When I was in middle school, I had the hardest time finding a deodorant that would keep me smelling fresh. Mom’s deodorant didn’t cut it for me, and it wasn’t until I saw an advertisement for a deodorant that was “So effective you could even skip a day™” that I finally found my brand. Over the years, my Lady Mitchum has served me well, though the products have changed from normal solid antiperspirant to a roll-on to a “hydrosolid” to a gel.
Recently, I got razorburn on my left armpit. Around the same time, I switched from my normal gel back to the “hydrosolid” that was on clearance. The hydrosolid ended up giving me a nasty rash where the razorburn was, so I had to forego the use of deodorant on my left pit for a few days, so it could heal. Eww.
Actually, it could have been worse. I put baby powder on my freshly-washed pit every morning, and it was fine until well after I got home in the evening. And, strangely enough, I enjoyed the feeling of letting my armpit breathe. That, plus a well-timed article in a health magazine, made me wonder if maybe I shouldn’t switch to a more natural deodorant.
Early this week, I received a shipment from Kiss My Face: natural deodorant, with no aluminum salts to clog the pores and possibly cause a host of medical problems. I’ve been using it all week, and it seems to work OK. Honestly, I’m not positive how much more effective this stuff is than the baby powder method, but it does smell nice. Like lavender. (I haven’t tried the patchouli yet, but it smells pretty strong. I’m gonna smell like a hippie.)
Right now, at almost midnight, my deodorant has long since worn off. That’s OK, though. I don’t mind the smell of me as much as I once did, especially since I’m all by my lonesome. I might reapply in the evenings if Aaron were here to smell my naturalness. 🙂
Again, as I said once before, mentioning that one has BO is probably not the best thing to do on one’s blog. But I’m feeling liberated from the evils of aluminum, and wanted to share. And the point of the natural deodorant is not to have BO in social situations, which I don’t.
It really does make you think about what our deodorant-deprived ancestors smelled like on a daily basis, or about people in other cultures or other countries — like the Mennonite I shared a Greyhound bus seat with, once upon a time. I don’t smell *that* strong, but it does make you wonder. Doesn’t it?