You'd be wrong. In fact, I draw a hard line when it comes to my laissez-faire attitude toward personal hygiene, and stinky armpits definitely crosses it. But I have a difficult time saying no to any story opportunities that come my way. So when my editor asked if I'd write about going deodorant-free for two weeks, I enthusiastically agreed—and then spent the entire night dreading the grossness I was about to endure.

One way I convinced myself to get behind this undertaking: I considered the possible health benefits. There's certainly no shortage of quackish websites and crunchy green blogs warning that aluminum—the active ingredient in antiperspirant—causes breast cancer. But I wanted something more concrete.

Both the American Cancer Society and the National Cancer Institute say there's no evidence directly linking antiperspirant use to cancer. But when I dug a little deeper, the findings seemed less than straightforward. Estrogen exposure is a known risk factor for breast cancer, and research shows that aluminum exhibits estrogenic activity in human breast tissue. Even more unsettling: Research shows the number of breast cancers diagnosed in the upper, outer area of the breast (the part closest to the armpit) is on the rise.

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This research isn't proof that antiperspirant causes breast cancer. But some experts who've studied the chemicals wonder if aluminum—combined with all the other compounds found in antiperspirants and the many personal care products we all use—could add up to something harmful.

One of those experts is Philippa Darbre, Ph.D., an associate professor of oncology at the University of Reading in the UK. Darbre says, "Hundreds of environmental compounds that can mimic estrogen action have now been measured as present in the human breast." While big questions remain unanswered, Darbre doesn't rule out the idea that these complex chemical mixtures could cause or contribute to the development of breastcancer.

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If skipping the no-sweat stick meant I could lower my chemical load, I was willing to give it a try. And lucky for me, the first few days were easy. Temperatures in New Haven, Connecticut, where I live, hovered around 80 degrees, and the humidity was low. I didn't feel any soppier or stinkier, and nobody seemed to wrinkle their nose in disgust while they were around me.


Things got tougher once the spell of perfect weather ended. As the mercury approached 90 degrees and the air grew stickier, I started to sweat. A lot. The smell didn't seem awful to me, so I convinced myself that it didn't bother anyone around me, either. (If it did, they were too polite to say so.)

But the wet feeling under my arms felt gross. And even thought I think of myself as someone who doesn't obsess over what other people think, I was self-conscious about walking around with pit stains.

The worst moment came on a particularly humid night when my husband and I went out for dinner. I wore my favorite white silk tank top, and regretted it almost as soon as we began the 15-minute walk to the restaurant. Within five minutes, I found myself casually lifting my arms in an attempt to catch a cool, semi-drying breeze.

It didn't work. The next day that top went straight to the dry cleaner.

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Despite the scorching temps, I wasn't about to carry around extra shirts or shower three times a day. I was also entirely uninterested in home remedies like lemon juice (seems like it would sting?) or baking soda paste (way too messy). So I took to washing under my arms with a warm, soapy cloth whenever I felt sweaty. It was effective and, since I work from home, not too inconvenient. (If I worked in an office, I would've kept a stash of baby wipes in my bag at all times.)

On the last day of the experiment, it was 93 degrees out and oppressively humid. My husband and I were out for a long walk with our dog, and toward the end he said, "I think I can smell you." Even though we've been together for 12 years, it was still embarrassing, and I was glad the whole ordeal was almost over. The next morning I returned to my trusty antiperspirant with newfound appreciation.

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Of course, part of me feels silly for letting things like vanity or self-consciousness get in the way of being as healthy as I possibly can be. But I don't avoid ice cream just because eating too much of it will clog my arteries; I just indulge in