I’m the perfect sucker for natural deodorant, as I’m crunchy-curious. You won’t find me tossing away my synthetic acids, but I can get down with clean moisturizers and organic shampoos—so long as they work. What’s held me up in the past with natural deodorants, though, is that my sweat glands are perpetually on turbo. I walk around looking like the Coast Guard just pulled me out of the East River, and even in the winter, I get damp if my winter coat is too damn cozy. Forget sweater weather. It’s sweat weather for me, and it’s a year-round phenomenon.
The thing is, natural deodorants don’t really impress me. They’re old news compared to clay masks that change color and Biologique Recherche P50 dupes. I would need a natural deodorant to be able to mop my floors for me to give it a second look, or for Beyoncé to give it a whole-hearted endorsement for free. So when Myro, the newest natural deodorant on the market, hit the scene with a 16,000-person waitlist, I was intrigued. Like…why? You know y’all can get natural deodorants at upstate New York drugstores now, right?
And natural deodorants, as good and wholesome as they may be, are not antiperspirants. That was one of the first things Greg Laptevsky, the founder of Myro, told me. While a deodorant nixes odor, antiperspirants reduce sweating. And the only antiperspirant approved by the FDA is aluminum, he explains. (The rise of natural deodorants stemmed from the claim, since debunked by the American Cancer Society, that aluminum is linked to breast cancer.) Instead, barley powder in the deodorant absorbs moisture.
But I wasn’t trying this just for its sweat-reducing power. I was doing it because it’s also cute. Everything about it is cute, from the sculptural packaging to the soft colors—including millennial pink, which is what I use because I am drops voice to a whisper a millennial—to the five scents, which are floral and bright and so appealing that I couldn’t pick a favorite. Plus, they’re refillable—good for the environment and my budget—and small enough to keep in your bag for touch-ups. The brand’s hashtag, #bettervibesdaily, has 182 tags and counting. That doesn’t sound all that impressive until you remember that it’s a deodorant. People are Instagramming their deodorant.
Anyway, I popped a pod in the Chill Wave scent (a combination of cucumber, jasmine, and spearmint) into my pink case and swiped it on. My first thought was that it didn’t sting my underarms the way other natural deodorants I’ve tried have. The creamy texture also doesn’t transfer onto my clothing, which was an unexpected bonus.
On my hour-long walk, I started to sweat with abandon. I couldn’t really fault Myro for this one: They’re not selling themselves as an antiperspirant, anyway, and there’s likely not enough barley powder in all the world to handle my sweat glands. Once I take my coat off and air myself out, I do a sniff test, to the delight of everyone in the coffee shop. I no longer smell quite like Chill Wave, but it’s still floral and warm—and not anywhere like the funk I’d be experiencing without any deodorant at all.
Hot yoga takes it down within minutes, though I saw that coming. It’s wildly distracting to feel sweat streaming down my arms during pyramid pose. But it holds up surprisingly well when I go for a run in chilly weather. I don’t even sweat too much, thanks to the windchill, and when I get back, I smell mostly the fabric softener from my t-shirt and faint floral notes.
I’ve been using it for a few weeks now, and while I miss antiperspirant for the sake of my t-shirts, I’m impressed by how well Myro manages to hold back my signature stank. Despite the sweat, I never actually smell bad. And while I won’t pose with it on my Instagram, I’ll keep using it—and sub in the antiperspirant for hot yoga. It’s all about balance.