Creepy girl confession: One of my favorite things about life is going in to a hug a guy I like and smelling his clean, crisp t-shirt. When I get a nostril-full and it smells like skipping through an Irish meadow on a spring day, I wanna high-five myself, high-five him, and high-five his washing machine and dryer.
I don't know if he washes his laundry with crack or what (does crack even smell good?) but I cannot get enough. And, just knowing that his shirt is going to be in my life for the next 2 to 12 hours--if it goes well--puts a pep in my step. Let's put it like this, if a guy's shirt smells like a lily pad on prom night, then I'm gonna keep him around as long as possible.
On the flipside, if a guy has terrible-smelling clothes and I'm bitchslapped by his B.O. when I go in for a hug, I don't care how extensive his record collection is, how many funny videos he forwards me while he's at work, or how well-regarded he is by his peers, he has a zero percent chance of making it past a third date. Them's the breaks! It's "clean shirt or bust" up in here.
There have been a few rare occasions when a boy smells like nothing and that really throws me off my game. I'll be in his closet sniffing his sweaters when he leaves the room to pee. I'm like Scully rifling through his X-Files. Why doesn't this guy smell like anything? Is he a robot? Is he ghost? Am I on a date with Powder? I get all existential about it. If his shirt doesn't smell like anything while it's on his body, was the shirt even on?
So, guys who's t-shirts smell good, we tip our hats to you. I wanna package your shirt's scent and pop it in the wall as my air freshener. I wanna snuggle up in your armpit and hang out for a little while. Maybe build a pillow fort with your shirt as the roof. Maybe just lay around and finish a crossword puzzle, stopping every few minutes when I'm trying to think of a word to roll over and catch a whiff. It's my catnip and I'm counting down the minutes until I can get another hit.