contained and released from each bottle and will inevitably end up in our already overflowing landfills). According to The Washington Post’s “If You Can Smell Your Air Freshener, You Might Have a Problem,” “Air fresheners have the potential to cause “hormonal disruptions and respiratory issues,” and they “emit over 100 chemicals, including volatile organic compounds (VOCs) such as formaldehyde, benzene, toluene, ethylbenzene and xylenes — some of which are associated with different types of cancer in high doses.” Thus, although the effects may not be as visible or obvious to many as to some, it is of the utmost importance that people continue to educate themselves on the dangers of the items they are filling their carts with and exposing themselves and their loved ones to inside their homes or at work or class. We have to demand that stores, particularly those that propound to be “health-conscious” and concerned for their customers, be truly so by removing these hazardous products from their shelves and thus ending their support of the companies benefiting from their distribution.
Ultimately, the use of such products, particularly by those parties who have been informed of their dangers, is not only reckless but discriminatory, and there are legal repercussions for employers or businesses who chose to ignore the health needs of those most vulnerable, of whom there are many. According to the American College of Allergy, Asthma, and Immunology (ACAAI), asthma affects over 24 million people each year and allergies 50 million, and they would likely agree that personal preference has nothing to do with physical needs.
Just as buildings must provide accessibility and safety in the form of ramps, elevators, lead and asbestos and mold abatement, and so on, so too must they begin to prove accessible for those of us with EI and chemical sensitivities that dictate our lives and the spaces we can enter into. We must consider how, while we may feel we should have individual rights to wear perfumes or use scented dryer sheets, for instance, the use of such products infringes upon the right to health and well-being–to opportunities–for others.
I hope, and imagine, that someday these products will be banned in public spaces in the same way that smoking cigarettes has come to be and that parents especially will see that allowing their children around these chemicals is akin to, say, knowingly exposing them to second-hand smoke. We are not there yet.
In the meantime, I hope we can diligently work toward, and sometimes even “fight the good fight” for, a safer and more equitable world for us all by voicing our concerns and needs to friends, family, and local establishments and by decreasing our reliance on harmful chemicals designed to make us forget that it is okay to be human. In fact, we must collectively remember that, as Ross Gay might remind us, it is a “delight” to be human, to be alive, and yes, sometimes . . . to pong.
