162: 2 Soap Queens

We’re living in a house divided and this unchecked scent aggression will definitely stand because like, come on, who’s going to fight over laundry smells?

The important thing is that we all agree with the science on the fact that detergent sheets don’t work. They will give you sour laundry! And you will be sad! They are packaged in a way that’s better for the planet, but if they don’t get your clothes clean, what’s the point?

You can read more about that issue here and here and here.

IN OTHER NEWS, we also talked about giving ourselves some grace re: trying to do our best at a difficult time. Remember: Do your best but remember that unless you are a literal billionaire using private jets like the rest of us use bikeshares, your little laundry soap choices probably aren’t the difference between climate catastrophe and salvation.

Ok. But.

The real top-line story this week, though, is that I thoroughly believe Bingo, Andrew’s cat, could learn to use buttons. What do we think?

How many chores would Bingo mandate — we know he loves to be made into the bed, might he start demanding it? Like Lola demands a clean window?

Also, I’m working on getting video from the pod up here so that like, two people (probably only for my mom and dad — you’re welcome, Julie and Dan!) can watch it. Let’s see if this works!

Or, you can listen like Andrew listens to old-timey detective shows (which is to say: Spray bottle in hand and up to your eyeballs in an edible or seven). That’s here:

Also, I was curious what Tide actually smells like. Because we all could probably identify it in a blind smell test, but could any of us name its main notes? What odors comprise that very-recognizable “Tide” scent?

I did a bit of digging and found a paper published a few years back. The paper, authored by some chemical smell professional (literally a “Master Perfumer” for P&G) describes the history and development of the Tide scent, explaining that it was “added mainly to cover the soapy off-odor of the detergent base,” used in the original WWII-era formula.

“The fragrance had a simple construction with a basic odor character – rose and fougere.”

And, if you’re normal, you probably just asked yourself, aloud, “the gluten-free fuck is fougere?” Or I did, anyway. So let me save you a Google: Fougere is basically a catch-all term for fragrances that you might describe as “green.” It’s one of the main fragrance families in perfumes, it’s just not exactly a “street term” if you will. Per Wikipedia:

Fougère perfumes are made with a blend of fragrances: top-notes are sweet, with the scent of lavender flowers; as the more volatile components evaporate, the scents of oakmoss, derived from a species of lichen and described as woody, sharp and slightly sweet, and coumarin, similar to the scent of new-mown hay, become noticeable.

Tide’s scent is always meant to smell “clean,” but according to the pros, that also means that not smelling dated. The most current iteration, according to the paper, has been “upgraded based on emerging trends with white floral notes that played an important role but built off the citrus fruity combination which was present in earlier fragrance.”

Which means that the Tide has changed a little with each decade to match with the times - the 70s were hot for musk, the 80s like very soapy smells. So what you “remember” as the smell of Tide is probably more to do with your age and when you first became aware of laundry as a smell and concept.

Now you know!