Once humble, bought for a quid and used with little pleasure, deodorant has done an about-face. Where it used to be a simple case of misting armpits with Lynx or spritzing with Sure, in recent times the world of deodorant has evolved to offer products that cost as much as fancy face serums and smell as good as fine scents.
Encapsulating deodorant’s shift from lowly to elevated is To My Ships, a brand launched last year in London. Apparently inspired by The Iliad, and yours for £35, it is inspired by “a desire for cleaner armpits, and an intention to quell olfactory overload”. If all that sounds highfalutin, this “cultured personal care offer” speaks for itself with a delicious scent and an ability to rival pong.
“We created a deodorant from the world of fine fragrance, elevating a dark and smelly function with a combination of the care applied to skincare formulation and a unique seductive green citrus scent,” says founder Daniel Bense, formerly at luxury cosmetics brand Aesop, as well as Sunspel, a company that takes the humble white T-shirt and turns it into an aspirational wardrobe hero.
Luxury brands that might once have turned their noses up at deodorants are championing them. Le Labo, which made buying a perfume feel like visiting a high-end apothecary, offers hints of violet and tonka bean in its £29 quest for armpit freshness. The beauty brand famous for its tomato candle, Malin+Goetz, proffers bergamot as part of its £22 BO-busting offering. Salt & Stone’s product comes with popular skincare ingredient hyaluronic acid, and Nécessaire offers a eucalyptus-scented gel. Cult skincare brands such as Drunk Elephant are getting in on the action, and Sol de Janeiro, the brand best known for its era-defining Bum Bum Cream, offers a sandalwood-scented deodorant.
So what is driving this makeover for the staple? Deodorant is, according to Claire McCormack, a senior editor at digital daily trade publication Beauty Independent, at the “convergence of a lot of hot consumer categories” – she namechecks body care and, current darling of the beauty industry, fragrance.
Sweating itself has also also had a rebrand, largely thanks to the wellness industry championing the idea that sweating is good for you. And underarm wellness in general has been catching on too – McCormack points to a groundswell of detox masks for your armpits as an example – again bringing skincare ideas to our underarms.
Aesthetics are a big factor in allowing these deodorants to become an ornament on bathroom shelves – and a product people post with pride on social media. Many of these new school deodorants look slick, with trendy typefaces. It is all part of what McCormack calls the “medicine cabinet makeover”.
Social media, according to Ed Currie, co-founder of AKT, which was launched by stage performers in 2020, has made it “easier for a new brand to enter the market”. During what he calls “the ‘Lynx effect’ years, there was only TV advertising, billboards/mags and shelf space in the supermarket/pharmacy”. Now consumers are seeing a diversity of deodorant brands via their phones.
But it goes beyond market access and optics – to chemistry. “The deodorant landscape has undergone a significant transformation,” says Krupa Koestline, a cosmetic chemist at KKT labs, which helps to formulate natural beauty products, “shifting from primarily traditional synthetic products to a more diverse range of ‘natural’ or ‘clean’ formulations.” Much of the shift, she believes, is driven by “consumer awareness of health and environmental concerns”. One such of the main concerns is the impact of aluminium, found in most traditional antiperspirant deodorants and scrutinised for its links to breast cancer. Koestline says that “while there is some evidence of aluminium accumulation in breast tissue, the available research thus far does not substantiate a clear cause-effect relationship with breast cancer.” She offers nuance to the broader claims of natural deodorants: “While they do offer some health benefits [like fewer harsh chemicals], their claims often outpace the scientific backing, and consumers should remain cautious of ‘greenwashing’ marketing.”
But even while doubts linger, McCormack believes that “when the efficacy gets there with natural products, people are like:‘OK, let’s do it’” – because why not, even if that means spending a few extra pounds.
Sustainability is a key factor, with many newer brands countering waste – more than 3.2bn single-use plastic deodorants a year are reportedly thrown out globally. Fussy, for instance, made plastic-free refills central to its offering when it went after investment on Dragons’ Den in 2022. Marketing is key. “If you look at AKT and Fussy, they have invested heavily into branding with very reputable agencies,” says Alex Colley, founder of luxury branding agency ikon. “With any luxury product, you can’t just price high and expect people to pay it. You have to be good at telling the story of the brand and understanding your point of difference in the market.”
Take, for example, the theatrical back story of AKT: having been tested under the bright lights of London’s West End, it is apparently now used by Beyoncé’s and Taylor Swift’s tour dancers. The difference with these brands he says, “is made in aligning to something people value in relation to their worldview. An overpriced Lynx just wouldn’t work.”
In one sense it is miraculous that the unglamorous armpit should be inspiring such attention and expense. In another it makes sense that a daily product should be made more pleasurable – plus supporters argue that such deodorants offer value in terms of the longer length of time it takes many to run out versus their cheaper counterparts. Seen in less agreeable lights, this armpit arms race could be a symptom of late-stage capitalism’s attempts to maximise expenditure on something most people consider an essential.
“Now that it’s chic,” McCormack says, “we’re going to see a lot more brands say: ‘Hey, let’s do a deodorant.’”