Posted by: Katherine Ashenburg - Author of The Dirt on Clean

While I worked on The Dirt on Clean, people began taking me aside and confessing. Sometimes the person didn’t use deodorant, just washed with soap and water; some people confided that they didn’t shower or bathe daily. Two writers told me separately that as the end of a project neared, superstitiously they stopped washing their hair and didn’t shampoo until it was finished. One woman reported that her husband of 20 years takes long showers three times a day: she would love, she said wistfully, to know what he “really” smells like, as opposed to deodorant soap.

Something similar happened while I was writing a book about mourning customs. Then, people would tell me privately about an observance that was important for them, even if it seemed superstitious or overly sentimental—how they wore their father’s old undershirts, or had long talks with their dead wife. As people confessed their washing eccentricities, I wondered if a failure to meet the standards of the Clean Police was as bizarre as full-blown mourning in the modern world.

Now that The Dirt on Clean has been published, I’m harvesting even more washing stories. At the end of a talk or interview, people will tell me about their Scottish aunt, who never got into a tub but washed herself “piecemeal” and always seemed perfectly clean. Or about their time in the south of France, when housewives used the kitchen’s pot of warm water to clean themselves quickly, in a few strategic places. Or about their decision to give up deodorant when there seemed to be a link between aluminum and Alzheimer’s disease (never proved), and they’ve never returned to the practice. As always, I’m interested, and amused at the surreptitious way people reveal their “deviations.” It shows how thoroughly we’ve been conditioned to the one-bath-or-shower-a-day-with-soap-and-deodorant model. But, as our ancestors knew, there’s more than one way to skin a cat—or get clean.