What do Chefs Know about Smelling Sweet?

​Riding my bike everywhere saves me money and helps me stay hungry. It also means I'm perpetually sweaty.

A few weeks ago, a woman in an elevator told me how much she wished she could trade in her car for a bike. I assured her she could do it. "Oh, no," she said quickly. "I'm in sales."

Apparently we summertime cyclists aren't exactly presentable. So I was tremendously excited when I received an e-mail from DeOdor Works, offering to send me a new chef-inspired device that could keep me smelling sweet.

Just in case you were wondering how to use a DeOdor.

​According to DeOdor's publicist, chefs have long been in the habit of running their skin against steel to eliminate B.O. This was news to me: All the chefs with whom I've worked -- even the sweatiest and smelliest, who used their vacation days for gastric bypass surgery - used bandannas to wipe away their sweat. I doubt there are many kitchens where a cook could nonchalantly rub up against a steel bar and not become a punchline.

When the patent-pending contraption arrived, it looked exactly like a beefed-up ladies' razor made of stainless steel. According to the absolutely obscene illustrated instructions, which told me where I could put the DeOdor, I was supposed to use the thing while showering.

Since I was planning to spend today on my bike, I used the DeOdor under my arms this morning. The publicist had told me even the DeOdor couldn't stem my sweat: It was designed to eliminate the nasty bacteria that water can't remove.

She was right on that count. At my first stop, a cashier looked at me quizzically: "Have you been swimming?," he asked.

As for my scent, I think I smell the same way I usually do. The trouble with testing a product like the DeOdor is it serves to make me even more socially unacceptable: Not only am I now drenched in sweat, I also keep smelling my armpits. And while I don't really want to ask any strangers to weigh in, I'm pretty sure I don't smell fresh as a bed sheet on a clothesline.

I wanted DeOdor to work, just as I hoped the $50 moon shoes I bought when I was 12 years old really would vault me over the garage, and the magnetic necklace my favorite ballplayer wore would make me a better tennis player. Scams all, it seems. If you're having good luck with the stainless steel solution, that's great. But if you're not already a convert, you might want to save up your money for a more effective solution. Like soap.