Smells are very important.

You can’t pick up a Cosmopolitan magazine these days without it having some reference to pheromones playing some role in the attraction process (you also can’t pick one up without wondering who comes up with ‘those positions’, and how they keep a straight face in the editorial meetings). And fair enough. Smell attracts you to food, it can improve the reading experience (I have often wondered if I would be as big of Harry Potter fan as I am now if those books didn’t smell so fantastic) and it warns you if something is burning. The smells of people are even more important (but perhaps a tiny bit less than the burning one – knowing if someone has had a shower in the past two days is less valuable information than knowing the building you’re in is on fire and you should act accordingly).

I’m not talking perfumes though; I’m talking that person’s natural smell. Chances are their family smells the same way. Your family has a smell too, you know. You’re just so used to it that you can’t smell it. But if you come home after a week of camp or something, stick your head in your cupboards and you’ll get a whiff of it. My best friend’s smell is one that I know very well, and don’t find offensive (although, I can also tell her farts apart from others, which I DO find offensive.) Then there are other people’s smells that I just can’t stand, and I find that this same sentiment applies to the person exuding that particular odour.

So I am very concerned about the stench of my new flat. It’s not great. It smells like a really big, really hairy man rubbed damp puppies on his armpits after at least 40 minutes of intense exercise, and then proceeded to rub those armpits on the carpet. But this smell is EVERYWHERE, so maybe he had some kind of elaborate, but highly unorthodox themed party – because it would take a lot of commitment to cover the carpet of an entire flat with your personal musk with just two armpits at your disposal. I’ll admit it; I admire this person’s dedication. But perhaps if this mystery stinker applied the same dedication to showering, I wouldn’t be spending half my pay check on scented candles and Glen 20, and he would make some better friends (friends don’t let friends stink up their carpets).

I’m extremely concerned that this smell will leach into my clothes, my bedding and, eventually, my pores. What if this becomes MY smell?! When I first inspected this place I was told the carpets would be professionally cleaned, and so assumed this unpleasant fragrance would be eradicated, but now after one week, 85 per cent of a can of Glen 20 and countless vanilla tea light candles, I’m worried the smell isn’t a carpet issue – it’s a curse. A poltergeist of poor potpourri calls for drastic action. I’ve got to get serious and call in the big guns. Looks like I’m going to have to buy a vacuum cleaner way sooner than I had originally anticipated.