Cashmere Mist Deodorant: A Ridiculous and Needless Semi-review and Personal History
When I first began to entertain notions of creating a blog, as many as one hundred and forty four hours before today, its Birth, I thought that I might devote the entire project to the examination and review of the many, many deodorants which I have had the privilege of testing throughout the course of my pubescent and post-pubescent life. Now, for reasons of vanity, I chose to make the topics of this blog rather broader, lest I become known as Sweaty Deodorant Girl Head (or something equally embarrassing - say Pitt Sniffer or White Marks), but I will forever be on the search for what the beauty world calls the Holy Grail (of deodorant).
I do not remember the first deodorant that I ever used, only that my mom gave it to me, it had a yellow lid, and it caused me deep feelings of mortification which would follow me all the way out of my teens regarding any sort of "adult" topic. I believe that she bought it at the natural grocery store, and I believe it was largely ineffective (and indeed, I seldom remembered to use it).
Since then, O My Darling Internet Denizens, I have experimented with upwards of 20 deodorants, of all brands, scents, and prices, before landing on the famed Kult Klassic Donna Karen's Cashmere Mist Deodorant, which is well received in almost all corners of the web, even the notoriously hard to please amalgam of reviews which is Makeupalley.
Before I purchased the exorbitant deodorant (which costs 24 hard earned clams), I had gone to the ends of the crunchy world and back, and had first embraced - and then abandoned - the practice of smearing a homemade baking soda-cornstarch-coconut oil upon my sweat ducts each morning. I threw cancer to the wind and began looking for the Deodorant Queen. And I found it. Oh la la!
Dear Cashmere Mist turned out to be wonderfully effective (at smelling great and draining my bank account), although it did not completely stop my profuse sweating (which I believe is the result of an overly nervous constitution). But it made me smell delicious and warm - not of any one scent in particular, but just sort of powdery and lovely. It smelled like how Anne from Valley of the Dolls probably smelled when she was in her mid 40s, which is to say subtle, mysterious, soft, and sleepy from taking too many red pills.
Oh my. I am becoming terribly embarrassed after having to type the word "Cashmere Mist" over and over again. No, no, I am fine. I will plunge my head into a bucket of Dr. Bronner's Tea Tree soap and carry on.
I got compliments on smelling nice for the first time in my life (Ye Gods! I do not like to think about the dark days before that but can only pray they marked the absence of a delicious smell and not the presence of an unpleasant one!), which made me feel womanly as I never had before. And best of all, I did not suddenly seem to develop an immunity towards the deodorizing properties of the product even after multiple purchases and pathologically excessive usage!
But all good things must come to an end, mustn't they? After a solid year's use of Cashmere Mist, the deodorant has begun to work just a little bit less, and I have found my fickle nose lusting after other scents, other formulations. I am not a loyal sweetheart when it comes to beauty. The final straw was when at work one day my coworker asked me what scent I always seemed to smell of. She did not use positive modifiers in the exchange, and I went home wondering if I disturbed others with my scented DeodorAura.
And so, I have begun to stray from my dear Cashmere Mist.
If you have $24.00 to burn, however, please do try it, especially if you have struggled with the efficacy of many other deodorants. I doubt you will be disappointed by it - that is, unless you don't care to smell like a yummy, soft woman-baby; unless the scent makes you retch; unless you need to spend your $24.00 on six or seven delicious banh mi sandwiches; unless you have an extreme allergy to its ingredients and your armpits are hit with a burning crimson, bumpy rash which makes it impossible for you to wear clothes for 8 days and thus you are fired from your job for showing up topless.
Well, you know - everything is relative and taste is an illusion blah blah blah. xoxo.
I do not remember the first deodorant that I ever used, only that my mom gave it to me, it had a yellow lid, and it caused me deep feelings of mortification which would follow me all the way out of my teens regarding any sort of "adult" topic. I believe that she bought it at the natural grocery store, and I believe it was largely ineffective (and indeed, I seldom remembered to use it).
Before I purchased the exorbitant deodorant (which costs 24 hard earned clams), I had gone to the ends of the crunchy world and back, and had first embraced - and then abandoned - the practice of smearing a homemade baking soda-cornstarch-coconut oil upon my sweat ducts each morning. I threw cancer to the wind and began looking for the Deodorant Queen. And I found it. Oh la la!
Dear Cashmere Mist turned out to be wonderfully effective (at smelling great and draining my bank account), although it did not completely stop my profuse sweating (which I believe is the result of an overly nervous constitution). But it made me smell delicious and warm - not of any one scent in particular, but just sort of powdery and lovely. It smelled like how Anne from Valley of the Dolls probably smelled when she was in her mid 40s, which is to say subtle, mysterious, soft, and sleepy from taking too many red pills.
Oh my. I am becoming terribly embarrassed after having to type the word "Cashmere Mist" over and over again. No, no, I am fine. I will plunge my head into a bucket of Dr. Bronner's Tea Tree soap and carry on.
I got compliments on smelling nice for the first time in my life (Ye Gods! I do not like to think about the dark days before that but can only pray they marked the absence of a delicious smell and not the presence of an unpleasant one!), which made me feel womanly as I never had before. And best of all, I did not suddenly seem to develop an immunity towards the deodorizing properties of the product even after multiple purchases and pathologically excessive usage!
But all good things must come to an end, mustn't they? After a solid year's use of Cashmere Mist, the deodorant has begun to work just a little bit less, and I have found my fickle nose lusting after other scents, other formulations. I am not a loyal sweetheart when it comes to beauty. The final straw was when at work one day my coworker asked me what scent I always seemed to smell of. She did not use positive modifiers in the exchange, and I went home wondering if I disturbed others with my scented DeodorAura.
And so, I have begun to stray from my dear Cashmere Mist.
If you have $24.00 to burn, however, please do try it, especially if you have struggled with the efficacy of many other deodorants. I doubt you will be disappointed by it - that is, unless you don't care to smell like a yummy, soft woman-baby; unless the scent makes you retch; unless you need to spend your $24.00 on six or seven delicious banh mi sandwiches; unless you have an extreme allergy to its ingredients and your armpits are hit with a burning crimson, bumpy rash which makes it impossible for you to wear clothes for 8 days and thus you are fired from your job for showing up topless.
Well, you know - everything is relative and taste is an illusion blah blah blah. xoxo.
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