I tried the viral ‘catnip for men’ perfume, but did it get 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.
As I scroll through the dreary profiles on dating app Hinge, I feel like I’m losing the will to live.
“I recently discovered that a kettle that is being watched is boiling,” writes one man, while another says he usually has his Sunday lunch at Costa Coffee.
Things are so bleak that 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 out of favor as daters return to real-life hookups.
I have been single for six months now and am ready for a new relationship. But if I get off the apps, how easy will it be to meet a guy?
Wracking my brain for ways to find love, I see on TikTok that there is a viral “pheromone perfume” that is said to make men weak at the knees.
It’s called Pure Instinct and is said to send influencers’ other halves all over themselves when they wear it.
A so-called catnip for men, it seems that pheromone perfume can turn any guy into the loved-up equivalent of a purring, drooling kitten.
If you search online, Pure Instinct is one of many such drinks that promise to attract the opposite sex – both men and women.
I doubt this as prices for a 10ml bottle cost between £3.29 and £24.60 – ridiculously cheap when you consider Rihanna’s latest Fenty fragrance costs £115 and Victoria Beckham’s 9:50 Reverie costs £170 .
I’m afraid a £19.72 bottle of Pure Instinct will smell like a cat’s litter box.
Still, it promises to “enhance your natural pheromone production, which generates affection, increases trust and romantic relationships.”
Maximum effect on men
When the Pure Instinct arrives, I excitedly unpack it, only to find a cheap-looking roll-on. Still, I apply it to my pulse points – on my wrists and behind my ears – because this makes the scent more powerful.
And I want it to have maximum effect on men.
It’s December and everyone else is bundled up in winter coats, so I can only assume my pheromones have made him warm under the collar.
Unfortunately I don’t like the smell. It’s sticky and sickly sweet, like a cheap copy of Britney Spears’ scent.
But I’m focusing on the higher purpose and going out to see if this love potion is all it’s cracked up to be.
First I go to Leyland, my local hardware store. On the short bus ride there, I see a man across the aisle with bare biceps in a short-sleeved T-shirt.
It’s December and everyone else is bundled up in winter coats, so I can only assume my pheromones have made him warm under the collar.
Nexta man sits diagonally across from me.
At first 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 growling under his breath, as if he’s hypnotized. Maybe he’s captivated by my pheromones.
I arrive in Leyland. It sells current tools, Polyfilla and plugs, so I hope to meet muscular guys who are good with their hands.
Maybe my special scent will work magic on the store clerk.
“Excuse me, can you help me reach the floor cleaner?” I ask him, pointing to a high shelf.
I subtly pull back my sleeve as I gesture to the bottle, so my bare wrist is near his nose.
After reapplying the perfume before entering the store, I smell like an old pack of Starburst.
He doesn’t ask me out, but he does snoop a bit. I take this as a sign that he can’t get enough of me.
Then I head to Tesco for my weekly shop.
I am now aware of the power of this enchanting pong, so I want to use it wisely to find the right person.
Bringing out the inner caveman
I’m having trouble finding the lentils, so I ask an employee.
“What is that, chocolate?” he answers. He looks completely confused and it’s clear to me that he’s blinded by my pheromones, not the contents of my shopping list.
I try it with one of his colleagues, but he also asks what lentils are.
Clearly my pheromones are messing with their minds.
In one aisle a man stands next to me for an unusually long time. But he’s not my type, so I dump my basket and go to the gym.
After giving myself another bit of Pure Instinct, I prowl with the subtlety of a RuPaul’s Drag contestant Race.
Not much happens, so I hop on the treadmill for a power walk, hoping that my enticing aroma will be more potent once I break a sweat.
Then, as I slowly walk past guys lifting weights, their grunts become more and more guttural – I think the perfume brings out their inner caveman.
I take a break at the kettlebells. On a mat nearby, a man does some suggestive butt thrusts – and immediately increases the pace.
Stunned by the power of my perfume, I leave the gym before it gets messy.
That evening I meet my friend Hannah. She’s 33 and also single, so we both enjoy the Pure Instinct before going to the pub.
It’s full, so we go upstairs. A sign says ‘Private Function’, but inside we are welcomed by an eager-looking guy and told to help ourselves to food.
They are chemicals made by an animal that are secreted or excreted in urine, milk, feces, vaginal secretions, semen, and any fluid.
Wow! Has my pheromone perfume made us irresistible?
After a few glasses of wine, I walk up to a table of four guys and rudely ask if they like my scent.
“It’s fruity,” someone replies.
“Does it give you a fruity feeling?” I ask. He denies that this is the case, but a little too quickly, suggesting he is lying. Later, at the bar, the same man comes and stands next to me.
He acts like he’s just there to order drinks, but that’s clearly not a coincidence.
Towards the end of the evening, as I pass the men’s toilets, a man appears who might be Mamma Mia! star Dominic Cooper stops in his tracks.
He looks at me like he’s swallowed a love potion. Did my perfume just do its job on an A-lister?
To better understand what’s happening, I ask Professor Jonathan Sackier, a senior doctor who co-hosts the humorous podcast Join The Docs, to explain pheromones.
“They are chemicals made by an animal that are excreted or excreted in urine, milk, feces, vaginal secretions, semen, and any fluid,” he explains. “They can be detected by another animal of the same species and it changes their behavior or biology.”
Do humans have pheromones?
“The short answer is: no one knows,” he says. “There is no definitive proof that we make pheromones, nor that we can detect them. And there is no evidence that it changes our behavior or biology.”
Maybe it was all in my head because I believed it worked.
I ask Prof. Sackier if this 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.”
Since the pheromone perfume smells like a bubble gum factory explosion, I’m glad I don’t have to wear it anymore.
But it has given me the confidence I needed to put the dating apps aside, knowing I can find men bowling wherever I go.