The human body has a way of telling its own stories, sometimes in whispers, sometimes in full theatrical flourishes, and sometimes through scent. One of the more intriguing and often misunderstood truths is that the scent of a woman, even post-menopause, can change dramatically when she is aroused or in the company of someone she finds sensual. This is not imagination, nor is it a relic of a bygone reproductive era. It is science, chemistry, pheromones and physiology all conspiring in ways that still surprise both women themselves and their partners.
To begin with, the vagina and vulva are far from passive landscapes. Even after the ovaries retire from their bustling oestrogen and progesterone production, other parts of the body pick up some of the slack. The adrenal glands and even fat tissue continue to produce small but significant amounts of oestrogen, testosterone and DHEA. These subtle hormonal contributions still influence the vaginal environment. Add to this the complex interplay of bacteria that make up the vaginal microbiome and you have a recipe for scents that shift with mood, arousal, and intimacy.
When a woman becomes aroused, her pelvic blood flow increases. This is as true at 90 as it was at 20, even if the overall volume of lubrication differs. The increase in circulation feeds the sweat and sebaceous glands of the vulva, including the Bartholin’s glands, which secrete a fluid that adds lubrication. These secretions, mixed with naturally occurring fatty acids, proteins, and metabolites, create odours that are often described as musky, sweet, or earthy. Add in the heightened perception that comes with desire and suddenly she notices it herself with startling clarity. The description many women give is that it “smells of sex” and they are right, because what they are perceiving is precisely the bouquet of biochemistry and pheromonal compounds that the body produces during arousal.
Pheromones, though often reduced in popular culture to bottled promises sold at perfume counters, are a genuine phenomenon. Compounds like androstadienone and copulins are released in tiny quantities and can alter the scent profile of genital secretions. Although the debate continues over whether humans have a functioning vomeronasal organ like many animals, studies have shown that even if we do not detect pheromones consciously, we certainly respond to them. The “smell of sex” that she describes is not just poetic flair, it is literally the chemical signal of sexual readiness and arousal.
Post-menopause adds an extra layer of intrigue. With the fall of systemic oestrogen, the vaginal pH tends to rise, shifting from acidic to more neutral, and the microbiome often shifts as well, usually away from lactobacilli dominance. This can alter baseline odour. Yet when arousal occurs, the local chemistry changes again. Blood flow, glandular activity and adrenal hormone surges combine to create a momentary chemical bloom. It is like a perfume that appears only under certain lighting conditions, a scent that was always there in potential, activated by the spark of attraction.
The emotional element cannot be separated from the biological. Attraction is not just mechanical, it is also psychological, and the perception of one’s own scent is heightened by the excitement of intimacy. This is why a woman may suddenly notice a musky, undeniably sexual fragrance when with someone she finds especially arousing, even though her baseline scent in daily life seems far more neutral. In other words, her brain is tuned into the frequency of desire and her nose is picking up the station loud and clear.
From a clinical perspective, this phenomenon is benign and entirely natural. It is distinct from the odours associated with infection, which are usually described as fishy, foul, or yeasty (and if you have any of those or suspect you may, please speak to your GP or pharmacist). The “smell of sex” is musky, earthy, warm and distinctly alive. For those who like their metaphors, it is indeed something akin to the perfume of a film character, a chemistry of allure that lingers in memory long after the moment has passed.
If we consider this in evolutionary terms, it makes perfect sense. Sexual scent is a signal of intimacy and readiness. That it persists after menopause is testimony to the fact that female sexuality is not defined by reproduction alone. The human body has reasons to preserve pleasure, bonding and desire that go far beyond fertility. The scent she notices is not a ghost of fertility past, it is a declaration of vitality present and her response to someone who is making her smile.
And so when a woman says she smells of hormones or that she smells of sex, she is quite right. She is noticing the physiological truth of her body in real time. It is her glands, her blood flow, her adrenal hormones, her microbiome, and her arousal, all producing a fragrance that has been recognised for millennia as one of the most human signatures of intimacy.
It isn’t imagination, it’s real. It’s chemistry mixed with biology. It is quite literally: the scent of a woman.
Further reading
Brotman RM, Shardell MD, Gajer P, et al. Association between the vaginal microbiota, menopause status, and signs of vulvovaginal atrophy. Menopause. 2018.
Doty RL. The Great Pheromone Myth. Johns Hopkins University Press, 2010.
Fox CA, Ismail AAA. Plasma testosterone concentrations in adult men and women. Nature. 1974.
Grammer K, Fink B, Neave N. Human pheromones and sexual attraction. Eur J Obstet Gynecol Reprod Biol. 2005.
Miller SL, Maner JK. Scent of a woman: Men’s testosterone responses to olfactory ovulation cues. Psychol Sci. 2010.
Pavlovic M, Jovanovic AM, Miljkovic S, Vukomanovic P. Vulvovaginal atrophy after menopause. Med Pharm Rep. 2019.
Stern K, McClintock MK. Regulation of ovulation by human pheromones. Nature. 1998.
Wyatt TD. Pheromones and Animal Behaviour: Communication by Smell and Taste. Cambridge University Press, 2014.
