I’m just going to go ahead and warn everyone that I might regret this post tomorrow. I don’t *think* I will? But there’s always that moment where you go “What the hell? Did I write that?” after you’ve consumed three (or four) glasses of wine because your toddler decided to hopscotch on your body during bedtime in an 80 degree house.
I was a diehard Secret deodorant fan from the time I started actually needing to wear deodorant. (Meaning I’d surpassed the “Teen Stick” phase. This was somewhere around the time I had the Rorshach-esque accident.)
Before our little economic crisis, I’d stepped up my deodorant game to the top-of-the-line Secret Clinical deodorant. As it turns out, progesterone, while it will help you sustain a pregnancy, will also cause you to sweat like a wildebeest. And I? Have residual hot flashes nearly three years later from that lovely purple pill.
Secret Clinical also had the pleasant side effect of making my armpit hairs less hairy, but the label didn’t say it was supposed to do that so don’t take my word for it. I could totally have been imagining things. (But I wasn’t. Promise.)
But then I thought “Hey! We’re in a recession! I’m going to be an extreme couponer!” and I ditched brand loyalties for whatever would cost me less. And I only became an extreme couponer as the term applied to pasta, stuffing mix, instant mashed potatoes, and hand soap, because, as it turns out, those are really the only things I was good at getting for cheap or free.
I ditched 14 years’ worth of Secret deodorant for a clearance pack of whatever-it-was because I had a coupon and my armpits have suffered.
Because somewhere in the midst of that recession, I also suddenly stopped being able to drop $14 on a 4-pack of blades for my Venus-du-jour. I would say to Dan “Oh, I need to get razors.” Then I would stare at the displays at Target going “No WAY. I canNOT spend that much money on something I am using to shave with!” And I’d pick up whatever happened to be cheap but still a step or two above a good ol’ 2-blade orange Bic. (You know the one, right?) And I would want to cry in pain as I shaved.
Then I started to notice that my armpit hairs were harder to cut. And my armpits were irritated and constantly burning. I couldn’t get clean pits anymore.
The lack of great deodorant and razors in my life has caused me months of agony wherein my armpits make me want to cry when I shave or deodorize them. And I shave and deodorize them every day. (Because EW.)
Sidenote. I remember watching 1984 in my AP Lang class Senior year. People? There is a full-frontal boob shot in that movie. And we were in high school. Know why it was okay that we watched it? Because the same scene that houses the full-boob shot also houses a hairy, European female armpit. And we were too busy going “OMG!BARFSHAVEYOURPIT!OMG” to notice there were BOOBS on the television. True story.
Two? weeks ago, or a week and a half ago, I saw people getting notices that they had earned free Klout Perks for Secret Clinical Waterproof deodorant because Diana Nyad is about to attempt to swim (or has already swum) from Cuba to Florida without a shark cage at age 61 and I was all “PLEASEOHPLEASE Pick me! Pick! ME!” because my armpits needed some relief.
And because I’m awesome (or because I tweet a lot) I got in.
This is almost as good a perk as free wine, people. My four (which is not a year’s supply but I’ll take it) sticks/tubes/whatever arrived today and I used them right after my shower and then I walked around the house going “My GOD my armpits feel better!” And they do. Finally.
My armpits? Are on the way to happy again.
FTC: Klout Perks are something I earned in a way that I don’t entirely understand but which has something to do with the quality and frequency and reach of my online interactions. I cannot pay for my student loans in deodorant, however awesome that may be, and neither Klout nor Proctor and Gamble, owners of Secret, have asked me to blog about their products. I just drank some sauv blanc and got all loose at the fingers. You’re welcome.