It has almost become a rite of passage for young middle school students, on a seemingly normal day, to board the school bus bright yellow with promise and smudged with the approaching uncertainty of adulthood, take a seat on worn blue leather, and be completely unaware of the life-changing moment they are about to experience, and then—

The rowdy boys at the back of the bus hoot and shout, a faint hissing noise can somehow be heard throughout the entire bus, and then the haunting smell permeates the air: someone just sprayed AXE Body Spray into the air conditioner.

This critical moment may appear to be a momentary nuisance. After all, eventually everybody gets used to the smell, the boys who sprayed it are satisfied with ruining everyone’s morning, and the bus driver gets to school safely, questioning his job yet again, but ultimately staying more faithful to his decision than young teenagers to wearing deodorant. This moment may seem to be a fleeting memory of annoyance that you in the future would scrunch your nose at, and then continue with your day.

But there is much more to this. The scent of AXE Body Spray is now blacklisted in the minds of those who experienced that event. With just one look at the black canister of Manliness™ later on, its smell assaults the nose without a single press on the nozzle. We begin to associate the entire brand with all the faults of middle school, yet it is somehow still the aroma of nostalgia. It becomes a symbol for all the uncertainty we went through in the transition from adolescence to adulthood, of dealing with the pains of growing, of becoming accustomed to different people and their different ideologies in each class, and of course, of learning which body spray to use. AXE represents the biggest phase of trial and error, of unrestricted pedagogy, in our lives.

Although wearing or using AXE has never been done in adequate moderation, it still demonstrates the unshakeable desire that we, as humans, are born with: to fit in. AXE Body Spray was launched in 1983 in France, and brought to the U.S. in 2002, where it became a staple in the households of teenage boys, who spread the legacy of AXE-wearing to others like them who saw the “cool kids” at the back of the bus spraying AXE into the air. Later on, they might join the plethora of people who hate AXE, safe in the throng of others who oppose the same thing they do. AXE has pervaded into American culture silently but unforgettably, just like it has into its surroundings with each spray. It may not lead to love at first sniff, but the AXE Effect stays with us for our entire lives.

In fact, part of its long-lasting impression has to do with its marketing. Classier scents tend to grow subtly seductive with time. This particular brand foregoes the niceties of being enticed by a perfume, getting to know it, leaning closer to catch its lingering remains after hours of conversing. As Jason Feifer says in his article about AXE*, “its pants come right off. Boom. In your face.” There is no intimacy of the heart; the scent embodies almost perfectly the notion of a one-night stand, of pure hormone-driven sex.

One might find themselves lingering in the perfume section of a store for a few minutes, searching for the perfect bottle. Everything from how it smells to the shape of the container to the producer factors in on the consumer’s decision. This is not so with AXE; the buyer is completely aware of the unforgettable contents of the nondescript container in their hands, buying it out of necessity, but without much thought.

AXE has a reputation for this: for being something dependable. Consumers know what they’re buying so intimately that there’s no need to linger near the AXE-stocked shelf searching for the perfect bottle with the most attractive scent, and the way it has pervaded into American society from adolescence to adulthood has ensured its long-lasting aroma won’t dissipate into the air as a forgotten memory anytime soon.