Warning! This article contains sensitive, female-only information.
Ladies, if a man is reading this, wrest it from his hairy-knuckled grasp immediately or talk about Tupperware parties to frighten him off.
The shocking nature of the contents pose a danger not only to mankind, but me.
I am about to divulge a secret without the OK of the female mafia and so the consequences for me may be dire.
If I am found makeup-less in a roadside ditch wearing ugly shoes, I had it coming.
Fact: the average human is able to recognise about 10,000 different odours.
Smell is the sense closest linked to memory and why the fragrance industry spends millions each year attempting to create memorable perfumes for women as an aid to seduction.
But, here's the rub - it's pointless.
Using perfume as a male attractant is futile.
They appreciate it about as much as flies do Raid.
I asked males of my acquaintance what they liked a woman to smell of and the answers were as varied as they were distressing: apple shampoo, fish and chips, money, sweat, sulphur, clean sheets, new books, cookies.
"I want my missus to smell like freshly microwaved minted peas," said one.
Despite their olfactory irregularities, there is one pong that men find irresistible.
One smell to rule them all, as it were, but not to be used carelessly.
When I wear this perfume, I avoid riding in the claustrophobia-inducing cupboard that is the Allied Press elevator, as this particular fragrance in close confines can drive a man to madness.
Even the steely eyes of sage editors have been known to suddenly glitter with the mad glimmer of a ravenous wolf catching wind of prey, upon smelling this wondrous reek.
"What's that perfume you're wearing?" they ask, baring too-sharp teeth.
What is this tantalising extraction? I like to call it "Dog Whistle for Men". Packaged in tiny bottles and only available from select retailers (Fairies, Wizards and Gifts, rrp $12.99), this elixir is actually called Kama, the Indian Love Oil.
But perhaps it's better known as Patchouli, the scent of the 1960s, designed to cover the body odour of unwashed hippy girls and thus incredibly strong and evocative of loose morals.
Patchouli reminds men of that free-spirited, long-limbed Swedish backpacker they met while fruit picking in their student days.
She, of liberal sexual ethics and unshaved armpits, remains forever unpossessed and pined for.
Every man has a Swedish backpacker lurking in the dim, dark regions of youthful memory and it is those suppressed feelings of lust and longing that rush back at one whiff of Kama.
Mothers who lived in New Zealand in the 1960s and 1970s will recognise it with ill-disguised horror, bringing back, as it does, memories of kaftans, unequal rights and afro perms.
But I say use this weapon of mass distraction to create your own double standard.
It is so powerful that grandiloquent offerings can be halted mid-drone: "the importance of acknowledging international markets and their impact on asparagus sales . . .
I say, what's that smell?" Men you don't know well enough to lay your hands upon will sniff at your ear lobes, then with tear-brimmed eyes reminisce, "She was from Stockholm and her skin was the colour of honey."
Even the economist is not immune to the memory-trembles that Kama evokes.
As a fledgling right-winger he suffered unrequited love for a hippy girl who, sensibly, shrank from his politics.
Now, arriving home to a certain musky aroma, he says, "it's Kama".
Glazed with a beatific smile, I know he has gone to that summer day long ago when a girl with flowers in her white-blonde hair and rings on every finger smiled at him.
But he'll be back.
What goes around comes around.
THE diary
November 21: Swing with the Rat Pack, Glenroy, Dunedin. That's amore. Bressa Creeting Cake, Chicks Hotel, Port Chalmers. Dig out that old black fisherman's knit jersey.
November 25: German Film Festival, Rialto.
December 12: Miss Ruby's Fabulously Camp Christmas, Cellar's Bar. Jingle all the way. Ann Robinson Celebrating the Recession, Milford Galleries, Dunedin. Well, someone has to.
And, finally . . . summer's coming.
Quick, get a pedicure before someone sees the state of your tootsies
What are the latest fashion trends and have they hit the streets of Dunedin? Or, do people in the South have their own style?
Reporter Sarah Harvey goes out with a camera and notepad to record some fashion statements.
Radhika Sreevalsan(19), student
Describe your style:I guess I wear kind of trendy but casual clothes.
What are you wearing and where is it from?
My jacket is from Wild Pair, so is the black top, and I'm wearing a green dress underneath it which is from Principals.
The tights are from Glassons. I can't actually remember where I got my shoes from.
Do you have a favourite item of clothing?
I just mix and match as well.
We go shopping quite a lot.
Mandy Ma (19), student (left)
Describe your style: I'm not sure.
I guess you could say quite classy.
What are you wearing and where is it from?
My jacket is from Just Jeans, my cardigan is from Country Road, the black top is from Portmans and the jeans are from Jay Jays.
My shoes are from Hannahs and my bag is from Glassons.
Do you have a favourite item of clothing?
Not really. I have a lot of clothes so I'm always mixing and matching.
Sibby Foster (19)
Describe your style: Definitely eclectic.
What are you wearing and where is it from?
A bit of everything but mainly second-hand or from overseas.
The necklace is my mum's and the ring was my grandmother's, the jacket is from Zara, the sunglasses are Ray Ban, the scarf is from Sports Girl, the shoes are Bloch dance shoes and the rest is either from chain stores or is second-hand.
Do you have a favourite item of clothing?
I wear a lot of vintage or things I have "stolen" from my mum.
Lucy Gow (13),high school pupil
Describe your style: I wear a lot of Glassons clothes because my mum works there.
My skirt is an old one from Urban Angel, the white top is from Supre, the cardigan is from Glassons, the shoes are from The Warehouse and the tights are from Glassons.
Do you have a favourite item of clothing?
A leopard dress from Glassons.
