I was beginning the 7th grade and hit puberty, but still in the 'boys take a bath twice a week' phase. So between my pits and my feet, the smell of Limburger cheese occasionally wafted through my Catholic school classroom. My old school Irish nun ( a wrinkled, bitter bitch who later was killed when hit by a car, thankfully) used to ask "what is that smell?" to no one in particular. I was mortified at the thought of being singled out, but too stupid to remedy the situation. She bought Avon scented candles to freshen the air. It took crushing on a cute blond to discover speed stick and regular bathing!