I was horrified for a second and then burst out laughing until I cried. It was such a random and specific thing for him to say. It’s also funny because I don’t camp or do anything involving tents, and the very idea of a tent terrifies me. I was so taken by his comment I even posted it to Facebook, where my brother reminded me that during the summers when we were kids, we’d pitch a tent in our backyard and eat pizza.
Tents have such a distinct musty scent, a mix of canvas, stale air and sun. The thing is, he was right. And I’d done nothing that day to generate such a smell, other than walk to the store and type on a computer.
What I have noticed, over the past few years, is that I do smell different. After doing a bit of research, I discovered that my “Tent” aroma is yet another unpleasant side-effect of menopause, and is normal, or at least, normal for middle-aged ladies like me.
I remember the “old” smell of my grandparents’ home, or antique shops, estate sales, or the occasional thrift store, and how it is a thing, like a table or couch, that just is. We’ve all experienced it. I just didn’t know there was a “bridge” smell that ramps up to that.
I suppose it could be worse. There are far worse pieces of camping equipment to smell like. Although on second thought, I can’t think of any.
If I’m going to smell like a tent, I may as well dress like one and bring the look full-circle. There’s great Pinterest Boards here and here that pay homage to the tent dress and coat. I think I’ll camp out there for awhile.