Personal Hygiene

Once more, I wasn’t sure what this week’s post was going to be about, and once more, the answer came when I least expected it…

Inspiration struck, quite forcibly, on one of my early morning train rides from Southampton to London this week. I had just settled into a window seat when my nostrils were assaulted by a rather foul stench. Regrettably, it wasn’t someone releasing the hounds after the previous night’s Chicken Madras. I say regrettably because, although such an odour is never welcome, it is something that we have all done at some point (maybe not on a crowded train, but we’ve all farted noxious gases at some point) and it is usually only a momentary attack on the olfactory senses. No, this was the creeping, lingering waft of what can only be described as combat-level body odour. Combat-level in the sense that the odour itself could be (or indeed, was) used as a weapon.

The man (or gorilla; the smell could have been gorilla, or possibly skunk) was sitting directly behind me, gently emanating waves of offence.

This was where I had cause to curse my British heritage. By now all of the other double seats had at least one person sitting at them. If I were to move I would have to leave what was, to the observer, a perfectly good double seat and encroach on the elbow room of one of my fellow passengers. This would be noticed and eyebrows would be raised. A quandary - make a scene or suffer in silence. My Britishness won out and I settled in for a trip of nauseating smells and some tactical tutting.

The main problem was, this wasn’t the smell of someone that had not long been to the gym, run or cycled to the train station, sweat patches radiating across their clothes. It wasn’t the smell of someone that had been in a stuffy office all day with no air conditioning. This was the smell of someone that clearly hadn’t washed or showered in quite some time, and (my nasal hairs quiver even now, remembering it) the smell wasn’t going away.

Most smells will be noticeable to you for a short time and then a memory effect will usually kick in and it will slowly fade into the background. This is why some people can spray on layer upon layer of perfume or aftershave and be totally unaware that they are the reason that birds are falling from the sky; the smell doesn’t fade, but their awareness of it does, so they think it’s worn off and spray more on. People approaching are then treated to the sensation of being slammed in the face with a full department store perfume counter. However, spend some time near them and suddenly you’ll realise you can barely detect it anymore.

This was not one of those smells.

I tried leaning forward, hunching over my book, to get further away from the stink, but it seemed as if every bump of the train brought forth another burst of weaponised B.O. Sometimes I will sleep on a train journey, but if you’ve ever had smelling salts you’ll understand how impossible that would have been. I’m fairly sure chopping onions would have been less likely to bring tears to my eyes on this morning.

If your friend insists he just has a thing for gas masks, check your pits...

What gets me is this guy looked fairly respectable, not dishevelled at all, his clothes looked clean and presentable. The problem had to have stemmed simply from a lack of personal hygiene and that’s what I take issue with. A noxious fart can sometimes take you by surprise and is your body’s way of telling you to adjust your diet or visit the littlest room - not pleasant (who am I kidding, if it’s your own there’s a certain pride involved) but at times unavoidable. Bad personal hygiene is either laziness or a disturbing choice. If you’re not a teenager you really have no excuse (being a teenager isn’t an excuse, but you try arguing with one).

Cleaning yourself, whether in a bath, shower, or a full-body flannel wash, is not just for your benefit. Making sure you don’t smell is as much for your fellow human beings as it is for you. My whole morning was affected by that odiferous experience and it has clearly made such an impression that I am now writing about it.

If you stink, people will not want to be near you. They will avoid you. You will not be picked up in bars. You will not get past that job interview. You will not pass Go and you will not collect £200. You will be a pariah and your entire life will be affected by it.

It is not necessary to always use the countless gels, creams, sprays, lotions and potions that adorn many a females’ (and metrosexuals’) wash kit, but simple soap and water is not expensive, followed by a smidgen of deodorant (deodorant, not Lynx - if you’re male and over 15 years old that stuff really isn’t for you). It doesn’t have to take long, either. If you’re too lazy for a shower in the morning take one the evening before. But clean yourself daily. Don’t allow a stench to build up that you’re not aware of.

Take pride in yourself, in the way you smell as well as the way you look. You will never be judged for smelling clean, but by Great Odin’s Raven you will be judged for smelling dirty. Make sure people evaluate you on the person that you are, not for the dumpster that you smell like.

That morning found me exiting the train faster than I ever have before, bursting out into the sweet, clean air of Waterloo train station, sniffing the diesel fumes as if they were the most fragrant of flower blossoms. My tactical tutting had proven ineffective in the war against B.O. so I made a vow to myself: never again would I suffer this in silence. Never again would I let my British stoicism and horror of making a fuss stand between me and the fresh air I craved. No, in future I would quietly gather up all of my stuff and move to the next carriage, taking care to make eye contact with no-one as I did so…