Oh, how the other half bathes.
While the bathrooms of we normals include staples such as Dove soap, Right Guard deodorant and Crest toothpaste, the upper crust are getting clean with the help of algae, papaya extract and aloe vera. These chumps are using $8 floss.
Believing the rich were falling for essential snake oils, I put them to the test and spent an entire day slathered in pricey products. Perhaps by nightfall, I would transform into Christian Grey — or the Grey Poupon man.
The morning began with an insult from France: I brushed with a $21 tube of toothpaste. Lebon’s fresh mint is a French “organic” product that swaps fluoride for green tea. Bonjour, Les Cavities! The gross aftertaste, which lingers for hours, is reminiscent of Drakkar Noir. My molars feel no classier than before.
Maybe my savaged taste buds could be rescued by Cocofloss, $8 luxury string (a five-pack of commonplace Reach costs about $10) from Clean Market at 240 E. 54th St. The website describes its schmancy thread as “a loofa for your mouth.” Ew. The coconut flavor I tried smelled delicious, like a healthy piña colada. But once it got between the teeth, it was just, well, floss.
The best tasting of the dental why-giene products was Olas mouthwash, from Clean Market. It comes in a 6.7-ounce, wide glass bottle, which makes you feel like a curbside drunk when you take a swig. It also boasts a “Marine Bio-Active Complex,” so there’s some sea salt here, some algae there. But, once again, no fluoride or alcohol. The product claims to make your mouth “less friendly to harmful bacteria.” I prefer my harmful bacteria mercilessly vanquished, thank you very much. If Listerine is a nuke, $16 Olas is a party popper.
Onto the shower! My “home spa” consists of a $20 plastic rainfall shower head I purchased on Amazon. Why not boost the sophistication with $65 shampoo? The name Biologique Recherche Shampooing Traitant Vip 02 doesn’t exactly sing, and it smells like buttermilk. But the product has a nice lather, and your hair comes out looking silky. It’s recommended for “stressed and fragile” hair. Mine is boyish and unremarkable. Still, these locks feel a little softer than before.
Once dry, it’s time to deodorize. As a prolific sweater, my choice of antiperspirant is vital, and I spent years of trial and error to find the right one. Or, I should say, the Right Guard — Xtreme Defense 5 ($5.99). It turns my armpit into a Fort Knox of sweat and odor, and has an inoffensive scent.
It’s also chock-full of aluminum, but I simply don’t care. So, using Agent Nateur’s Holi (Man) No. 5 was risky. It smells pleasant and dudely — it pelted my co-workers with masculinity all day long. But the $21 product is as sticky as a roach trap. That’s probably because it’s made with beeswax and coconut oil. To its credit, I didn’t stink.
According to a June Mintel survey, 84 percent of men ages 18 to 44 use skin-care products. Count me among them. But Hampton Sun’s Age-Defying Mineral Crème SPF 50 is a-skin’ too much. At $52, it’s more than a buck per SPF. Still, it goes on smooth and isn’t greasy. As to whether I’m defying age, check back in 10 years.
There is just one household luxury I tried that I can wholeheartedly endorse — and you don’t rub it on your face. The Laundress Le Labo “Santal 33” laundry detergent ($45) makes your clothes and linens smell like a meditation candle. All day I was sniffing my sleeve. I got weird stares.
For the most part, however, I’m sticking to my plebeian drugstore favorites, and will let other people empty their wallets in order to feel smug. The biggest take-away from my day of bodily extravagance? Once you’re sitting on an unheated subway car for an hour, none of this matters.
