I tried viral ‘catnip for men’ perfume – it smelt like a cheap Britney Spears knock off but did it bag me a date?
TikTok’s latest buzz products, pheromone perfumes, promise to make people irresistible to the opposite sex.
Writer Samantha Rea, 42, from West London, puts it to the test – with surprising results.
Scrolling through the dismal profiles on dating app Hinge, I feel myself losing the will to live.
“I recently discovered that a watched kettle does boil,” writes one man, while another says that he typically has his Sunday lunch at Costa Coffee.
Things are so bleak I’m considering ditching dating apps altogether. And I’m not the only one.
According to recent statistics, the likes of Tinder, Hinge and Bumble are all falling from favour as daters turn back to real-life meet-ups.
I have been single for six months and I’m ready for a new relationship. But if I come off the apps, how easy will it be to meet a man?
Racking my brain for ways to find love, I see on TikTok, there’s a viral “pheromone perfume” said to be making men weak at the knees.
Called Pure Instinct, it’s supposedly sending influencers’ other halves gooey over them when they wear it.
A so-called catnip for men, it looks like pheromone perfume can turn any bloke into the loved-up equivalent of a purring, drooling kitten.
Searching online, Pure Instinct is one of many such potions promising to attract the opposite sex – both men and women.
I’m dubious, because prices for a 10ml bottle cost between £3.29 and £24.60 – ridiculously cheap when you think that Rihanna’s latest Fenty scent will set you back £115 and Victoria Beckham’s 21:50 Reverie is £170.
I fear a £19.72 bottle of Pure Instinct will smell like a cat’s litter tray.
Yet it promises to “enhance your natural pheromone production which inspires affection, elevates confidence and romantic relationships”.
Maximum effect on men
When the Pure Instinct arrives I unwrap it with excitement, only to find a cheap-looking roll-on. Nevertheless, I apply it to my pulse points — on my wrists and behind my ears — because this makes the fragrance more potent.
And I want it to have its maximum effect on men.
It’s December and everyone else is wrapped up in winter coats, so I can only assume my pheromones have got him hot under the collar.
Unfortunately, I don’t like the smell. It’s tacky and sickly sweet, like a cheap knock-off of a Britney Spears scent.
But I focus on the higher purpose and head out to see if this love potion is all it is cracked up to be.
First I go to Leyland, my local DIY store. During the short bus ride there, I spot a man across the aisle baring his biceps in a short-sleeved T-shirt.
It’s December and everyone else is wrapped up in winter coats, so I can only assume my pheromones have got him hot under the collar.
Next, a guy sits down diagonally opposite me.
Initially, he doesn’t seem to notice me, but then almost as if he can’t help it, he starts rubbing his hands on his thighs, and grunting under his breath, as if he’s hypnotised. Perhaps he is under the spell of my pheromones.
I arrive at Leyland. It sells power tools, Polyfilla and plugs, so I am hoping to bump into brawny guys who are good with their hands.
Perhaps my special scent will work magic on the shop assistant.
“Excuse me, could you help me reach the floor cleaner?” I ask him, pointing towards a high shelf.
I subtly pull back my sleeve as I gesture towards the bottle, so my bare wrist is near his nose.
Having reapplied the perfume before entering the shop, I smell like a stale packet of Starburst.
He does not ask me out, but he does sniff a bit. I take this as a sign he can’t get enough of me.
Next I head to Tesco for my weekly shop.
I’m now aware of the potency of this enchanting pong so I want to use it wisely, to get the right guy.
Bringing out the inner caveman
I’m struggling to find the lentils, so I ask a member of staff.
“What’s that, chocolate?” he replies. He looks completely confused and it’s apparent to me that he’s been bedazzled by my pheromones, not the contents of my shopping list.
I try one of his colleagues, but he too asks what lentils are.
Clearly my pheromones are muddling their minds.
In one aisle, a man stands beside me for an unusually long time. But he’s not my type, so I dump my basket and head to the gym.
After giving myself another dab of Pure Instinct, I sashay around with the subtlety of a contestant on RuPaul’s Drag Race.
Nothing much happens, so I jump on the treadmill for a power walk hoping my alluring aroma will be more potent once I’m sweating.
Afterwards, as I stroll slowly past guys lifting weights, their grunting gets more guttural — I reckon the perfume is bringing out their inner caveman.
I pause by the kettlebells. On a mat nearby, a man is doing some suggestive glute thrusts — and immediately ups the pace.
Stunned at my perfume’s power, I leg it out of the gym before things get messy.
That evening, I meet my friend Hannah. She is 33, and single too, so we both slather on the Pure Instinct before heading out to the pub.
It’s packed so we go upstairs. A sign says “Private Function”, but we’re welcomed inside by an eager-looking bloke and told to help ourselves to food.
They’re chemicals made by an animal, and they’re excreted or secreted in urine, milk, poo, vaginal secretions, semen, any kind of fluid.
Wow! Has my pheromone perfume rendered us irresistible?
After a couple of glasses of wine, I approach a table of four guys and boldly ask if they like my scent.
“It’s fruity,” replies one.
“Does it make YOU feel fruity?” I ask. He denies that it does, but a bit too quickly, suggesting he is fibbing. Later, at the bar, the same guy comes up and stands beside me.
He makes out he’s just there to order drinks, but it’s clearly no coincidence.
Towards the end of the night, as I walk past the men’s toilets, a guy who might be Mamma Mia! star Dominic Cooper stops in his tracks.
He looks at me as if he’s swallowed a love potion. Has my perfume just done its job on an A-lister?
To better grasp what’s happening, I ask Professor Jonathan Sackier, a chief medical officer who co-hosts humorous podcast Join The Docs, to explain pheromones.
“They’re chemicals made by an animal, and they’re excreted or secreted in urine, milk, poo, vaginal secretions, semen, any kind of fluid,” he explains. “They can be detected by another animal of the same species and it changes their behaviour or biology.”
Do humans have pheromones?
“The short answer is, no one knows,” he says. “There’s no definitive proof we make pheromones, nor that we can detect them. And there’s no evidence it changes our behaviour or biology.”
Maybe it was all in my head because I believed it was working.
I ask Prof Sackier if it could have been the placebo effect.
“Of course,” he says. “But if it makes you happier and more confident, then go for it — have fun.”
Given that the pheromone perfume smells like an explosion in a bubblegum factory, I’m glad I won’t need to wear it any more.
But it has given me the confidence I needed to set aside the dating apps, knowing I can bowl men over anywhere I go.