A blooming plant that reeks of gym socks and rotting garbage has thousands lining up for a whiff

People view an endangered plant known as the "corpse flower" for its putrid stink, which is about to bloom at the Royal Botanical Gardens in Sydney, Australia, Thursday, Jan. 23, 2025. (AP Photo/Rick Rycroft)

SYDNEY, Australia — The rare unfurling of an endangered plant that emits the smell of decaying flesh drew hundreds of devoted fans to a greenhouse in Sydney on Thursday where they joined three-hour lines to experience a momentous bloom -– and a fragrance evoking gym socks and rotting garbage.

Tall, pointed and smelly, the corpse flower is scientifically known as amorphophallus titanum — or bunga bangkai in Indonesia, where the plants are found in the Sumatran rainforest.

But to fans of this specimen, she’s Putricia -- a portmanteau of “putrid” and “Patricia” eagerly adopted by her followers who, naturally, call themselves Putricians. For a week, she has graced a stately and gothic display in front of a purple curtain and wreathed in mist from a humidifier at the Royal Sydney Botanic Garden.

Her rise to fame has been rapid, with up to 20,000 admirers filing past for a moment in her increasingly pungent presence. No corpse flower has bloomed at the garden for 15 years.

A slow bloomer

There are thought to be only 300 of the plants in the wild and fewer than 1,000 including those in cultivation. The corpse flower only blooms every seven-10 years in its natural habitat.

“The fact that they open very rarely, so they flower rarely, is obviously something that puts them at a little bit of a disadvantage in the wild,” said garden spokesperson Sophie Daniel, who designed Putricia’s kooky and funereal display. “When they open, they have to hope that another flower is open nearby, because they can’t self-pollinate.”

After seven years at the garden, Putricia’s flower was spotted in December when she was just 25 centimetres (10 inches) high. By Thursday, she was 1.6 metres (five feet three inches) tall.

During the day, her flower spike slowly opened like a pleated skirt around a majestic central tuber, the yellow-green outer curling to reveal a burgundy center.

Putricia-mania builds

As excitement grew in Sydney about the unfolding bloom, garden staff erected crowd barriers giving the Victorian greenhouse the air of a rock concert. Fans trod a red carpet to view Putricia from behind velvet ropes in a display inspired by Queen Victoria’s funeral, the Rocky Horror Picture Show and the oeuvre of the late director David Lynch.

Inside, fans took selfies and leaned in for a sniff — a more perilous prospect as Putricia’s odor developed. People inhaled the “slaughterhouse” stench and canceled their dinner plans, said Sydney Morning Herald science reporter Angus Dalton.

“I am sickened,” he added. “I am in awe.”

One young woman raised her hands and bowed as though in worship. On social media, garden staff performed a viral dance in front of the plant to Chappell Roan’s summer hit HOT TO GO!

It was difficult to say why the regal, mysterious and stinky flower had attracted such a following -– but perhaps the answer lay in the “reverence” viewers felt in the presence of “such an amazing living being,” Daniel said.

A swift rise to online fame

Along with her real-life visitors, Putricia’s online fandom has been rapid, global and deeply strange -– if much less smelly. A 24/7 live stream established by the botanic garden drew close to a million views in less than a week and prompted a shared language of memes and inside jokes.

Frequently deployed acronyms included WWTF, or we watch the flower, WDNRP -- we do not rush Putricia – and BBTB, or blessed be the bloom. “Putricia is a metaphor for my life,” wrote one poster, who did not elaborate.

Commenters on social media planned to hurry to the garden as the plant opened. In just 24 hours, Putricia’s bloom -– and her stench -– would be gone.

As she unfurled, the plant heated to 37 degrees Celsius (100 F) to better spread her scent, attracting flies and carrion beetles which burrowed inside and laid eggs. Then work began to hand-pollinate the plant in an effort to ensure the species' diversity and survival.

But first, thousands of Putricians attempted to get as close as they could to their hero of a week.

“We did have a few conversations early on about whether or not we should have vomit bags in the room,” said Daniel, adding that garden staff ultimately decided against it. “I haven’t heard of anyone actually being harmed.”

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Graham-McLay reported from Wellington, New Zealand.

Charlotte Graham-mclay And Rick Rycroft, The Associated Press