This Sunday’s sermon is on sweat fetish. Can I get a Hallelujah? Since so many of you seem to find my blog via the search term ‘sweat fetish’ and it’s variants, I’m sure there is a Mexican wave of arms going aloft upon today’s post.
Now, I might not go to church or engage in other formal religions, but I do find spiritual nourishment from being in nature. I recently swapped my gym membership for outdoor exercise, favouring the fresh air over other people’s stale sweat mingled with perfume and Lynx (ugh). Besides, there’s something invariably soulless about gyms, no matter how high-end they might be and I was in need of a change.
I love the solitude of trail running, the steady rhythm of my pace matching my breathing, sunlight streaming through the trees, the crunch of ground underfoot and the feel of sweat dripping down my back. It is a moving meditation. More recently with the perpetual rain, it’s also been an exercise in discipline.
It is also a far happier a workout than going to the gym (hello vitamin D and serotonin) and since my body isn’t producing stress hormones such as cortisol that come with using my stealth-ninja skills to bag the ‘good’ treadmills under the air-con at the gym, it’s conceivable that my sweat smells sweeter as a result (apparently raised levels of cortisol in the body produce sour smelling sweat).
As I was pondering on the subject of sweat fetish, something occurred to me: if you’re into sniffing sweaty lady-garments, then you might actually be on to something. Following your nose on such matters is down to pheromones, which are produced by apocrine glands round the stomach, armpits, chest and groin area- and they may be fruitful in many more ways than one since it can determine who we are attracted to. Have you ever met anyone with a smell that made you want to just pounce on them and rip their clothes off? That’s not amore- that’s pheromones.
Feet, however, do not have apocrine glands but eccrine glands, which are used for thermic regulation. So for all of you that found a pew here today by entering ‘sweaty feet’ into Google, I have to wonder, if you’re not on a truffle hunt for pheromones, then what is the attraction? Foot fetish combined with a lust for sweat? Any answers can be dropped in my confession box later.
I appreciate that foot sweat can have it’s own musky quality when combined with the right footwear and I have been thinking about which footwear would produce the ideal strong scent. And lo the answer did come to me on the tube as I saw a young girl in thick 70 denier tights wearing Ugg boots in 27 degree heat (40 degrees if you’re on the Victoria line). Alas, there are many things I will do for my art but wearing Ugg boots is not one of them. Aside from being a sin against style, they offer no support and flatten the arch of the foot and who wants that? No, I will run for a few kilometres across rugged terrain and send you the sweaty socks (if you’re lucky) before slipping on some high heels for the evening. Amen to that.
To the people (yes, it’s more than one person) who googled ‘Lick my sweaty ass slave’ and found me, well, all I can say is: you have to keep up with me first!
But before we depart, let’s all take a moment to close our eyes and think about sweat fetish and what it means to us. Minima maxima sunt.
There you are, the Sunday Sweat Fetish Sermon. Go in peace.