Gwyneth Paltrow sold out of a candle that smells like her vagina.
One question, why? Not why did she sell out, but why her vagina? Did her armpits not make the grade? How did we arrive at a lifestyle accessory smelling like our lady bits?
Every woman’s tulip will reflect the scent of her diet, hygiene and of her being her. It’s not the actual smell of one. It’s the manufactured smell of Gwyneth’s vagina. I could only imagine gifting such a candle to one of my previous teachers at grade school. “Hey there, Sister Mary, why not light this baby up while you’re doing your evening prayers.” Is there not something else exclusive that we can capitalize on as a fragrance for a candle? Have we run out of ideas? I know Mother Nature is the go-to place for unique scents for perfumes, but I’m thinking along the lines of plants, trees and flowers, not her sugar notch of goodies.
Perhaps it’s my association. A lit candle smelling like a vagina has a disconnect for me in the same way I don’t fancy savoury, spiced chocolates. I like my chocolate to taste like a dessert, not an appetizer. Similarly, I love my candles to smell like nature although a donut smelling candle could work for me.
Our sense of smell is powerful and critical because it triggers memories. Going to my gynecologist for a pap smear doesn’t need to be one of them. Smell alerts us to danger and can influence our moods. I get the exhaustion around the scent of apple cinnamon or the dreaded intense vanilla but the scent of pink mink? I’d like to have been a fly on the wall at that creative meeting. Maybe I’ve become a prude in my older years, but I don’t think so. I’m not fond of the smell of hospitals, and I’m not warming up to a life decor product that smells like a cha-cha. I would prefer not to have a candle that smells like not only mine or any of my girlfriend’s vaginas, either. No disrespect. Now, if the Pillsbury doughboy had one that smelled like his butt wafting the delicate fragrance of cinnamon rolls, I might be swayed. The fact is it’s a candle that happens to be on-trend only because it’s supposed to smell like Gwyneth’s vagina, which by the way, is the name for the birth canal Gwyneth, not the funhouse. If you want to design something that speaks to the vagina, why not the associations to the candy store portion where the clitoris or lady wood for women all reside. That’s where all the good shit is and where all the action happens. But I suppose from a marketing perspective ‘Smells Like Vulva’ could be too close to Volvo.
A vagina is a sacred place of generating life, first chakra, and where creativity resides. To attempt to capture its essence in a candle feels a bit like you’re diminishing its real power while making it a consumer item. I don’t even know what to say, never mind think about all of this. It feels off for me, and I’m not disappointed the various lifestyle companies missed this one. My first thought is if your vagina is emanating any smell perhaps, it’s best to see a physician and fast. A lovely smelling woo-woo require probiotics, clean underwear, good hygiene and a healthy pH. But whatever happened to discretion and keeping that part beautiful and private? One girlfriend shared with me that this is officially the end of civilization as we know it, to which I replied I’d be suspect of entering any office where a man might have such a candle burning. I do wonder whether men are the primary purveyors of this item.
Evening in Paris, Lemon-up, Loves Baby Soft, Chanel No, 5 and Charlie were some of the fragrances I grew up around, but the fragrance of a vagina never made the list. I’m suspecting all of this would not have amused our mothers, more accurately; they would have been appalled. At nearly sixty, my vagina has been good to me. I celebrate it by keeping it healthy. I don’t need to commemorate it as a candle.
For the longest time, I was on the hunt for the best cedar smelling candles. There is something special about going into fall and winter with gorgeous candles that emanate a cozy and alluring fragrance of the season. To have a candle emitting a scent from any part of my body doesn’t provide that same sensual alignment for me. What’s next, armpit deodorant that smells like sliced pastrami?
Then there’s Erykah Badu, whose musical library happens to be on my playlist and is now releasing ‘Badu Pussy.’ Yup, incense that smells like her vagina. What’s next Martha Stewart’s scent in a pale pastel shade of evening citron emanating faint hues of lemon squares built into the fragrance of her post-menopausal vagina? I’ve already got vagina exhaustion at the notion of yet one more person putting their lady bits scent out on the market. I’m fully prepared for some Eastern European weightlifter to put her vagina scented candle on Amazon and calling it Eau de Kielbasa. At this point, anything is possible.
If you’re going to create something around the vagina, why not something useful like a vibrating seat on a stationary exercise bike. There’s an idea. Forget Peleton. It’ll give a new meaning to workouts where instead of clocking in 25 kilometres, you’ll clock in 500, and not even know it, ready to go again—dropping pounds inadvertently because one will have cycled longer and faster than those on the Tour-de-France.
Our palaces of pleasure are also monuments to the offspring we gave birth to and for those that did so naturally, I salute your iron vaginas. Passing a head through what was once the size of a small coin is more than impressive, it’s olympian. But at 60, our vaginas are demanding attention and, we need not light a candle when with the slightest friction, we can ignite a fire down there. To me, it feels a bit over the top for something that is providing and doing what it’s designed to do. What’s next tetherball tit neck supporters? If anything, make your vagina happy. Orgasms are the healthiest way to honour every part of your body. Bask in feeling how beautifully you’re created. That makes sense to me.
Not to be outdone, there is a candle called “Smells like my penis.” As a mother of sons, again, I ask why? I wonder how many will receive that as a Mother’s Day gift? It deliberately costs 25% more to illustrate the inequality of value that exists between men and women in the workforce. Though the extra funds are being donated, it perpetuates the issue by not changing the attitude of equality it’s supposed to address—a missed opportunity, in my opinion. Why not charge the same price to illustrate working towards the same goal.
I’m assuming this is all novelty, or maybe it isn’t, but I won’t be ponying up money any time soon to acquire one. I’m okay not to have what Gwyneth’s having. Besides, there are other ways to enjoy the light and serve it in a manner that a candle won’t do.
With the ridiculous price of $75.00, I’d prefer to donate that amount to our local food bank. It will go a lot further in bringing illumination and light to the lives of others than this candle ever will.